by Debra Kayn
“Yes. I had everything under control.” She walked over and picked up a cloth pouch, removed the tool he needed, and handed it to him. “I was about to figure out the problem, really I was. I only had a few more things I had to describe to Bruce.”
“Thanks.” He quickly tightened down the three screws, and closed the hood. “Who’s Bruce?”
“The mechanic I called.”
He grunted. “I fixed it. The driver shouldn’t have any problem now.”
“H-how do you know that’s the problem?” She followed close behind him. “It could be any number of things. Just look how dirty and greasy everything is. That can’t be good. I’ll have to tell Mr. Holland his cars need to be serviced.”
He reached inside the open car door and turned the keys in the ignition. The engine roared to life. She squealed and threw her arms around his waist.
“You did it!” She smiled up at him. “Thank you."
She pulled back, moved to cover her mouth, and stopped. "Sorry. I got grease on your shirt."
He chuckled. "No problem."
Even if the whole charade was a plan of his brother’s, he wanted nothing more than to fix whatever problem arose if she acted that happy over a missing distributor cap. He brushed his hands off and motioned for George.
“George will move the car.” He guided her to the sidewalk. “Let’s get you inside.”
She bounced along beside him, trying to keep up with his longer strides. He slowed down, so she wouldn’t have to hurry.
“What was the part called that fixed the car?”
“A distributor cap.” He gazed down into her eyes.
She’d produced a small notebook and scribbled the information down. He stepped back, trying to figure out where she’d hide anything in the slim skirt and blouse. Damn, she had a nice body.
Slim and fit, with a little extra wiggle on bottom. He snagged his toe on the carpet, and jerked his gaze up, glad to find she was still concentrating on writing.
“What are you jotting down?” He stopped at the front desk
She walked behind the counter and put her notebook underneath. “I wanted to make sure I had the information in case this happens again. That way I can run to the auto parts store and save Holland Hotel money.”
“I doubt if that’s part of your job.” He gazed around. “Where are your drivers?”
“We only have one driver scheduled. There was a slight misunderstanding and he wasn’t notified that he had to work today.” She leaned forward. “That won’t happen again. I’ll be calling the drivers every night to make sure we have someone here. Small hotel or not, I should have a backup plan, so these kinds of things don't happen in the future.”
He caught George out of his peripheral vision. “Excuse me.”
George saw him coming and walked down the hall. Hank rounded the corner after him. Employee loyalty or not, Drake was going too far.
“She handled the problem great, right?” George beamed.
“No.” He shook his head. “What did you expect her to do, magically invent a new distributor cap? Even a mechanic couldn’t help her without seeing the problem for himself. She's too stubborn to take anyone's help, and screwing with the cars is going overboard. Whatever you do, don't mention how I helped Ava when you report back to Drake. Not a word. Do you understand.”?
“But, Mr. Holland told me to fiddle with the car so it wouldn’t start. That’s what I did.” George straightened his tie. “I was only following directions.”
“I know.” He swept off his cowboy hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “Never mind. I’ll talk to Drake, but between you and me, no more tricks with the vans.”
“Fine, but you won't be able to call Mr. Holland. He’s vacationing without any cell service.”
“The hell he is.” He glared. “Where is he hiding out?”
“He didn’t say, sir. I’m telling the truth.”
He cussed under his breath. “If you get one word from him, come and get me. Don’t let Drake hang up before I talk to him.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Dammit, George.” He glanced behind him. “Stop calling me sir.”
“Mr. Johnson?” Ava walked around the corner. “Oh good, I caught you. I wanted to ask how you happened to have the right part for the car?”
George straightened. “That would be me. I noticed there was a cap missing when I helped you lift the hood of the van. I thought I remembered seeing one in the parts closet and sure enough, it was the part we needed. Mr. Ho-Johnson was walking out at the same time I was, and I asked him to take it out to you, so I could answer a page to the third floor.”
“Oh.” She smiled and relaxed. “Thank you so much, George. That was sweet of you.”
Hank stood, ignored, and gazed after her until she was out of sight. Then he glared at George. “Could you be any more pathetic?”
George blushed. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”
“The hell you don’t.” He shook his head. “I can't believe you're making a damn fool of yourself over a woman.”
“Mr. Holland, I–”
“Hank.” He ground his teeth together. “I swear, before the day is done, I’m going to get ahold of my brother and kill him.”
George snickered. Hank waited to find out what was making the older man laugh, but no answer was forthcoming.
“What?”
“You’re jealous.” George lowered his voice. “You want Ava.”
“I don’t have time for the bullshit Drake’s throwing my way, why would you think I have time to get involved with Ava? Besides, she's too young for me.” He blew air out of his lips. “Go do your job, George, and for God’s sake, lay off on any more tricks for the rest of the day. I need a break.”
George brushed his sleeve off. “Very well, sir. In the meantime, should I suggest that you refrain from supplying liquor to our acting manager when she’s not aware of it, and stick to what Mr. Holland has dictated?”
Dammit. Hank glared. “Point taken.”
