She followed his attention and flushed crimson, yanking the zip up almost to her neck. He could see her processing how her words could have been taken as an innuendo, her color deepening even further.
She crossed her arms over her chest in a uselessly protective gesture. “Charming. Either you have no sense of self-preservation or you’re trying to force me to fire you. Which is it?”
He cleared his throat and forced an expression of seriousness back onto his face. “The former, I think. Mrs. Stewart—Serena—I’m not trying to be argumentative, and I’m not trying to make your life difficult. But I’ve run this hotel fairly successfully for the past nine months with no help and too little staff. What exactly do you think I’m doing wrong?”
“I already told you, you’re not doing anything wrong.” Her ire seemed to dampen a degree. “Let’s put aside the fact that I’m an owner and have every right to be here. By your own admission, you’re overworked. If this hotel is going to be the success I know it can be, you need my help.”
She looked sincere. And perhaps he had been overly defensive since her arrival. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
He turned away, pulled open a file drawer, and yanked out the folder that contained the reports, holding it out. “Take a look. I think you’ll find everything is in order.”
She slowly took the file. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” It nearly killed him to say the words. “Before you go, I do have a question. What exactly did you say to the guests while you were here yesterday?”
“I just gave them some ideas about what to do on Skye. Nothing special. Why?”
“A couple of them asked for you this morning. The Avilas were particularly appreciative of your stargazing tips.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “I’m glad it cleared up last night for a bit before the rain came in. You can’t come to Skye this time of year and not appreciate our night skies. It’s practically sacrilege.”
“Indeed it is,” he said slowly.
She held up the folder like a parting salute. “I’ll get back to you about this.”
“Fair enough.” He watched her swivel on her heel and disappear out the door, not entirely sure what had just happened.
CHAPTER SIX
MALCOLM BLAKE KNEW what he was doing. At least she could cross that concern off her list.
Serena flipped through the last page of the report and stacked it neatly in the file folder on Muriel’s dining room table. The hotel was doing well. They were within range of the revenue goals and occupancy rates Jamie and Andrea had laid out in the business plan, and customer satisfaction was high, judging from both online reviews and the comment cards guests left upon checkout. Malcolm was managing things exactly as he ought.
On the other hand, their high spring occupancy was due to an unexpected article in a London-based travel magazine. It was a huge break, but one they couldn’t count on to be repeated. That meant Serena had to come up with creative publicity ideas to keep pulling in new customers while they recovered the repeat guests they’d lost during the renovation closures.
Serena opened the next report and scanned the payroll statement. They were indeed understaffed. She ran her finger across the row that contained Malcolm’s information and sighed at the figure there. Not only would she not be firing him, but she might actually have to give him a raise. Not right away, of course—doing it now would only reinforce his arrogance at a time when she needed him to act like a team player. They might have agreed to a cease-fire, but the whole situation involved far more tension than she liked, especially considering the way he’d drawn attention to her wardrobe malfunction to gain the upper hand.
Heat rose to her face at the recollection. She shoved the file folder back into her satchel and reached for a notepad and pen instead. Several minutes later, a cup of tea appeared just beyond her right hand.
Muriel slid into the seat beside her, mild curiosity playing over her face. “What are you working on?”
“Some ideas for the hotel, though I doubt Malcolm will be pleased with me adding to his responsibilities.”
“Malcolm, hmm? When did you two get to be on a first-name basis?”
Serena blinked. She had always thought of him as Malcolm, though she’d been very careful to address him as Mr. Blake. “We’re not.”
“Does this mean you’ve decided that he’s not quite such a boor after all?”
Serena set her pen neatly on her notepad. “No, I still think he’s a boor. But he’s doing a good job.”
“Well, that’s a start. I hate to see you two at odds. He’s a good man. I think you probably have a bit in common.”
“What do you know of him anyway?”
“What has he told you?”
Serena shrugged and took a sip of her tea. “Absolutely nothing. It’s not like we’ve been spending all our time giggling and plaiting each other’s hair.”
Muriel narrowed her eyes. “Serena Marie.”
“Sorry.” Serena buried her smile. Muriel hated sarcasm, and the fact that Serena was thirty-nine years old did not exempt her from the rules of the house. “I don’t feel the need to get to know him on a personal level as long as he’s doing his job.”
“If you say so.” Muriel nudged the notepad beneath Serena’s hand. “What’s this about?”
Serena told her how she had made sightseeing suggestions to several guests, and they’d come back looking for her. “I’m thinking we should offer self-guided tours to hotel guests.”
“That’s an excellent idea. What sort of tours?”
She turned the notepad so Muriel could read her list. “Driving tours, walking tours, stargazing outings. I’m sure we could do more, but these are the ones that come to mind. We would offer routes, maps, perhaps boxed lunches. Most visitors to Skye want to be in nature but have a luxurious room and good food at the end of the day. We’ve got the second part, so it makes sense that we get involved in the first.”
