Jenay nodded. “Fair enough,” she responded.
“Tell me what happened with Beatrice,” he said and began rubbing her between her legs.
“She isn’t pleased with your selection,” she said, closing her eyes to his rub.
“That’s a conclusion. Tell me what she did.”
“She went out of her way to make it clear to me that I wasn’t coming in here running anything. The way she made it clear was to march my black behind straight to the kitchen and introduce me to the housekeeping supervisor. She thought it was funny.”
“Yeah, it’s funny alright. The funny part is if she thinks I’m going to put up with anybody’s racism b.s..” Then he looked at Jenay. “I guess you know what it looks like, don’t you?”
“What?”
“Racism. Racial hatred.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jenay said. “I know what it looks like.”
“How do you handle it?”
“I don’t. It’s not my problem to handle. I keep doing what I’m doing and trust that good will always triumph over evil. Because guess what? It always does.”
Charles held her tighter. “So Moynihan decided you belong in the kitchen.”
“That was her point, I’m sure. I think she thought I was going to react some kind of way, but that didn’t happen. So then she showed me around the rest of the building, but she wouldn’t honor my request to see a single unoccupied guestroom. According to her, there were no unoccupied rooms.”
“She lied,” Charles said, “but go on.”
“It was just general disrespect,” Jenay went on. “That was the main thing. She and your girlfriend were like a tag team coming at me.”
Charles looked at Jenay. “My what?”
“Your girlfriend. At least that’s who she said she was.”
Charles stared at her. “What was her name?”
“Paige somebody,” she said. “I asked her who she was, since she was putting her two cents into my conversation with Beatrice, and that’s what she said. She’s your girlfriend.”
Charles exhaled. “She’s not,” he said.
Jenay looked at him.
“She’s not,” he said again. “No.”
But Jenay knew there was more to the story. The woman looked arrogant, but she didn’t look delusional. “Who is she then? You know her?”
“I know her, yes. She’s somebody I used to . . . I used to have sex with.”
“So she used to be your girlfriend?”
“She was never my girlfriend. Let’s get that straight. She used to be somebody I had sex with. Period.”
Jenay decided to go there. “You mean she used to be to you what I am to you now?” She then looked at him, as if his reaction to the question was just as important as his answer.
Charles snuggled her closer against him. And he frowned. “Nothing like you,” he said, and kissed her on the side of her face. And he meant what he said. “There’s no way I would have left New York in the middle of negotiations if all you meant to me was what you could give to me in bed. No way.”
Then he exhaled. “Get some sleep,” he ordered her. “We’ve both had a long day.”
Jenay closed her eyes more than happy to sleep. It had been a long day, alright, he was right about that. But it had also turned out to be a magnificent night.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
He was still asleep. After she’d gotten up, showered and dressed, he was still asleep. He’d already told her he was not a morning person, and rarely got up before nine. But it was nearly ten. And he was still fast asleep.
She thought he would want to go downstairs with her, to get Miss Beatrice Moynihan and the rest of his employees straight, but she couldn’t wait any longer. As she looked at him snore, she knew he was too tired and was sleeping too peacefully for her to even consider waking him up and disturbing his rest.
She went downstairs. To the tiny office that Beatrice had decided would be hers. She grabbed the files she had been reviewing yesterday afternoon, and headed for the office that had to be hers: Beatrice’s office. Not because she was on any power trip. She wasn’t. But she was the GM. If she expected the staff, from Beatrice on down, to respect her as GM, she knew she had to become the boss. Charles was her boss, and she was theirs. The one thing she already figured about Charles: he didn’t play. If he made her the general manager, he expected her to act like the GM.
Megan was filing in Beatrice’s office when Jenay walked in.
“Where’s Miss Moynihan?” she asked.
“She hasn’t made it in yet, ma’am.”
“She hasn’t?” This news surprised Jenay. “What time is she usually here?”
“Whenever she gets here,” Megan responded.
Jenay looked at her. “You mean she had no set schedule? She comes in whenever she feels like it?”
“Pretty much. Yes ma’am.”
Jenay couldn’t believe it.
“Do you need to use her office, ma’am?” Megan asked her.
“I do, yes,” Jenay responded. “If it’s not a great inconvenience for you.”
“Not at all,” Megan said. “I can finish filing anytime.” She began grabbing her files. “I heard Big Daddy was back in town and was coming over today anyway. If I were you,” she warned Jenay, “I’d stay out of his way when he shows up. I know I always do.”
“And who’s Big Daddy?” Jenay asked as she sat behind Beatrice desk and made space for the records she had to review.
“Mr. Sinatra,” Megan said, and Jenay, who had been only mildly paying attention, looked at her. “He’s the man who owns Jericho Inn.”
Jenay stared at Megan. “They call Charles Sinatra Big Daddy?”
“Yes, ma’am. I thought you knew.”
“But why?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” Megan mused. “Maybe it’s because he has all those hunky sons.”
“So his children mainly call him that?”
