by Parker, Ali
“I hear the manager is wonderful, actually. I want Blake on the ground to assess the situation. The property is due for a visit anyway. None of us have been there this year.”
If it meant getting out of Florida sooner than expected, I was in. “Sure, I can go check it out.”
“Better get going. The sooner you get there, the sooner you can start ruining someone else’s life.”
I stood, fishing my phone out of my pocket. Time to change my ticket. Danny was right about one thing, the faster I got out of here, the better.
Chapter 2
Aston
The lobby was quiet at this time of the morning. Slowly but surely, a small trickle of people were making their way from the bank of elevators to my left across the lobby to the breakfast area. I was proud to say our breakfast area was one of the best Palo Alto had to offer.
The hotel basically sat on the beach and while having bacon and eggs—or an egg white omelet for the more health conscious—clients could enjoy the magnificent view. The sparkling blue ocean lay to one side and great city views to the other.
I’d even had a hand in arranging the tables on the outside deck so everyone would have something pretty to look at while getting fueled up for the day ahead. I tried to make every guest feel special and welcomed, from the Silicon Valley business guys to the Stanford students needing some grease to cure their hangovers. Making sure their breakfast came with a view was only one way I tried to achieve my goal. When I got promoted to manager of this property, the California branch of the McAllen Hotel Group, I swore to myself it would be my personal mission to make sure every guest left happy. A tall order, but so far I thought I was doing okay.
Smiling, I greeted the few very early bird guests walking past my perch at the front desk and tidied up the bits and pieces of stationery littering the Caesar stone quartz countertop—left behind by the night shift.
“Do you ever go home?” Tiffany’s exasperated voice asked from the doorway behind me that led to the staff area in the back.
I turned to face my best friend. She was fiddling with her name tag, trying to place it in its rightful place above her heart while mussing her curly hair with her free hand. “I went home for a couple of hours, but there’s a high-end client coming in today. I wanted to make sure his room was ready on time.”
She rolled her vibrant green eyes and shook her head, making her fiery curls bounce. “I don’t understand why you go above and beyond for this company every damn day of the week.”
It wasn’t the first time we’d had this discussion. I gave her a pointed look and greeted an elderly couple celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary this week. “I do it because the guests deserve our best. Besides, it also happens to be our jobs.”
“Our jobs are to come in on time and do what we get paid to do. They don’t pay us to come in early to make sure every room is ready. That’s housekeeping’s job. It’s what Sheila and the girls get paid to do,” she said, smoothing out her navy blue skirt as she logged into the system for her shift as the front desk clerk.
“We’re all a team, Tiff.” I knew I sounded like I paid too much attention at our last staff retreat, but well—I had. More than that, I enjoyed my job and I worked hard because I didn’t want to be stuck in it for the rest of my life. The McAllen Property Group was huge. The kind of place a girl could do well for herself if she put some muscle into it.
“Sure, we’re a team working our butts off to make a billionaire even richer. Face it Aston, you’re nothing but another brick in the wall to the guys at the top. Another employee number they’ll never put a face to.”
In a company the size of McAllen, it was probably true. What was rare about our company though was that the CEO did actually care about his employees. Or at least he made an effort to fake it really well. “That billionaire you’re referring to is rich because he worked day and night to make it happen. You never know, it could be me next.”
“You think you’re going to become the next property billionaire by working in a hotel?” Tiffany propped a hand on her hip and arched a perfectly plucked brow. “Stuff like that doesn’t happen in real life. You should relax a little and come out with me tonight?”
“It does happen in real life. It happened for Mr. McAllen. You know his background, it’s a real rags to riches story. I respect him, he started out with nothing but look at where he is now. He has a hotel in almost every state and we’re expanding internationally. We’re more than employee numbers to him, but let’s say we really are just numbers, I still want him to know mine.”
“Think what you want, but they’re just going to get rid of us all one day. That’s how these big companies work.” She scooted back to hop onto her stool. “You never answered me about tonight.”
“I’m working tonight,” I told her. “The quarterly report came in early this morning. I want to read through it and see where we rank.”
“We’re one of the smaller hotels, so there is no way we’re anywhere near the top. Come out with me instead.” She flashed me a wide smile, twirling one of her curls between her fingers in a way that told me she was in the mood to cause trouble. My suspicions grew stronger when she batted her lashes next. “Please come out with me. We need to get your mind off work. I’m seriously worried about you. You’re my friend and you work way too hard. You’re only twenty-six, there’s plenty of time to work on world domination.”
“I don’t want to dominate the world.” I shook my head, but I was unable to hold back a smile. Tiffany and I were polar opposites. ‘Girls just want to have fun’ was her mantra and she spent every spare penny she had in pursuit of it. She was the fun to my serious, the Meredith to my Christina. But Christina and I knew when it was time to be serious. “I only want to dominate this job.”
Tiffany’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she tried to suppress a laugh. “Why don’t we find you a guy to dominate instead? You need to get laid, it’ll take your mind off of work.”
