by T N Lowe
With a deep baritone voice he asks, “Hello, is Mr. Dupot here?”
“Have we met before?” I blurt out without thinking.
The man smiles slightly studying my face, then looks down at my Forever locket. After my dream last night I had to wear it, I thought it would bring me good luck when meeting the new owner. “No Miss. Miller I don’t think we have had the pleasure before.” He says with a slight smirk on his face. He must have been reading my name tag, not my locket. “But I need to speak to Mr. Dupot if he is available.”
“Um… M-may I ask who’s asking for him?”
The men give me cocky smiles like I should know who they are. “You can tell him Patrick and Dylan Love are here to see him.”
“Oh my god, of course. If you would like to take a seat, I’ll send Jarrod right out,” I tell the two men sprinting to the manager’s office. I knock once on Jared’s door before opening it then scream and slam the door shut.
I hear the girl he had bent over the desk scream and Jared yell, “The fuck?”
Hearing my screams Patrick and Dylan run into the hallway. Dylan asks, “Are you okay?”
Patrick barks out, “What the hell is going on?” And as if on cue Jared and one of the girls from the kitchen step out of his office fixing their clothes. Patrick’s jaw tightens and says, “Mr. Dupot, I’d like to have a word with you please.”
“Who are you?” Jarrod asks, eyeing Patrick.
“I’m the new owner of this fine establishment. Now if I can please have a word?” Patrick bites into the word please like he is saying it to be courteous but in all reality, Jared has no choice but to follow Patrick into his office.
“Y-Yes Mr. Love, right this way,” Jared says with a smile.
A minute later Jared comes stomping out of his office when he sees me. I try to plaster myself against the wall to avoid the rage and anger in his eyes when he sees me. “I hope you’re happy you little bitch. Thanks to you I’ve lost my job.”
“Hey,” Dylan barks. “You lost your job because of you. Maybe if you kept it in your pants then you wouldn’t have lost your job. Now get the fuck out of here before I call the police.”
As Jared stomps away, Dylan puts his hands on my shoulders looking into my eyes, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
“If you two are done, I would like a word with Miss. Miller,” Patrick says leaning on the door jamb of the office with a knowing smirk on his face.
“Of course,” I reply pulling out of Dylan’s embrace. Walking past Patrick, he shuts the door telling me to take a seat.
Sitting in the seat across from me Patrick says, “As you know I have fired Jared. You will be acting Resort Manager until my managing staff can get here to take over. I will need you to come in tomorrow at seven and give me an in-depth tour of the resort and the booking schedule. Any questions Miss. Miller?”
“No, Mr. Love.”
“Good, then I will see you tomorrow.”
After work, I meet Willow at the Lobster Shack for dinner and drinks. Before I can even sit down, Willow asks, “How the hell did you get Jared fired? And why didn’t you do it sooner?”
I laugh, “I didn’t get him fired he was screwing one of the girls from the kitchen when the new owner came in to meet with him.”
“Wow, how stupid can you be? He knew they were coming today. It‘s about time he got what was coming to him.”
“Here, here,” I say raising my glass to hers.
“Now tell me, are the Love brothers as hot as everyone says? One of the girls who works in housekeeping saw them walk in and said they are panty melting hot.”
“Separate they are panty melting hot; together they are combustion level hot. I thought my brain would melt when I first saw the brothers and Patrick spoke to me.”
“Patrick? I think someone has a crush on the new boss,” Willow teases.
“What I can’t call him Mr. Love, there are two. That would be confusing.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself to get through the night.”
“Shut up, let’s drink.”
Two lobster rolls and four pitchers of beer later, “I need to stop and go home,” I slur.
“Why?” Willow yells so the whole restaurant can hear her.
“I have to give Patrick a tour of the resort tomorrow.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird he is so successful at such a young age?” Willow asks me.
“No, not really. Patrick’s parents are wealthy I’m sure they helped him get started and helped him connect with other wealthy successful people, and that is how he got to where he is today.”
“I don’t think so. I bet there is something else going on behind the senses.”
“Like what? A genie gave him the Midas touch, so everything he touches becomes successful.”
“No, I’m serious. Something is going on.”
“Okay, whatever you say. I need to get home,” I tell Willow before stumbling home.
Chapter Three
I wake the next morning with one hell of a hangover. My head is pounding in time with my heart, my eyes and mouth are as dry as the Sahara desert, and I reek of stale booze. Stepping into the shower, I wash last night off, down two pills for my headache, then dress in my work uniform, and add my Forever locket again. I pull my long black hair into a ponytail and leave for work.
