She gave another weary sigh. “Let me go freshen up. I’ll come back, and you or Bertrand can help me get it figured out.”
Kensington cradled her face in his hands. “Take all the time you need.” He gave her a soft kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”
18
The hot water washed over Anabelle as she leaned against the wall of the shower. She wasn’t qualified to do this. She knew nothing about hiring or firing or sales. Not really. Technically, she’d been a salesperson for Rachel, but not really.
She needed something to do, but how could she do this? At least she’d had a good afternoon at the garden party.
Her head snapped up. Was that the answer? Mr. and Mrs. Lachapelle had moved to San Majoria when they retired, wanting to be closer to their grandchildren. In their former lives, they’d owned a successful shop in a tourist town somewhere in the United States. Surely they knew what they needed to about hiring employees.
Feeling a bit more at peace with her new assignment, Anabelle finished her shower and dressed. Once in Kensington’s office, Bertrand showed her to a conference room where she could start organizing.
“All of the information we have from the previous contractor is being sent over. They backed out of their contract. You will get paid for this, ma’am, because it’s required by law, but if I may, I have a recommendation.”
Paid? Really? “Of course.”
“Donate the money to charity, one of your choice.” He hesitated, as though unsure.
“Go on,” she encouraged. He had a point. She didn’t need the money. That was a new, and odd, thought for Anabelle.
“Perhaps an organization for missing children.”
That brought tears to her eyes. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. I also know a couple people I’d like to bring in to help, at least to consult, because I know nothing about any of this.”
Bertrand picked up a pen. “What are their names?”
“Millard and Frances Lachapelle. It’s not spelled quite like it sounds though.” She spelled it for him. Originally, she’d guessed it would end in an i and be Italian in origin. Instead, the single e made the long-e sound, and they believed it to be French for “the chapel.” “I met them today, and think they could be assets.”
“I’ll run a check on them as quickly as possible and get back to you.”
“Thank you.” With a pen and piece of paper, she began making a list of her questions, things she felt she’d need to know. When she finished, Anabelle took a deep breath and flipped to the news application on her browser. Her face popped up first in the local news section.
New Duchess Makes First Official Outing While Sister Still Missing
Anabelle didn’t want to read it, but she had to know. As she feared, they were critical of her attendance at the event while Gracie hadn’t been found. She didn’t care, though. She needed something to occupy her mind.
Less concerned with what the reporters thought, Anabelle scrolled to the comments. Some were critical, agreeing with the overall tone, but others came to her defense.
Sitting around when there’s nothing you can do is a great way to go crazy, one said. My sister was missing for a year. She ran away, but we didn’t know that until later. After a few days, there’s nothing more you can actually do, and you have to get on with your life or descend into madness. Everyone responds differently, though. I needed to get back out and live my life normally. My mother spent time volunteering with organizations who helped drug addicted teens. My father started drinking heavily. This kind of thing could be just what Duchess Anabelle needs to keep her sane.
That was exactly how Anabelle felt. The solitude, even with Kensington’s family around her, was too much.
Many of the other comments echoed those sentiments, enough that Anabelle felt she might not be making a fatal faux pas after all.
Bertrand came back in with a full-sized tablet. “Here’s what I have so far. There’s a list of interviews already conducted, along with their notes, but no one’s actually been hired yet.”
“We have three weeks, don’t we? And they hadn’t hired anyone?”
“Not officially. It’s possible they made some phone calls and verbally offered jobs to some of them, but we have no record of it. This is for the management who will help run the job fair this weekend and hire everyone else.”
“In that case, we call those already interviewed, tell them there’s been a change in management, and they need to come back in if they’re still interested. If nothing else, their reactions will tell us a lot about their character.”
Bertrand’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “Very good. That was my thought as well. Would you like to start making the calls or shall I?”
“First, we need to determine when and where the interviews will take place, otherwise we can’t schedule them.”
His smile widened. “I do believe the prince was right. You’re perfect for this. Let me make a quick phone call. I think I can get us a place.”
Anabelle started looking through the applications and notes. Something seemed a bit off about them, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Bertrand came back in to tell her there were offices at the gymnastics venue they could use indefinitely.
“Why don’t I start from the top of this list, and you start from the bottom then? We’ll meet in the middle.” The documents were shared across the devices, so they’d be able to see when a note about a new time was made and not duplicate calls.
She dialed the first number. When she confirmed she had the right person, a woman named Holly, on the line, she launched into the spiel she’d thought through. “My name is Anabelle, and I’m conducting interviews for the souvenir vendor positions at the Games. Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond our control, your interview needs to be redone. Could we schedule that for tomorrow?”
“Of course.” Holly sounded confused but not upset. “I was told I didn’t get the job, though.”
Odd. Her qualifications seemed excellent, as had the notes. “I can’t comment as to what you were told prior, but the entire process is starting over, and we’d like to complete it as quickly as possible to allow for training and such before the Games commence.” In actuality, some of the shops would open a week beforehand as guests began to arrive.
