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“Good night, boys,” she said under her breath, disappearing into her room. The best she could hope for was that they were only going to be visiting Paris for a few days and then they would be on their way. She needed some rest, and she was pretty sure that the pair of them would keep her from getting any sleep at all. They both seemed like they were more trouble than she had time for, even if they were the hottest guys she had seen in a damn long time.
* * *
Shelby got up early the next morning and got dressed, eager to do some sightseeing. It wasn’t often that’s she got a day off and she planned on taking full advantage of her free day. She showered and pulled on her favorite jeans and sweater, opting to pull her hair back in a sleek ponytail rather than fuss too much with it and waste time.
She grabbed her purse and her cell phone and headed out the door, making sure that it shut and locked behind her. She loved that she got her own room in the hotel. It was on the top floor and the views of Paris from her window were incredible. Plus, renting a room or even an apartment in the city would be nearly impossible for her limited budget.
Shelby took the elevator down to the lobby and was just about out of the hotel’s front door when her manager stopped her. “Hello Claude,” she said.
“Hello Shelby,” he said. His English was pretty good, but there was still a small language barrier that she was trying to overcome. “May I speak with you?” he asked.
She wanted to tell him no—that she had a special day planned and that she just wanted to get on with it, but he was her boss, and she needed this job. “Sure,” she said. “What’s up?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll never get used to your American expressions,” he said. “I need you to work today. Lou called in sick and we’re fully booked. Can you switch your day off until tomorrow?”
She could—Shelby had nothing planned, just a spontaneous trip into the city to explore. She planned on going where the wind blew her and just being in the moment. It wasn’t as if she had tickets to a show or museum, but she was still looking forward to a full day off—away from the hotel.
“I guess I can put my plans off until tomorrow,” she agreed.
He smiled at her and nodded. “Very well,” he said. “I appreciate you doing this for me. Better get to work—lots of guest rooms to clean today.”
Claude turned to walk back to his office, and she grabbed his arm to stop him. He turned and looked at where her hand rested and then back up at her. “Speaking of you appreciating me helping you out, have you given any more thought to my request to become the hotel’s concierge?” she asked. Shelby had only asked him that question a few hundred times in the short months that she had been in Paris.
“Why, of course, I have,” he said. Claude was lying. She could see it in his eyes, but there would be no calling him on his bullshit. If she did, she’d be out one shitty job and living on the streets. She told herself that she just had to keep being patient, but her patience was wearing thin while waiting for him to change his mind about giving her the job.
“But I don’t know that you’re a good fit for the position,” he said. Was he honestly telling her that she was a better fit for the maid position? What an ass.
“I make a better maid I guess,” she sassed. Luckily for her, Claude didn’t seem to be able to pick up American sarcasm either.
“I need maids right now, Shelby,” he said. “Although we don’t have a concierge, I’m getting by without one. I’m able to handle the demand myself.” She wanted to laugh but decided against it. Sure, he’d happily handle the concierge duties, talking to people and helping them make dinner reservations or find a store in town. But there was no way in hell Claude would be caught cleaning a toilet or changing the sheets. That would involve him getting his pretty hands dirty and he didn’t seem like the type of guy to do that.
“Understood,” she lied. She didn’t understand any of her being stuck in a dead-end job, and that had nothing to do with the language barrier. “Guess I better get changed. I’ll be on the floor in fifteen minutes, boss,” she said.
“Thank you, Shelby,” he said. She didn’t bother to turn back to see him watching her get on the elevator. Shelby knew that he was—and he was probably gloating because he had gotten his way. Claude had won, and she hated herself for letting that happen. One day, she’d be around to see him lose. She just hoped that day came sooner than later because spending her life cleaning toilets wasn’t her idea of a life at all.