At exactly six thirty in the morning, I enter the resort lobby glad I’ll have half an hour to compose myself before I have to deal with Patrick. But to my surprise, he is sitting in one of the lobby chairs and staring daggers at his cell phone. “Good Morning Miss. Miller.”
I’m distracted looking at his perfectly pressed and tailored black suit that showcases his broad chest and shoulders. He catches me staring and smirks. “Good Morning Mr. Love and please call me Lena.”
“Lena,” he repeats in his smooth deep voice. “Are you ready to begin the tour?”
“Um… Let me put my things away then I’ll be ready to show you around.”
“I’ll be here when you’re ready,” Patrick says as I walk to my office. I open my office door and find Dylan studying the computer screen. “Oh, hi,” I say surprised to see him.
“Sorry, I was told to pick an office, and yours is the closest to the office Patrick is using,” Dylan explains.
“No problem. I’m not in here much anyway. I need to put my bag away, do you mind?” I say pointing to a large desk drawer.
“No, please do,” Dylan replies as I unlock the drawer then toss my bag in the drawer then re-lock it saying, “Have a good day,” I call over my shoulder.
Rejoining Patrick in the lobby I study him; I know we’ve met before, but can’t place when or where. I’ve seen those eyes before and they are not common. Shaking the thought away I return to where Patrick is furiously typing a message on his phone with an angry look on his face, I’m glad that message isn’t for me.
“Are you ready?” Patrick barks when he notices me standing next to him. I’m taken aback at the anger lacing his voice. I nod unable to respond. “Good, I need to see if this place is worth keeping open.
I gesture to the lobby we are standing in and start, “This is the only part of the original Resort Inn left; it was built in the late eighteen hundreds and only had twenty rooms. During an expansion project in the nineteen-twenties, there was a fire that destroyed all but the room we are standing in now.” Walking across the lobby I continue, “We have two on-site restaurants and a full bar. One is an informal family-friendly restaurant; The Lobster Claw while the other is a formal restaurant, El Petit Phare.”
Patrick insists we walk through each dining room and kitchen while he furiously takes notes. From the way he is typing away, we’ll be lucky if we have restaurants when he’s done. Then he insists on speaking to each chef demanding to know their backgrounds and their perceived strengths and weaknesses. Walking further into the belly of the resort to the spa, “We have a full spa with three massage thera
pists, four stylists, two nail technicians, and two estheticians. We pride ourselves on being able to offer our guests the best relaxation for a perfect vacation.” We walk through the empty spa, Patrick exams everything with an eagle eye making notes as we go. When Patrick is done taking notes, we move to the fitness center.
“We have a full weight room with a variety of different cardio machines. We offer yoga, kickboxing, and personal trainers for guests who want to stay physically fit during their stay.” Again Patrick enters the fitness center studying all the equipment and making more notes.
“Can you book us a session with the personal trainer and kickboxing? I’m not into yoga, so I’ll take your word about its quality.”
“Sure, I can do that. You kickbox?” I ask picturing his large muscular body beating the hell out of a punching bag. “Wait a minute. Us?”
“I used to, but now I focus on Kempō, Capoeira, and Muay Thai. And yes, us. I want your opinion too.”
“Um, okay I guess. Wow, those are all like kickboxing?”
Patrick shakes his head, “No, they’re all forms of martial arts.”
“Impressive,” I say studying his body with more apperception than before. Moving back to the lobby I stop by the front desk for a list of empty rooms and a master key before we go upstairs to view the rooms we offer. Our first stop is the second floor to view a standard room. It houses a king, queen, or two double beds depending on the guests’ preference, a dresser, and two night stands with matching lamps, a desk and chair, a small lounge chair and attached bathroom.
“This is the standard room?” Patrick asks.
“Yes.”
“Do they all look like this?”
“The bed size varies depending on needs, but yes, they all look the same,” I reply.
“Okay,” he answers. Stepping into the hallway Patrick’s hand brushed my arm, a shiver runs through me at the contact. Patrick sees my reaction to him and smirks, the pompous ass knows how good he looks and is egging me on. But I ignore it and lead him to the fourth floor to see a mini suite.
Our mini suites have a separate living area from the bedroom. The suite opens into the living room where there is a navy blue couch, cherry wood end table, coffee table, and TV armoire with a fifty-five inch TV. Through the second door is the bedroom and bathroom. The bedroom houses a king cherry wood slay bed with matching nightstands and dresser with a thirty-five inch TV. The bathroom has a rain shower and vanity table. Walking into the room, Patrick asks, “This is a mini suite?”
“Yes, Mr. Love.”
“When was the last time they were remodeled? And it’s Patrick, Lena.”
“The summer of 2002, Patrick.”