After another minute of pleasantries, Anabelle hung up and made a note.
Maybe she could do this after all.
“Who is with her?” Kensington rested his forearms on his desk.
“A couple she met at the event earlier today.” Bertrand had come back from the conference room where Anabelle was set up.
“And they passed a background check and are qualified to help her?”
“Yes to both questions.”
“So that whole situation is in good hands?”
“It seems so.”
There was something more the other man wasn’t telling him. “But?”
“Something about the whole thing seems off. We both made phone calls to those who had already been interviewed and noticed the same thing. Some of the best qualified candidates on paper had been told they wouldn’t be getting a job, while the opposite was also true.” Bertrand shook his head slightly. “I don’t get it. Neither does she. The duchess told me she thought it odd, but that she’s never really done anything like this before and wasn’t sure she really knew what to look for.”
Kensington leaned back in his seat. “Is there anything unusual about the company that backed out? Besides going back on this contract at the last minute?”
“Not that we’ve ever noticed, but we will be looking into it much more closely as soon as possible. We’ll be looking into a lot of things as soon as possible.”
“Use whatever resources you need without taking away from the search for Gracie. Something weird is going on.”
“Agreed.”
He flipped to the next folder. “Any word on the residence with the plumbing issue yet?”
“No. The contractor is out the
re now.”
“Any other issues that you know of?”
“Not at the moment.”
“All right. What about another assistant, either for me or Anabelle? We can’t split your time indefinitely.”
“Princess Esther’s assistant joined the duchess’s team a few minutes ago. The princess doesn’t need an assistant at the moment.”
That was news to Kensington. He’d have to ask his parents about it later. Maybe it had something to do with what his father discussed with Benjamin and Isaiah.
“So you’re back with me, then.”
“Yes, sir.” Bertrand gave him the beginnings of a smile. “Thank you.”
For allowing him to continue to work for Kensington while away from the Lowery House. It violated both the original agreement and the amended one, but Kensington didn’t want to bring someone else up to speed on everything. Bertrand was worth his weight in gold.
For several more hours they worked on the details, the minutia, that never seemed to end.
“How many days?”
“Twenty until the village opens.”
Kensington glanced at his watch and realized they’d worked straight through dinner. “I think it’s time to wrap up for the night. We’ll get back to work in the morning.”
“Yes, sir.” Bertrand closed his padfolio. “I’ll be here first thing.”
“Are you still living on San Mediano?” Kensington asked with a frown.
“I have clothes and toiletries here to stay when I need to, but yes. My wife and I live on San Mediano.”
“If you’d like, I’ll see you get temporary quarters big enough for both of you, at least until this is over.” And they found Gracie. Kensington had a feeling Anabelle wouldn’t leave Cabo Juan-Eduardo without the little girl.
Relief crossed Bertrand’s face. “That would be wonderful. If you don’t mind, I’ll call my wife. She may join me tonight, she may not, but she can bring everything needed to move here for a few weeks at least.”
Kensington picked up the phone. “I’ll make the call and see you in the morning.”
“Have a good evening, sir.” Bertrand left as Kensington made the arrangements.
As soon as he finished, Kensington went to the apartment he’d occupied since he turned eighteen and moved out of the monarch’s quarters a floor above. A few lights were on, but the apartment was too still for Anabelle to be there unless she was sleeping. A glance into their room showed she wasn’t there.
He called her cell phone only to get the canned I can’t talk right now text in return. As much as Kensington hated to bother Bertrand now that he was off for the night, he sent a text asking where they’d been working. Five minutes later, he found Anabelle along with three others in a conference room.
She held up a finger as she talked into the phone. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” After hanging up, she gave him the first genuine smile he’d seen from her in days, though it still wasn’t a big one. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
“Bertrand and I finished for the day a little while ago, but worked right through dinner. I thought I’d see if you’d eaten yet.”
“Not yet, but we’re almost done with these calls to set up interviews over the next couple of days.”
The other three people were also on the phone and finished up their calls about the same time. They all started to stand, but Kensington waved them off.
“Kensington, this is Mr. and Mrs. Lachapelle, and Brittany, who is actually Princess Esther’s assistant but is going to help us out through the Games at least.”
Kensington nodded at each of them. “Thank you for your assistance. I appreciate it, and I’m certain my wife does, too. Without your help, the souvenir stands would be unmanned and that simply won’t do.”
After a few minutes of chit chat, Brittany told them she’d finish the last few phone calls and that the four of them should go get dinner. Though he knew she hadn’t meant to imply they should eat together, as they walked out, Kensington invited Mr. and Mrs. Lachappelle to join them. After a moment’s hesitation, they agreed.
Kensington made a quick phone call then led them to a small dining area. A member of the staff hurriedly finished setting the table.
He bowed slightly. “Apologies, sir.”
“None necessary. I called less than five minutes ago.” He held a chair for Anabelle while Mr. Lachappelle held one for his wife. Once seated, he turned to them. “I know you had the opportunity to talk with Anabelle some earlier, but I’d love to know more about you.”
