“I need someone I can rely on. Someone who won’t let me down. And you fit that bill, don’t you?”
Skye smiled at how Margo posed the question. It was so hard to win an argument with her.
“One of your clients? Doesn’t that mean they’ll be super sophisticated?”
Margo ran an agency that provided specialist staff to big businesses around town.
“As sophisticated as they come. This one is Cace Arrington. He’s the leisure tycoon, who took over his family’s business. They own hotels and resorts all over the world. Have you heard of him?”
Skye shook her head. She couldn’t say she followed the lives of high-flying executives.
“I don’t speak their language, Margo,” Skye protested. To Skye, it seemed like the conversations of the wealthy always revolved around wines and investments and other things she knew little about.
“You speak to people, Skye. And that’s what you’ll need to do well on this job. I’ll send a cab to pick you up next week.”
*****
Arrington Woodlands was a sprawling, luxury golf resort in the countryside. From the back of the cab, Skye struggled to see where the boundaries of the golf courses ended; the landscape seemed to roll on for miles.
She was wearing the smartest white blouse she owned, and had applied just a touch of make-up to her face.
Prior to taking on the assignment, Skye had been required to sign what felt like an endless array of non-disclosure and confidentiality agreements. Margo had told her that the Arrington company was being extra-careful at this time as it was under investigation. Local residents had been complaining of ‘scare tactics’…arson attacks at night, poisoning livestock…all designed to scare these residents into selling their houses. Rumor was that these actions were being sanctioned by the Arrington company itself, which wanted the nearby land to expand the golf resort. It was even said that approval for these acts was coming from the very top of the company. Skye wondered what kind of man that made Cace Arrington. I guess I’ll find out soon enough, she thought.
Dee, the friendly doorman at the entrance of hotel, couldn’t hide his delight as Skye stepped out of the cab. He had seen little of interest all day, and even in her simple blouse, Skye had a natural beauty that resonated with men. He helped her with her bags, and directed her into the lobby, where she was to ask for ‘Head of Staff, Petra Runington.’
What Margo had only told Skye about this secretarial role, much later on, was that it would be for approximately three weeks–as the club prepared for the grand opening of a special golf tournament to be hosted at the resort. During those three weeks, Skye would be required to reside at the hotel so that she could be ‘on-call’ for any urgent assistance.
The inside lobby of the hotel reminded Skye of a hunting lodge with its mahogany walls, leather couches and fireplace. To the back of the lobby was an impressive bar area with seating. A man and woman were the only other people in the lobby; both wearing suits and both chatting noisily to one another. The woman was in her fifties with shoulder length blonde-hair, whilst the man, similar in age, was tall with thinning brown hair. The woman had a tendency to burst into a loud, throaty laugh every time the man said something she found amusing.
The woman glanced over at Skye, and as though to apologize for the noise, said, “Lawyer talk!”
Skye fidgeted uncomfortably in the lobby, feeling more and more out-of-place with every passing second.
Suddenly from the top of the lobby’s staircase, came an attractive woman only a few years older than Skye. She walked with the poise of someone who had been privately-educated, and wore the hair of someone that could afford an expensive salon.
“Hi. I’m Petra,” she announced, almost pushing past Skye to get to the man and woman. “It’s an absolute pleasure. My colleague down the hallway will show you to the conference room!”
As the man and woman headed off to the conference room, the woman who’d identified herself as Petra turned to face Skye.
“Hi, I’m Skye. The new secretary,” said Skye offering her hand to shake.
Petra immediately took Skye by the arm and pulled her to one side.
“Yes, Skylar. I need to just pick you up on something straight away. Those two people were Margaret Landry and Paul Kingsley, two of the most esteemed criminal attorneys in the country. I would have hoped you’d have taken your luggage directly to your room before clocking in with me as it doesn’t look great for our staff-members to be loitering around in the lobby with their suitcases. Especially with all the bad press that seasonal workers get these days. I hope you can understand?”
Before Skye could respond, she continued, “I know you’re not going to be with us for very long but here at Arrington we do expect that level of attention to detail. Now Mr. Arrington is about to begin a conference with his lawyers so if you could drop your things to your room, I’ll need you down in the conference room in five minutes to take notes.”
With that, Petra turned on a heel and walked off. Welcome to Arrington Woodlands, thought Skye. What a place.
*****
Adjusting her blouse to look presentable, Skye turned the golden handle that opened the door to the conference room.
Inside, the two attorneys from the lobby, Margaret and Peter were huddled with Cace Arrington around a small television set. There was a form of grainy CCTV playing on the screen.
On the other side of the conference room, Petra was barking orders at staff members as they laid out refreshments. Where Skye came from, refreshments meant donuts and potato chips. Here, refreshments meant gastronomical snacks served on little spoons, and brightly-colored macarons.
The food, however, was not what caught Skye’s attention. What caught her attention was Cace Arrington. When she’d heard her new boss was a leisure tycoon, she’d automatically assumed he’d be a round-bellied, middle-aged man. He was not.
In his late thirties, Cace was a good-looking man, with piercing green eyes and a wave of short brown hair, combed back. He had a strong jaw covered in stubble and there was, Skye noticed, a little dimple in his chin.