A loud crash at the revolving doors in the front of the lobby caught our attention. Both of our heads pivoted to the source of the noise. A group of guys wearing fraternity shirts came tumbling through the doors, shoving each other and laughing. Their sneakers squeaked on the polished marble floors.
One knocked into a standing vase and I cringed and waited for the crash when it hit the floor, but the doorman managed to grab it just before it toppled over. He got knocked on the head by a few of the flowers from the arrangement, but he’d saved us from having to salvage them all from the floor.
The frat guy didn’t acknowledge Fred at all. He just swept past the poor doorman and punched his buddy on the shoulder as they headed toward us. I sighed, a group of rowdy frat guys checking in always caused trouble, which was the last thing I was in the mood for, but clearly these guys wouldn’t care.
Tiffany, on the other hand, straightened up and checked her lip gloss in the reflection of the computer monitor as she nudged me with her elbow. “Perfect timing. Some might even call it divine intervention. What are the odds of them appearing right at this moment? Just think—one of them could be the guy who finally pops your cherry. The time has come, girl. Take your pick first, but personally I like the look of the blond one in the back.”
I scoffed. The blond one in the back looked as much like a stereotypical frat boy as the rest—floppy hair, preppy clothes and sunglasses indoors. “There will be no popping of my cherry by any one of these idiots. Even if I was behind your plan to get me laid, I would never give it up to any of these guys.”
“You don’t know, one of them could be Prince Charming,” she argued, a megawatt smile lighting her eyes when one of them winked at her. Not the blond in the back, but a taller, wider one with brownish curls. He sauntered over to the desk and slapped a black credit card down onto it.
“Three suites, sweetheart.” His voice was nasally and his eyes rimmed with red. He wasn’t totally unattractive, but he did nothing for me. Tiffany was insane if she thought I’d be getting it on with him
or anyone else in his motley crew of floppy hair and brand names.
“Welcome to the McAllen. Let me check on the availability of our suites for you. Could I have your id, please?” It was standard procedure to ask for identification with credit cards, but Frat Guy didn’t look too happy about it.
He rummaged around in his pockets and fished it out. “Here. We need those suites, honey, stat.”
Arrogant asshole. But he was a guest and that meant he, like everyone else, deserved my utmost best. “Of course, sir. We’ll have you in your rooms in no time.”
Tiffany accepted his identification and frowned. “I’m sorry, sir. Your initials don’t match those on the card.”
“Because it’s my dad’s card,” the guy drawled, rolling his eyes like Tiffany was daft for not knowing. Irritation buzzed around in my belly. This guy was a massive dick, who probably had a very small one judging by the way he was acting.
I might have no experience in the sex department, but I had it on good authority there was some truth to the theory that men who acted like this usually had something to make up for. Guys like him also validated my decision to focus on my career instead of dating. I wasn’t hanging onto my virginity for any reason other than I hadn’t yet found a guy I thought was worthy of giving it up to, and I didn’t have time to waste searching for one. Especially since most of the guys I met on the occasions I did go out were too much like this one.
Tiffany got the frat guys through the checking in process, flirting shamelessly as she did so. They were eating it up until she slid their room keys over. Lead Frat Guy shoved them back across the counter. “Junior suites? Are you kidding me? I want the real deal.”
Tiffany’s eyes slid to the side, seeking out mine. Stepping forward, I picked up the key cards and rounded the counter. “I’m afraid these are the only suites we have available on short notice. I’m Aston, the manager here. Let me show you to these rooms, they’re stunning. You’re going to love them.”
“We ain’t junior, sweetheart. We don’t want the junior suites.” God, this guy was such a dick. The junior suites were only that in name. They were bigger than my apartment and were super luxurious. The guy definitely had something to make up for if he was being such an asshole about the names of rooms he wasn’t even paying for.
“I assure you sir, the junior suites are some of the best we have.” There was also nothing junior about their price tags either. The guy’s dad was going to have a real hefty bill to foot by the end of their stay. Another reason why I had to treat them well, the way I would want to be treated. But that was something I did anyway. My mantra was to treat everyone the way I wanted to be treated.
“We’ll have some complimentary champagne sent up as soon as you’re settled. They might be called the junior suites, but they’re large enough to accommodate each one of you in your own rooms and the balconies are lovely.”
“Lovely.” The guy repeated sarcastically, shooting his buddies a look over his shoulder. I was pretty sure he rolled his eyes too, but I ignored it.
Just breathe, Aston. They’ll be out of your hair in five minutes. “Excellent, follow me please.”
It ended up taking fifteen minutes before I was back downstairs with Tiffany. As expected, the guys were dicks about their rooms but chose to stay after some more bowing and scraping on my part.
All they really wanted was their egos stroked. Pathetic. All because of the names of their rooms?
Tiffany grinned when I got back to the front desk. “The blonde was hot, wasn’t he? Did you get an invite back to their suites later?”
“I did. Multiple times. I turned them down, of course,” I said firmly. No way was I setting foot near those guys unless I absolutely had to.