Muriel pushed away from the table and stood, then squeezed Serena’s shoulder. “You’re a smart girl. This is a wonderful idea. You should talk to Malcolm, though. He’s the one who will have to keep these going after you’re gone.”
“I’ll talk to him once I have a full plan in place,” Serena said. “Right now it’s just a sketch.”
“Good. I’m going to sleep now.”
“Pray that Max stays asleep, or it won’t last long,” Serena said wryly.
“Ach, child, he’s fine. It won’t last forever; I promise. You may not think so now, but one of these days you’re going to look back on these years and wonder how they passed so quickly.”
“Right, because without a full night’s sleep, the entire decade felt like one long day,” Serena said. Muriel just chuckled and bid her good night, leaving her alone in the quiet dining room.
Muriel was right, though. Her children were growing up fast, and she was somehow missing it. She’d been thinking of this trip merely in terms of responsibilities and duties and, yes, reclaiming some part of herself that she’d lost along the way. But it could be more than that. This was her chance to give Em and Max a taste of an island childhood, even if it were just for a little while.
Serena stayed away from the hotel for the next couple of days, which Malcolm inexplicably regretted. He’d only meant to push some buttons, considering how determined she seemed to push his, not to scare her away completely. Since he had resented her presence from almost the moment she arrived at the hotel, he shouldn’t have been wishing his plan hadn’t worked so well.
He felt equally daft for his wash of relief when she popped her head into his office on Sunday afternoon. “May I speak with you?”
“Of course,” he said. “Please come in.”
She stepped inside and shut the door behind her, a leather satchel dangling from the crook of one elbow. Her sweater today lacked a zip, and he had to fight to keep a grin from bursting onto his lips as she seated herself in front of the desk.
/> “I have an idea.”
“Why do I suddenly feel a chill running down my spine?”
One corner of her mouth lifted into a wry smile. She removed a sheaf of papers from her bag and passed them across the desk. “You have only yourself to blame. You’re the one who got me thinking along these lines.”
He took the stack and flipped through it. It was a supplemental marketing plan, laid out like the one with which Andrea had tasked him when she hired him to manage the hotel. “Self-guided tours?”
“A value-added offering for our guests. It should cut down on your having to answer the same questions for each guest, and it gives us one more advantage over other area accommodations. We’ve already started to draw high-end travelers. This will appeal to the luxury-adventure set.”
She held her breath, and he realized that she was actually nervous about his answer. “I like the idea. But why are you asking me? You’re the owner. You can do whatever you want.”
“I’m not here all the time. You’re the one who has to make it work. I want to be certain you’re on board with the idea before I go any further.”
He continued flipping pages. There were walking tours, driving tours, even a stargazing outing. “So you really are interested in astronomy?”
“Hard to grow up on Skye without at least having some interest. And that’s one of the reasons holiday goers come here in the winter. It’s certainly not for the weather.”
“No, it certainly isn’t. If we advertised a ‘Winter with the Stars’ package, I bet we could get our off-season occupancy rates up even higher.” He looked up from the plan. “This is a great idea, Serena. Let’s do this.”
She looked surprised. “I’ve included some mock-ups of brochures in the back. I thought you might want to offer some input on the copy before they go to print.”
He flipped to the back, where indeed there were three full-color trifold brochures, professionally designed and laid out. “You did these?”
“I did.” A hint of pride hung in her voice, and she raised her chin as if daring him to say something critical about them.
“They’re perfect. Really impressive. I had no idea that you could do this.”
“That stands to reason, since you know absolutely nothing about me.”
The jab struck. Maybe he really had hurt her feelings by being so combative. But the conflict hadn’t been one-sided: she’d taken one look at him and assumed he was incapable of running a hotel. Not that he wanted to bring that up, especially now that they were finally having a civil conversation. “That’s true. I don’t suppose you happen to write as well?”
“Why?”
He leaned back in his chair. “We have Facebook and Instagram accounts set up, but there’s really nothing on them. We could use someone to take over the hotel’s social media. ”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Posts about Skye. Things to do, things to see, what makes the island unique. What makes the hotel unique. Really give the flavor of the guesthouse and the location. I can tie them into the website so new posts appear next to the booking form.”
“I like that idea. We could highlight local events, the bands that play at the bar.” Her voice gained excitement as she talked about it, her eyes sparkling. In that moment he realized just how pretty she was when she wasn’t giving him a hard time. Well, she was pretty even then, but now she was downright magnetic. His thoughts must have shown on his face, because her voice trailed off midsentence. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Sorry, was I? I was just thinking I’m glad you agree, because technical papers are the extent of my writing ability and I don’t think ‘great view’ is really going to cut it. So what do you think? Will you do it?”
Serena hesitated, then gave a single nod. “I’ll do it.” She paused, then added, “It’s a really good idea, Malcolm. We should have done it a long time ago.”
“Well, this—” he held up her papers—“is a great idea as well. So thank you.”