“No,” Megan quickly said. “They don’t call him that at all. They seem to hate the name. It’s the people around town who calls him that. But I don’t think it’s a term of endearment or anything like that.”
“Why not?”
Megan smiled. “Because! He can be so . . . I don’t know. He’s kind of mean. But I can’t let Miss Beatrice hear me saying that. And she hates when I call him Big Daddy behind his back. She hates the term too. But mainly because she doesn’t feel he’s a good enough man to deserve a nickname of any kind.”
“I see,” Jenay responded, unsure how to process such information.
“I’ll be in the break room if you need me,” Megan said, as she began leaving.
“Oh, and Meg,” Jenay said.
Megan looked at her. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Let me know when Miss Moynihan arrives.”
“Sure thing,” Megan said, and left.
It would be another hour, but Megan did what she was told and notified Jenay as soon as Beatrice arrived.
“She’s at the front desk,” Megan said.
Jenay immediately left the financial records she were reviewing and made her way to the front desk. Beatrice was preparing herself a cup of coffee.
As Jenay walked over to her, Charles stepped off of the elevator and entered the front desk area too. He was pleased to know that neither one saw him. So he didn’t announce himself, and stood back.
“Good morning,” Jenay said to Beatrice.
Beatrice didn’t bother to turn around. “Good morning.”
“I need a copy of your schedule.”
“Yeah, sure,” Beatrice said noncommittally.
“I also need a list of the unoccupied rooms.”
Beatrice sighed. “I told you yesterday there are no unoccupied rooms.”
“I’m sure there is somebody who checked out this morning.”
“There are no vacancies,” Beatrice said. Then she looked at Jenay. “None. Alright?”
“Good morning ladies,” Charles said, and both ladies turned.
Beatrice was surprised. “Mr. Sinatra,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d be back today.”
Charles turned on the computer. “How many empty rooms do we have, Bea?” he asked her.
“Empty rooms?” Beatrice asked, careful not to look at Jenay. “We have several,” she said as he pulled up the vacancy list. “Quite a few.”
Jenay looked at Beatrice, ready to call her on her lies. “You told me there were no vacancies,” she said.
“You misunderstood me,” Beatrice claimed.
“You told me that repeatedly,” Jenay responded, refusing to go along.
“You misunderstood me,” Beatrice said again.
“Don’t misunderstand me,” Charles said as he printed out the vacancy list and then looked up at her. “You’re fired.”
Beatrice and Jenay both were stunned. Especially Beatrice. “Fired?”
“Fired,” Charles said. “And that was no misunderstanding. Hand me your keys. Then clear out your desk.”
He grabbed the vacancy list off of the printer. Beatrice, still in shock, handed him her master keycards. “But Mr. Sinatra,” she started. But Charles would have none of it.
He ignored her. “Let’s go see the rooms,” he said to Jenay, and began heading toward the elevators.
Jenay looked at Beatrice, she was just as stunned as she was, but she followed Charles. She was amazed at how little compassion he showed for his employee, but she knew to be an effective boss, she would have to make unpleasant decisions too. Although, even with a woman like Beatrice who probably hated her guts, it wasn’t going to be as easy for Jenay to pull off.
They stepped onto the elevator and leaned back against the rail. As soon as the door closed, Charles placed his hand on the back of her neck and began to rub her. They kissed on the lips. “Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked.
“You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to disturb that.”
“Good,” he said with a weary smile. “It’s eleven o’ clock and I’m still barely awake.” He yawned. “I’ve got to go home and change and get to my office.”
Jenay looked down at Charles’s attire. She’d already noticed that he was wearing his suit pants and dress shirt from last night. She didn’t realize how wrinkled they looked today. Probably had something to do with the way he flung them off last night. “You aren’t returning to New York?” she asked him.
“No. My partners can handle it. They claim they need me, oh how they need me, but it’s bullshit. They can manage just fine. Besides, they want to invest in this coffee house far more than I do.”
“A coffee house?” Jenay asked.
“To rival Starbucks, they claim. We’ll see. If the price is right, I’ll go along. If it’s not, I won’t.”
Jenay smiled. “The venture capitalist at work.”
“There you go,” Charles said as the elevator stopped and the doors prepared to open on the fourth floor. He looked at Jenay. “Come and pick me up this evening,” he said. “I’m taking you to dinner.”
Jenay liked that. “Okay.”
They stepped off of the elevator and began walking along the sleek corridor. “I’ll program my office address in the Jag’s GPS before I leave.”
“But how will you get home and to your office if you leave your car with me?”
“Transportation is never a problem around here. I’ll get Megan or even my son Donald to pick me up.”
Megan, Jenay thought. Pretty. Young. Sweet. She looked at Charles as they walked.
Charles looked at her. “What?”
She decided to be blunt. “So is Megan one of your bed warmers too?”
He smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
“Me? Jealous? Of course I’m jealous! What do you take me for?”