He looked up when Skye entered; a look of curiosity on his face. Skye drew up a chair on the opposite side of Cace, and opened her notebook. She was already feeling nervous about taking down the notes correctly, and she didn’t need to be distracted.
Cace’s attorneys were drawing his attention to three masked figures on the screen. The footage, captured at night, appeared to be from a security camera. The three masked figures were seen lighting something before throwing it across a field in the direction of a small house.
“Now obviously your litigation with the owner of that house has been well-publicized,” Margaret began. “But that alone would never link someone of your stature with this kind of criminal activity.”
“The problem arises with the fact that police did cell-site analysis of the area,” Peter chimed in. “And what they found was data from an office-mobile belonging to the Arrington Woodland estate.”
Skye noticed how Petra would annoyingly chip in with a breathy ‘uh huh’ every time the attorneys used legal terminology—a gesture intended to demonstrate how well she was following the conversation.
“But every member of staff in the resort has access to that mobile,” Cace explained, responding to his attorneys’ points.
“Yes. But the obvious implication is that this activity is being carried out under your orders. And the media is running with that story,” cautioned Margaret. “Internet rumors and conspiracy theories abound. Some are even saying you’re ‘man number three’ on the CCTV. So we need to act quickly to silence these stories.”
Skye studied the CCTV. It was clear why the internet rumor-mongers couldn’t say the other two men were Cace; the shadowy figures were too stocky. But the third figure depicted on the CCTV was very similar to Cace; tall and slim with a confident gait.
Was her new boss really a law-breaking felon? Skye wondered to herself.
“T
he longer these stories remain out there, unchallenged, the more damage they’re doing to you, and the more pressure they’re placing on the board of directors,” Peter continued.
As the footage played over and over again on a loop, Skye found herself being almost hypnotized by it. Her attention was suddenly called back into sharp focus when Petra shouted from across the room, “Excuse me, Miss Wilder. Are you writing all this down as required?”
Skye jumped, and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She could feel Cace’s eyes on hers, and felt her cheeks start to blush.
“Yes. I…er…I just noticed something that might be relevant,” Skye stammered in her usual husky voice.
This prompted Petra to march angrily across the room toward Skye. “I’m sorry? Which law school did you attend which gives you the right to tell two of the finest lawyers in the country what is relevant?”
“No. It’s just the CCTV,” started Skye. She turned to Cace, “Do you have any tattoos?”
At the forwardness of this question, Petra nearly barfed on the spot. Cace, however, turned curiously to Skye and shook his head.
“Cace…I mean, Mr. Arrington…is meant to be ‘man number three’ on the footage,” Skye continued. “But at 4:32 on the video, there is a moment where ‘man number three’s’ hand is on show, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s a small black tattoo near his wrist.”
As the attorneys excitedly forwarded the footage to the relevant spot, Cace broke out into a wide smile. Skye too felt herself smiling on the inside, not that she’d scored one against Petra but that she’d been right about the CCTV. She glanced over at Cace, and the two of them studied each other; curious, like two species discovering each other for the first time.
Petra stood close by, seething.
At the conclusion of the conference, the mood of the room had changed dramatically. Discussions of ‘damage control’ had moved on to confident proclamations about how the Arrington company would vigorously fight back against the defamatory stories.
Petra continued her charm offensive on Margaret and Peter, and Skye wondered how it was humanly possible for someone to mention they’d graduated from Dartmouth College as much as Petra did.
As everyone in the room gathered up their things, exchanging pleasantries and saying their goodbyes, Cace leaned over to Skye.
“You’re the new secretary, right?”
Skye smiled back. “Yes, I’m Skye Wilder. Nice to meet you.”
Before they could exchange any more words, Petra stepped in between them. “Mr. Arrington, I’m so sorry to interrupt. But I must remind you of your video-conference with one of the tournament organizers.”
And with that, Mr. Arrington was ushered away. Skye stood back in the conference room, clutching her notebook. It had been a day full of revelations and surprises, she thought.
*****
That evening, there was a thunderstorm, and rain poured ferociously against the window of what would be Skye’s room for the next three weeks. She had been pleasantly surprised with the hotel room assigned to her for the duration of her stay. It was spacious with an ensuite bathroom, and a balcony overlooking one of the green golf-courses.
As she tossed and turned trying to get used to the silky sheets of the unfamiliar bed, she found her mind turning to her new boss. He was definitely not what she had expected. What had he thought of her? Had he been impressed with her in the conference room? She wondered.
She mentally scolded herself for caring what he thought. Why did she care what this man thought about her? She hardly knew him.
Then her mind wandered on to other thoughts. Cace was a man who had made millions if not billions through his business-savvy. Why would he be impressed with her? A twenty-something year-old, who was struggling to meet her day-to-day bills and had only recently turned from exotic dancing to do so.
She pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Her past relationships with men had been rather like her past careers: transient, unpredictable and non-committal. She’d dated some relatively decent men but they’d all exhibited instability: a desire to constantly uproot and travel, an over-interest in fickle hobbies such as gambling, an inability to hold down a job…sometimes all three. Skye craved some form of stability, having been raised in a household devoid of any.