Tiffany looked crestfallen. “Why? Sure, they’re complete asses but they also had some asses that were really tight. Come on girl, you’ll feel so much better once you get laid. All relaxed and happy.”
“I doubt if any of those guys know how to get the job done well enough to make any woman relaxed and happy,” I retorted. “They’re nothing but bad examples of what their daddy’s money can do, Tiff. I appreciate the sentiment, but there’s no way I’d ever go to bed with men like that. It’s a hard pass from me.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Fine, but tomorrow’s another day. I’ll find you a guy. This discussion is not over.”
It never would be. “I’ve got to get back to work, so let’s hit pause for now. We can label this talk as ‘to be continued’ and set it aside for now.”
“I’m holding you to that,” she called, as I pushed through the door to the staff area where my office was located. “Just you wait, Aston Brier. We’ll get you laid yet!”
Chapter 3
Blake
Just my luck, I missed the last flight to California yesterday while I was going over some numbers with Dad, so I was stuck spending the night in Florida after all. At least our property here made a mean pancake.
Tomorrow I would go back to healthy choices, but today I wanted my pancakes. I stretched out on the king-sized bed and reached for the phone to call room service before I’d even opened my eyes. A definite advantage to practically living in hotels was never having to worry about fixing your own breakfast.
Once my food was ordered, I rolled out of bed and rubbed my eyes as I headed to the bathroom. I was useless before a shower in the mornings.
This hotel property, one of the three we had in Florida, was the first hotel dad had owned. It was an older building than most of the rest, but it had been redone to fit in with the comfortable modernist feel of the chain as a whole. Dad’s vision was to create beautiful hotels with every luxury he could afford to put in them, while retaining a homey, comfortable environment.
What he wanted had been difficult to achieve in decorating the spaces, but he searched for an interior designer until he found someone who could and did make it happen. The room I favored in the Florida property was on the top floor and faced away from the ocean. It was one of the smaller rooms, but I was only one guy so it was more than big enough for me.
Blackout curtains hung in front of a wall of windows with a small lounge and dining area in front of them. I grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and downed it, tossing it in the trash as I turned on the shower.
By the time I was done brushing my teeth, steam was pouring out of the shower. I stepped into the hot water and hung my head forward to get the steady stream pounding onto my shoulders. I definitely needed a massage after my go-around with Danny yesterday, but I didn’t have time to get one now, so the shower was going to have to do.
I rolled my head from side to side, stretching my muscles as the water beat down on them. Dealing with Danny made me tense as shit. I tried everything to get an immediate flight out, but Dad intervened. He still needed to go over some stuff with me and Danny insisted on staying as well.
My brother was the public face of the company, and as the eldest son, he would be handed the keys to the kingdom someday. I didn’t want the keys, I only wanted to do what I had to do. Let him deal with the public, the marketing, and people in general.
It only pissed me off when he insisted on sticking his nose into my business on the pretense of needing to know what was going on company-wide. His staying with me and dad yesterday had nothing to do with needing to know what was going on. He was determined to promote his friend and insistent I screwed up the numbers, despite being shown the evidence that I hadn’t.
Fuck him. Our father was on board with the investigation into the New York manager. Danny could launch his internal promotional campaign. By the time it ran its course, Dustin would be long gone and whoever deserved the next promotion would get it. It was the least of my worries.
The water worked its magic on my tense muscles, but it wasn’t enough. I briefly considered jerking off to help me relax, but my pancakes would be delivered too soon. Reaching the point of no return only to have a waiter yell, ‘Room Service!” would ruin it for me.
>
As I stepped out of the shower, I heard a knock at my door. Room service, exactly as I thought. “Just a minute!”
My suit for the day was already out of its bag and hanging by itself on the rail in the closet. I pulled on my pants and was buttoning my shirt as I went to get the door. It could only be room service waiting on the other side, so I wasn’t too worried about shoes or my jacket.
My mouth watering for my breakfast, I yanked open the door as I fastened the last button on my cuff. To my surprise, it was my father standing on the other side of the door, not a waiter with my breakfast.
“Blake, I’m glad I caught you.”
He brushed past me into the room, not stopping until he reached the windows. With his back still facing me, he made a vague gesture at the view. “You know there are ocean front rooms available.”
“I prefer this,” I told him, walking over to the coffee station in the room. Dad didn’t love the instant stuff, but at least we carried a pretty decent instant brand in all our rooms. He was still facing the window when he started talking.
“I know you prefer flying under the radar, but getting a nice room isn’t a crime.” The glorious smell of coffee permeated my nostrils when I added water to the mugs. Hello caffeine my old friend.
I looked around the room while I stirred. “This is a nice room.”
“They are all nice, I suppose. I just can’t help feeling you might like it here more if you stayed in one of the penthouses.” When he finally turned around to face me, he seemed tired.
“It’s not the room, Dad. The room is fine. What’s really going on?” It took a lot to wear my dad down, but something was weighing on him.
“Wouldn’t you like to stay in one place for a while?” He paused, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’m worried about you, son. Always on the road, always traveling, never taking the time to stop. I wish you would consider just taking a break every once in a while.”