Charles laughed and placed his hand on her lower back. A guest walked pass, and looked back at them. “No, there’s nothing like that going on. I don’t fool with kids. She’s far too young for me. They have to be old ladies like you to get my attention.”
Jenay smiled. “Then I can spare Meg long enough to drive you home.”
“Oh, you can, can you?” Charles asked with a smile of his own as they arrived at the vacant room.
“But wait a minute,” Jenay said. “I thought you said you owned a car dealership.”
“I do. My son Donald works there.”
“So you have many vehicles then.”
“That I personally own? No. Just the Jag.”
“You own a car dealership, but you only own one car?”
“That’s correct. I can only drive one car. I only own one car. But that was before I met you,” Charles added as he swiped the master keycard and they entered the room.
Jenay felt some kind of way as she walked into the room. Not about the room, but about what Charles had said. It sounded as if he was serious about building a future with her. The fact that he had come back from New York early, just because he didn’t like the way she sounded on the telephone, spoke volumes to her. Although the job was still stressful, and she hated that Beatrice had to lose her position like that after so many years working here, but the personal side was shaping up just fine. Better than she could have ever hoped.
“This is one of our standard rooms,” Charles said as they walked around the room. Like the hotel itself, it was a gorgeous room, and Charles seemed pleased.
“As you can see,” he said, “the maid staff keeps it in tiptop shape.”
But at BHI Jenay was trained on how, as a manager, she was supposed to inspect a room. She wiped the underside of a table. A pile of dust appeared on her finger. She flared out the beautiful drapes. More dust. So much so that Charles coughed. She wiped the window sills. Pure dirt. She lifted the beautiful oriental rug in the middle of the floor. A burn spot and a few other spots appeared. Charles was floored.
“I’ll be damned,” he said. “So that’s why you wanted to see the rooms?”
“You can always, and I mean always tell the general health of an establishment, not by the lobby or the outside buildings, but by the way they take care of their rooms. If they have excellent rooms, they have excellent management. If they have rooms where they are hiding things or cutting corners, then you have a management team that’s cutting corners too.”
Charles walked over to the phone. He picked it up and pressed Housekeeping. When a woman came on the line, he pounced. “This is Sinatra,” he said. “I’m in room 452. Get up here now!” He hung up the phone.
Jenay continued her inspection. He was impressed. She took her job super-seriously, and he liked that. “You also started going over the books yesterday,” he said.
“I’m still going over them, yes.”
“What’s your verdict so far?”
Jenay stopped inspecting and thought about her answer. “So far, so good,” she said. “Megan keeps meticulous books. She’s definitely not the problem.”
Charles nodded, and looked down at the burn spots on his floor. “Good,” he said. “At least somebody’s doing their job.”
He sat on the bed, and then laid back, that tiredness sweeping over him again. He watched her as she continued to look over every aspect of the upscale room. He was getting hard watching her body move around that room, and even she could see his pants begin to tent. But she considered herself on the clock right now. She wasn’t about to go down that road with him right now.
A knock was heard on the door, and Charles sat up. “Come in!” he yelled.
An older white woman in her fifties entered the room. She hurried toward Charles. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Edna. Have you met your new boss?”
“Oh, yes, sir. Beatrice brought her down to Housekeeping and introduced us yesterday.”
Charles looked at Jenay. He wanted to see for himself how she would handle a situation like this.
“Since it opened nearly twenty years ago.”
Jenay had assumed she was a long timer, just not that long. “How long have you been the supervisor?”
“About that time. Eighteen-nineteen years. They promoted me almost as soon as I got here.”
“Since you’re such an experienced Housekeeping Supervisor, Edna,” Jenay went on, “would you say your primary responsibility is to oversee the housekeepers?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m to make sure they’re doing their jobs.”
“And if they aren’t doing their jobs?”
“Then I have a problem,” Edna responded.
“You have a problem,” Jenay said, and proceeded to show Edna the various problem points.
Charles watched as the two ladies made the rounds. He was proud of Jenay. She was all business and had that air of professionalism he saw in her when they first met. But she had weak spots too. He saw it in her eyes when he terminated Beatrice. She was going to be taken advantage of by these cunning Jericho folk if she wasn’t careful.
But he also realized she was going to be careful because she had him. And nobody was going to do a damn thing to hurt her or take advantage of her as long as he was around. But he was out of town often, and there was no way it was going to change any time soon. She was going to have to develop a thicker skin and a tougher coat to survive these salt-of-the-earth-hypocritical Jerichodians.
When the two ladies came out of the bathroom, Edna was filled with something Charles despised: excuses.
“I declare if I didn’t tell that maid to take care of that mildew in the shower stall. It’s small, and the guests could barely see it, but I did tell her to take care of it.”
“Whether the guests can see it or not is irrelevant,” Jenay said. “The fact that the mildew is there is what matters. The mildew cannot be there.”
Big Daddy Sinatra: There Was a Ruthless Man (The Sinatras of Jericho County Book 1) Page 12