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“So why are you leaving in three months and where are you going?” I can’t explain the rising anger I feel on her behalf or why her sudden monotone voice and shrugs set me off even more.
From what I’ve seen, everything about her screams that she cares, from her animated voice and expressions…when she’s pissed at me or when she excitedly greets guests, so this blank, hollow expression she’s wearing now is all wrong.
“Why would I stay?” she asks.
“Do you really believe Albert can do the job you do around here?”
A laugh sputters out of her and dies as she studies me closer, her brows once again creasing in a scowl at me.
I miss it when she handed out her smiles to me like free candy. I didn’t realize what a gift that was.
“I love Albert and he does an amazing job, but he’ll never be able to do what I’ve done around here, no.” She shakes her head and leans back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.
It’s a struggle to focus on her eyes, but I don’t dare let myself check her out now.
“Why would you ask that? It won’t be Albert taking my place running the lodge…it’ll beyou.”
“Well, yes, ultimately, I will be calling the shots, but…” I pause, wondering if it’s possible that she doesn’t know. “You do know I’m only in-house for six months and then I’ll be going back to Boston and staying on top of things from there…right? That was the agreement.”
Her face goes through a transformation, shifting from placid to stormy in a matter of seconds. I just thought I’d seen her angry before…that was nothing. She lifts her hand to push her hair out of her eyes and it’s shaking.
When she finally speaks, her voice is deadly calm. “Please leave.”
“Excuse me?”
She stands up and points to the door. And then she leans over, one hand on the desk and the other on her chest.
I stand up and nearly put my hand on her shoulder but leave it hovering. “Scarlett, what’s going on—are you okay?”
“My heart is racing,” she whispers.
I don’t hesitate. I rush around the side of the desk and help her back into the chair. I open the window behind her and cool air wafts in.
“Breathe,” I tell her, crouching in front of her chair.
She takes a deep breath and then another. Her head falls back on the chair and she stares straight ahead, taking one more deep breath.
“Pftt.”She snorts.“In-house.”
Another dismissive sound. “Okay, Wingtip.”
She shakes her head, still not looking at me.
Another huge breath.
“I can’t even believe this. So…you’re telling me you’ve come in here acting like youcare about this placeand that itreally means so muchto you…” She goes into what I guess is supposed to sound like my voice, only much whinier and with a weird accent when she says phrases I said at the staff meeting.
“And you’re not even sticking around?” She laughs, but it sounds like she’s closer to crying. “I can’t even begin to list all the—” Her voice fades and she shakes her head again.
She’s quiet, staring into space and then shivering slightly. I stand up and close the window and then see if she has anything else to say. When she doesn’t, I take a deep breath myself.
“One of the reasons I’ve insisted on meeting everyone and not just for general introductions, but to keep ongoing check-ins, is because I want to personally get to know every employee so well while I’m here that when I have to be remote and should problems arise, I’ll know who I’m dealing with and how we can best handle the situation.”
Still nothing from her.
“I realize it may not be ideal, but many resort owners, in fact, I’d saymost, have a manager who essentially runs the place while the owner comes in and out. I assure you, I’ll still be very hands-on when I’m not here.”
I take a ragged breath like I’m the one who was just struggling for air.