Finding her thoughts drifting back to the past, she decided to get out of bed and grab a drink from the hotel bar.
It must have been about one in the morning. As the glass elevator descended, Skye looked down at the quiet bar, seeing only two or three people who had clearly had the same idea as her.
She pulled up a seat in the bar area, and stared out into the hotel lobby. She contemplated what she’d do once this job post came to an end. Would she ever create some stability for herself? Or was this it, destined to wander from job to job, being pulled in any direction that life took her?
Suddenly, appearing through the revolving door of the lobby, Skye could see Cace. He was the last person she’d expected to see at this time. And he was with someone. She blinked her eyes, drawing the two figures into focus. He was with a female. A blonde female. But it wasn’t Petra. This woman was a few years younger than Petra. She was beautiful like a glamour model. A glamour model who could afford designer handbags, Skye noticed.
Was that his wife? Or his girlfriend? Maybe just a friend.
Skye watched on. They appeared to be enjoying each other’s conversation. And then, without any prompting from the female, Cace leaned in, and gave her a long, passionate kiss. When he kissed, he closed his eyes, as though he was overwhelmed with the sensation.
Definitely not a friend, thought Skye. She suddenly felt uncomfortable watching like this, and worried that Cace and his female companion might decide to have a drink at the bar. She didn’t want Cace to see her like this, alone in a bar with no make-up on. She laid down some cash to cover the cost of the drink, and made her way around the side of the bar toward the elevator. She would have to walk toward the lobby to get there, but if she made a quick left at the right moment, Cace and his female companion wouldn’t notice her.
It didn’t work. Although Skye kept her head down the whole time, when the doors of the elevator beeped to signal they were closing, Cace momentarily looked up from kissing the female, and stared directly into the elevator. Skye’s eyes met with his. And then the doors of the elevators shut.
*****
When Cace Arrington was required to stay at the resort for business, he took up residence in the one of the master suites of the hotel. Skye had read about them in the hotel brochure: 600 square feet of pure luxury–with a walk-in closet and whirl-pool bath among some of the features they had to offer.
From her less palatial room, Skye dialed through to her boss’ suite, trying to get a response. Earlier in the morning, Petra had given her a timetable of all Cace’s appointments for the week–and made it clear that any errors in scheduling would fall squarely on Skye’s shoulders. In other words, if her boss failed to get up for an important 11am meeting with a sponsor, it would be her fault, Skye now started to realize. She checked the time and saw it was just after 10:30am.
Not knowing what else to do and unable to reach Petra, Skye took the elevator up to the fourth floor of the hotel building. Her ‘staff’ key-pass gave her access to the floor, and she found the door to Cace’s suite at the end of a long corridor.
She paused for a moment, not sure if waking up the boss was ever a good decision. What if the blonde female from last night was still on the other side of the door, she wondered. She checked the time and saw that it was nearly 10:40am. The schedule had stated in big, bold letters that the meeting was important. Tentatively, Skye knocked on the door to the suite.
“Hello. Mr. Arrington?” she called from the door. “It’s Skye. The new secretary. You have a meeting at 11am.”
Men always found Skye’s husky voice sexy, but she doubted that would make the boss any more agreeable to being woken up from a deep sleep. There was no response.
Hesitantly, Skye stepped into the master suite, announcing her presence. “Hello?” she called out. She could make out the faint smell of expensive bath products.
Skye found Cace, sleeping in the king-size bed. There was no blonde female. A thin white bed sheet covered his lower half, leaving his bare chest exposed. He had a strong, muscular physique with a touch of chest hair. He looked serene as he slept.
Not wanting to get too close, Skye called out from the entrance of the bedroom. “Mr. Arrington! You have a meeting…” There was no response. She went over to Cace, and nudged his shoulder, trying to rouse him. He didn’t stir. She checked the time again. It was now 10:46am. Fast running out of options, Skye grabbed a cup of water on the bedside cabinet, and threw the water at Cace. He roused immediately, jumping up, and blinking his eyes.
“Skye?” he said, his mind slowly waking up.
“I’m so sorry!” said Skye. “I’ve been trying to wake you up for the last hour. You have a meeting in less than fifteen minutes with one of the tournament sponsors.”
“Oh shit!” said Cace, jumping out of the bed, the bed sheet falling away, leaving him completely naked. He cringed at his error, and quickly grabbed the sheet covering himself back up.
“I’m so sorry!” he said.
“Worry less about my modesty! And get yourself in the shower quick!” smiled Skye, quickly averting her gaze and acting as though she wasn’t bothered. She hid her emotions well though because deep down, she was bothered; hot and bothered of the pleasant variety. So Mr. Arrington was endowed in other areas of his life, thought Skye, hating herself for letting her mind go there.
Skye was surprised by how comfortable she was starting to feel around Cace, and how the formalities seemed to fall away. As Cace ran into the bathroom and jumped under the walk-in shower, the door still ajar, he asked Skye to grab some paperwork from his writing desk to bring to the meeting.
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