That had been a bad idea. He had no idea one drink was going to go straight to her head, or that she'd encourage him and ignore their age difference. She made it impossible not to think about her. This charade was out of control.
Chapter Five
Ava stood behind the partition in the back of the conference room, listening to Hank’s voice as he spoke to the room. She bit down on her lip. She would have recognized his deep, low, drawl anywhere, except it wasn’t his tone that distracted her from doing her job.
“…a system that enhances natural biodiversity and organic processes, using natural resources in handling. As you know, that eliminates synthetic chemicals and other artificial man-made additives, such as genetically modified organisms, or what we call GMO’s. To follow organic practices, it's required that land and soil must be micro managed for three years using only federally accepted products before it can be certified organic,” Hank said.
Ava blinked. Every word he spoke sounded like gibberish to her, but it was the way he pronounced each syllable loud and clear. All the times that they’d talked, he’d used the Ah-shucks-ma’am- attitude she associated with him.
“I’ll let Steve White, from the Federal Food and Drug Administration talk with you and answer any questions,” said Hank.
Who knew raising cows and horses took smarts and an education, and why was he fooling her and the others into thinking he’d just walked off the ranch when it was obvious he had a higher education? She shook her head. That settled it. If for some reason she lost her job at Holland hotel, she wouldn’t be taking up ranching. She had no time to go to college.
She undid the strap holding the chairs on the cart. The pile clattered forward, and she shoved her hip in front of the metal chairs. The weight of the stack pushed her off balance. She yelped as her bottom hit the floor, and the chairs tumbled down on her. She froze, afraid to move and alert the men in the other room that she was listening in.
When no one came, she untangled her a
rm and pushed, but the chairs didn’t budge. She braced her hands on the floor and tried to squirm her way out from under the mess, but more chairs fell. She froze as the clatter settled around her.
Hank peeked around the curtain. “Whoa, hang on, darlin’.”
She groaned and sat there unable to get up on her own if she wanted to. Her pulse raced, and she dropped her chin to her chest. “This is a little embarrassing.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No,” she snorted. “I'm stuck.”
“I’ll have you out from under all that in a second.” He pushed the cart away from her and restacked the chairs. “What were you doing?”
“I need to take two chairs down to the employees’ lunch room. I was trying to be extra quiet, because you have a class in session but it obviously didn’t work out the way I planned.” She removed one of her legs from underneath the decreasing pile. “I thought the staff would enjoy sitting down during their lunch and getting off their feet. I noticed yesterday that there weren’t enough chairs for everyone.”
Hank removed the last chair and held out his hand. “Let me help you to your feet.”
She lifted her arm, and let him pull her up to a standing position. “Thanks. I hope I didn’t interrupt your meeting. It sounded important.”
“No, not at all.” He shrugged. “I was done, and coming to the back to take a break when I heard the crash.”
She tilted her head. “You’re different today.”
“How so?”
“You’ve lost…I don’t know. Your twang, I guess you’d call it.”
“Nah, you can’t take country livin’ outta the cowboy, darlin’.” He winked and leaned down closer. “Sometimes, I practice everything I learned in college to impress the other ranchers. It makes ‘em respect me more.”
She laughed. “I won’t tell them.”
Neither one of them spoke. After a few seconds, she glanced away and reached for the chair in his hand. “I’d better take these downstairs. Thank you for helping me. Again. That seems to be a habit of yours lately.”
“I’ll carry them for you.” He stepped away. “Show me where they need to go.”
She led him out into the hall, past the employee elevator, and headed to the one the guests used. It wouldn’t do to get him used to using the wrong elevator.
“I really can manage by myself.” She pushed the button for the lobby. “I’m not weak.”
“I want to help.”
Ava smiled at him. Whether he was educated or not, he had nice manners. Gram would’ve been impressed by his rescue. “Fine.”
“Sorry, it’s bred into me to help a woman.” He grinned. “It also gives me an excuse to talk with you again.”
“Oh,” she held the doors open, while he stepped inside. “About what?”
“Uh…the hot tub.” He shrugged. “It smelled heavily of chlorine this morning when I ran up to grab my cell phone that I forgot after my first meeting, and I wanted to know if that was normal.”
“I’ll check on it, but I imagine the housekeeper performed maintenance on it while she freshened up your bathroom and made your bed this morning.”
He leaned the chairs against his leg and removed his phone from his back pocket. He studied the screen, and then shut it off. “That’s probably what happened.”
“Hank?” she motioned toward the chairs. “I can take them if you have somewhere you need to be. I don’t need any help, despite how incompetent I appeared with the stack of chairs laying on me, I mean.”
“That’s okay. I was going back to my room. I have time.”
She glanced at him. “Are you sure? You seem distracted.”
“I’m starving. I overslept this morning, and haven’t eaten yet.” He walked beside her. “Hey, why don’t you join me?”
“Oh, I can’t.” She smiled. “I’m not supposed to fraternize with the guests.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” He chuckled. “It’s only lunch.”
She laughed. “I’m sorry, but no. Thank you for asking though.”
An extreme case of flutters exploded in her stomach. She half turned. Lunch would almost qualify as a date.