She didn’t seem to know what to do with his gratitude, so she rose and gestured to the marketing plan. “You can keep that. It’s a copy. I’m going to run the ideas past Jamie and Ian to make sure they’re okay with the changes. Andrea might have some ideas to contribute as well.”
“Perfect. I’ll let you know when I have the changes made to the website.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a faint smile, nodded, and then hightailed it out of his office as if she were on fire.
He stared at the door as it closed behind her, both unsettled and intrigued. The more contact he had with the new owner, the more he wondered if the high-handed, spoiled-princess persona had been simply an act. What would he find if he made the effort to dig a little deeper?
CHAPTER SEVEN
SERENA RETURNED TO HER AUNT’S HOUSE, feeling simultaneously pleased and confused. She should have been happy that Malcolm not only had accepted her ideas enthusiastically but had come up with an excellent one of his own. Already her mind whirled with topics. She might not consider herself a writer, but she knew Skye. She loved Skye. It would be easy to come up with a post every day on the things that made it so special to her.
And yet there had been a moment when they were talking, when Malcolm had looked at her—really looked at her—and she had felt a current of . . . something. Not that she should read too much into it, because he had been as open about his appreciation of her appearance as he had about his utter dislike of her personality. He could despise her but still find her attractive.
No, more disturbing was the fact that the little spark had gone both ways. Call it attraction or interest or chemistry, there was something about him that made her off-balance and breathless. Yes, objectively he had plenty going for him in the looks department—deep-brown eyes, full lips, and a strong jaw that prevented the first two from daring to look feminine. But she was far too sensible, her taste too refined, to be taken in by something as visceral as muscles or annoyingly scruffy facial hair.
Whatever it was, she needed to get a handle on it. She could fill a notebook with reasons why being attracted to Malcolm Blake was a terrible idea, and not just because he was an employee.
As soon as she set foot into Muriel’s house, her children rushed her.
“Mummy!” Max wrapped his arms around her legs as if she had been gone the entire day and not just half an hour. She lifted him, groaning from his weight, as Em threw her arms around her waist.
“What a greeting!” Serena planted a kiss on top of Em’s head, then a loud smack on Max’s cheek. “What have you been up to? You don’t have Auntie Muriel tied up in the kitchen, do you?”
“No, Mummy,” Max said with a giggle. “Come look.”
She lugged him into the kitchen, Em trailing behind, to where Muriel stood at the counter with a large bowl, mixing brightly colored pink dough. “What’s this? Biscuits?”
“Salt dough,” Muriel said. “Do you remember making this when you were a child?”
“Of course I do.” She’d always thought it was even better than clay, because the shapes could be baked like cookies. She plopped Max down on the counter and then leaned over to kiss her aunt’s cheek. “Great-aunties are the best, aren’t they?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Max said, his default answer. As Muriel turned away to grab two smaller glass bowls off the countertop, Max darted a hand in and pinched off a piece of dough, then shoved it into his mouth. He shuddered and immediately spit it onto the counter.
Serena laughed. “It’s not cookie dough, monkey. And I know for certain Auntie already told you that.”
“I did, and now you know why.” The look Muriel bestowed on Max was downright doting. She had helped raise Serena and Jamie, and now she filled the role of grandmother that Serena’s mother should have held. Marjorie was the kind of grandmother who sent gifts from afar and then wondered why the children didn’t run to her during their single yearly visit. Muriel, on the other hand, cut paper dolls on the kitchen table and
made salt dough out of baking supplies and food coloring.
“Will you play with us, Mum?” Em asked hopefully.
“Of course I will.” Serena helped Muriel divide the dough into four equal pieces while her aunt started mixing the ingredients for another batch.
“What do you think, you two? Blue or green?”
“Blue,” Max said at the same time Em said, “Green.”
“Turquoise it is,” Serena said.
Muriel went to the cupboard to get the food coloring, but as she opened the door, she swayed on her feet. Instantly Serena was at her side, grabbing her elbow. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Muriel said. “Just a little dizzy for a moment. Nothing to be concerned about.”
Serena frowned and looked closely at Muriel. Her aunt had dark shadows beneath her eyes, but Serena had attributed that to the fact Max had woken them in the middle of the night again. Was there something else going on? Muriel was as stubborn as her father had been, which was part of the reason his cancer hadn’t been discovered until it was too late to treat it. Serena wasn’t about to encourage that sort of behavior, especially since Muriel had been having odd symptoms on and off for the past year.
“Perhaps you should go to the surgery this week,” Serena said softly, outside the children’s hearing. “Just in case.”
Muriel fixed her with a stern look. “I’m fine, Serena, dear. Now mind your own business.”
Okay, then. Muriel wasn’t going to take any advice from her niece. Still, Serena made a mental note to check up on her more often and force her to see her physician if she seemed to be worsening.
“How did Malcolm take your suggestions?” Muriel asked.
Nicely played, Auntie. “Shockingly well. He also asked me to take over the hotel’s social media.”
“Sounds promising. So you two are getting along?”
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