A waiter brought them drinks as the conversation began to flow.
19
When Anabelle walked into the bedroom, Kensington was already seated with his back to the headboard and covers pulled up around his waist. As she walked in, he put his book on the side table.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked as she sat down.
“Productive.” She squirted lotion into her hand and set the container back on her own table. “For the first time since we got here, I feel like I’m contributing something.” She hesitated as she rubbed the lotion in. “For a couple hours, it took my mind off Gracie.” A tear leaked out of her eye. “I can’t believe that I forgot about her, even for a little bit.”
Kensington reached for her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as he pulled her close. “Hey. You didn’t forget about her. You just did something else besides sit around and stew for a little while.”
Anabelle curled into him.
“You can’t just sit here. If you were able to be out searching or something, it might be different, but there’s really nothing for you to do in the search right now. Something else to focus on is good for you. Otherwise, you’ll worry yourself into an early grave.”
“If we don’t find Gracie soon, I’ll worry myself into an early grave anyway.”
“We’re going to find her.”
“I know.” She tried to sound convinced. Despite how she’d felt earlier in the day, Anabelle had a hard time holding onto that conviction.
As she turned her head against Kensington’s shoulder to let the tears fall again, he prayed over her. Prayed for peace. Prayed for Gracie. Prayed for Gracie’s safety and that their little girl was being well taken care of, despite the circumstances.
Should they instigate adoption proceedings? Would that help anything? She needed to remember to ask Kensington later, but instead Anabelle found herself drifting off, the long days and longer nights catching up with her.
The next day, she was driven, along with Brittany, to the gymnastics venue where they were going to hold the interviews. Anabelle and Mr. Lachapelle would conduct half of them together with Mrs. Lachapelle and Brittany doing the others.
Many of those Anabelle met with expressed their concern for Gracie. Some said they were praying for her, but not all. She chalked that up to differing levels of religious beliefs. A few didn’t say anything and seemed a bit off.
After the third such interview, Anabelle turned to Mr. Lachapelle. “He said he’d been verbally offered a job, though there’s nothing about it in the notes we’ve been given, right?”
“That’s right.” Mr. Lachapelle took a sip of his water. “Something I noticed. Those who say they were told they had jobs haven’t inquired about Gracie at all.”
Anabelle stood and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I noticed that, too. Is it weird? Or just a coincidence?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“I’m not sure I do either.” She glanced at her notes. “Our next two interviews are the same. We’ll see how those go.”
One of the secretaries who worked in the gymnastics venue had been loaned to them for the next couple of days. Anabelle buzzed for her to send the next interviewee in. She seemed surly and put out to be interviewing again. She mentioned Gracie, but there was something off, almost snide, in the remark.
By the time lunch rolled around, Anabelle was willing to admit it wasn’t her imagination. She called Bertrand and put
him on speaker phone.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Can I give you a list of names to run background checks on for me? Or you can give to someone else who can?” she asked as she reached for her sandwich.
“Of course. Can you tell me what you’re looking for specifically?” She could hear the keys of his computer clacking.
“Nothing we can put our finger on, but some of the people we’ve interviewed are off. They have some common factors that make me wonder if there’s something more going on, but I have no idea what.”
“Give me a minute, and I can get a conference call going. There’s a man looking into the management agency. He can do this at the same time.”
After a series of clicks and a phone ringing, another man answered. Bertrand explained what Anabelle needed. He told them what information she should send him. Bertrand asked to be CC’d on any of it. With a few keystrokes, Anabelle sent the files to both of them and asked to be kept informed.
Once she hung up, she scarfed down her sandwich in a very un-princess-like manner. Mr. Lachapelle just laughed.
“I can’t thank you enough for coming out of retirement to help me,” she told him as she popped the last bit in her mouth.
“Our pleasure, dear girl. This is temporary anyway. If it was a long-term gig, we might not have, but we can handle a month or so.” He stood and stretched his back as his wife and Brittany came in.
They compared notes to find a similar pattern, though none of the other interviewees mentioned Gracie. That didn’t surprise Anabelle since they likely didn’t know she was even around. The overall attitudes were similar, even without that factor.
“I’ll send an updated list in a few minutes.” Anabelle sipped some water. “Keep track this afternoon, and I’ll send another one later. We won’t get through everyone today, will we?”
“No,” Brittany answered. “It will take until tomorrow afternoon. We can go through everyone tomorrow evening and make phone calls then, or do it first thing the next morning.”
“Why don’t we see how we’re all feeling by tomorrow night? We may all be worn out and not quite ready to do that. You’re making notes, though right?” Suddenly Anabelle worried that she wasn’t making enough. “Some sort of rating system so you know which ones you think will be excellent and which ones would be okay if it comes down to it?” That’s what she’d been doing, but what if she was wrong?
Crowns & Courtships Compilation Volume 1 Page 39