The thought of going out on a date with Hank appealed to her, but he was a guest. In a week’s time, he’d go back to wherever he came from. By then, her trial period would be over, and if she successfully ran the hotel, she’d have a permanent job. Then, if he wanted to go out on a date, she could.
He studied the control panel. She studied him. It was easy to forget all of the guests came for short periods and went home to their real lives. He probably lived halfway across the country, and she’d never see him again.
“I think something’s wrong.” Hank moved in front of her, and pushed a few buttons. “Not that I don’t like being shut in here with you, but this is the slowest elevator I’ve ever been in.”
She jerked her gaze to the lights above the doors. “Oh God, the lights aren’t changing. We’re stuck.”
“It’s okay.” He opened the cubby underneath the control panel. “I’ll call the emergency line. Someone will come and open the door. They’ll have us out of here in a jiffy.”
She scooted toward the corner of the elevator and braced her hands on the rails. Her heartbeat raced and her chest tightened. Was it getting hot in here?
The air grew heavy. She pressed her hand to the hollow of her neck. How could something like this happen? Why now? What if there was another emergency she needed to take care of, or someone was paging her? She fumbled with her cell phone. She had to get out of here.
She whimpered. “It’s not working.”
“Someone, I think it was George the concierge, said he called maintenance.” Hank turned around. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
She tried to swallow, but she couldn’t even manage that simple act with the lack of oxygen in the room. “I-I don’t like small…p-places.”
“Come here.” He held her hand and guided her to the middle of the elevator. “Take a deep breath.” He lifted and stretched both her arms straight out to the side. “See? We have lots of room. You can practically walk all around.”
“No. I can’t breathe.” She blinked to clear her vision, surprised when tears fell. “I-I’ll be okay. I know this is silly. I can’t help but think we’re stuck and going to die a long and painful death.”
He wiped her cheeks with his thumb. “Slow down. We might be stuck, but we’re together. You’re not alone. I’ll help you.”
“That doesn’t help.” She reached out and clutched his sleeve. “You’re big. You’ll take up all the oxygen.”
“I’ll hold my breath.” He blew out his cheeks.
She shook her head. "That's not funny.”
“Then let’s relax together.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Tell me what you like to do in your free time.”
“I-I like to stay out of small places.” She wiped her cheek.
“Ok. That’s good.” He nodded. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.” She blinked hard. “It’s getting hot in here.”
“Nah, it feels good. Pretend you’re out on a tropical island, enjoying pineapple and whatever else women like.” His fingers messaged her neck. “Loosen up. You’ll see.”
“Maybe you can call someone again,” she panted. “Nine-one-one or the fire department. They have the jaws of life.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, I should never have taken this job. I can’t do this. I’ll probably die, and then what am I going to do? No one will hire a dead person, and I have so much I have to do. I can’t leave things the way they are. My life is a mess, and I’m barely holding on.” She opened her mouth and sucked in air. “I won’t even be alive to find out if I got the managerial position.”
Out of other ideas, he leaned forward and kissed her. Her gasp muffled against his lips. Shocked, she could do nothing but hold on to his arm as the room spun. He pulled back and grinned. She choked and coughed. Her heart did a crazy dance and if she was dying, it was a
good way to die. She laughed almost hysterically.
“Are you trying to kill me?” She bent at the waist and braced her hands on her knees. “I think I’m having a heart attack. God, today sucks.”
He rubbed her back. “So, the kiss didn’t distract you?”
“No,” she snorted.
“Damn.” He pulled her back up, until she was standing straight. “Let’s try that again then.”
“I don’t…” she moaned in protest.
What was he doing? He couldn’t keep kissing her whenever he wanted. She shivered. Goosebumps broke out along her arms. His lips were softer than she imagined.
He cupped the back of her head. She leaned against him. He didn’t smell at all the way she imagined he would.
Spicy.
Almost a cinnamon outdoorsy scent.
She relaxed her mouth, and jolted when his lips opened to nibble on her lower lip. She sighed and let her head fall back.
“Better?” he mumbled against her mouth.
She closed her eyes. “Mmhmm…”
The warm stroke of his tongue brought feeling back to her limbs. She opened her mouth to take a big gulp of air, and found him exploring her mouth. She moaned. He tasted even better than he smelled—fresh and welcoming. She kissed him back with enthusiasm.
“We’re working on the mechanics now. It’ll only be a few more minutes, and we’ll have you folks out of the elevator,” a voice invaded their kiss.
She yelped and stepped back, staring at Hank.
His gaze bore into her eyes and he held her intimately as he rubbed his lips together. She covered her mouth. He shouldn’t have kissed her. She shouldn’t have kissed him back.
Kissing was against the employee rules, specifically, rule twenty-four, section B, page thirty-two, second paragraph. Not that she paid much attention to that part because she didn’t plan to date a guest.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I’m not supposed to kiss you.”
“I won’t tell,” he whispered.
She swallowed. “Thank you. I think.”
“Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah.” She straightened her blouse. “No.”
“Do you need another kiss?” He grinned.