Patrick nods studying the room making more notes on his phone. I stay in the living room letting him study everything and make notes. When he’s done, “Let’s move on,” he states taking my hand and leading me out of the suite. I shudder from the feeling of my hand in his. We step into the elevator, and the car is filled with the scent of Patrick, sandalwood, and mint. It overwhelms all my senses, bringing on thoughts I shouldn’t be having about my boss. Wiggling my hand from his, I step away from him and tell him more facts about the resort and town. When the elevator stops on the eighth floor, I rush out of the car to put some space between us.
Patrick nods his approval as we enter the suite. The suite has a kitchenette, living room, two bedrooms, and two full bathrooms with rain showers, and Jacuzzi tubs. “Very nice,” Patrick remarks as he jots more notes on his phone. “You know this one might be worth saving.”
“Well, if my opinion matters at all, we have worked hard to make this the best Resort Inn.”
“Your opinion is one of the few that does matter,” Patrick says before walking further into the suite. What the hell does that mean?
“The cottages are next?” Patrick asks.
“Yes,” I answer leading him outside the main resort across the front yard to the cottages. We have twenty cottages on the property that are booked a month at a time. Each cottage is a mini version of the resort. The cottages have a large open floor plan the living room flowing seamlessly into the dining and kitchen. Each cottage has four bedrooms that sleep up to ten people. The master bedroom with a king size bed, two rooms have two double beds, and one room has two sets of bunk beds.
“When was the last time the cottages were remodeled?”
“I think in the late nineties.”
“It shows,” he says wrinkling his nose.
“The remodel is planned for this winter. The cottages generate too much income to have them down during the summer and fall,” I explain. Patrick nods his response.
Leaving the cottages, I take Patrick to the reason people shell out an exorbitant amount of money to stay here, the view. “This,” I say, swinging my hands out “is why people come to visit us. We have the most beautiful view of the Atlantic Ocean and a picturesque Mountain View.” I say, turning and pointing to the mountain behind us. “Not only can our guests sit on the private beach and enjoy the view they can also climb the mountain.”
“I have to say it is one hell of a view,” Patrick admits.
Walking into the lobby, Patrick asks, “What tours do we offer?” Pointing to some brochures, I explain we do not offer tours but have partnered with local businesses on the island for tours. “Okay, I want you to book us some tours. I want to ensure they meet my standards.”
“I can do that. Any date or time that will work best?”
“No, just let me know, and I’ll work my schedule around it.”
“I’ll email you the details for the personal trainer, kickboxing, and the tours. Anything else, Patrick?”
“No that will be all. Thank you for today Lena.”
“You’re welcome.”
I return to my office and knock lightly before opening the door, but it looks as if he is done for the day. Logging into my computer, I book the personal trainer for tomorrow and kickboxing for two days later. Then I call our partners for whale watching, canoe tour, a hiking tour of the national park, and a bird watching tour.
It will be a packed week. Tomorrow we have the personal trainer followed by whale watching. The next day is a canoe tour around the island. Then we have a hike in the National Park; end the week with kickboxing and bird watching. If Patrick wants to experience everything before determining if he closes our doors I’ll show him everything we offer. I email Patrick our schedule for the week,
To: Patrick Love
From: Lena Miller
Good Evening Patrick,
Here is our schedule for the week.
Tuesday: 6:00 a.m. Personal training, fitness center
8:00 a.m. whale watching, main docks
Wednesday: 9:00 a.m. Canoe tour, Resort Inn beach
Thursday: 10:00 a.m. hiking in the National Park, Acadia National Park main gate
Friday: 6:00 a.m. Kickboxing class, fitness center
8:00 a.m. bird watching tour
Have a good night. See you tomorrow.
Lena Miller
Acting Resort Inn Manager
Once the email shows sent, I log off the computer, pull my purse from its hiding place, change my heels to flats then lock the door behind me. I’m walking across the parking lot when Patrick stops me thanking me again for today. I tell him it was no trouble. Patrick asks if I’m going home for the night. I explain I’m walking to a friend’s house.
“Walking? It is the height of tourists season, and there are people here you don’t know.”
“It’s fine Patrick I walk to and from work every day in the summer.”
“No, I won’t allow it; I’m giving you a ride. Get in,” Patrick says pointing to a small silver car. When I don’t move, he opens the passenger door. I roll my eyes because I can see I will not win this fight and just go with it.
When we pull up outside Martin’s pale yellow cottage, I thank Patrick for the ride and reminded him about our meeting with the trainer at six thirty then tell him goodnight b
efore going inside to check on Martin.
Martin is buzzing with excitement for tomorrow. His son is coming for their yearly fishing trip. Martin and his son, Mike had been estranged for years. But five years ago Mike offered an olive branch. Martin took it now they go on a yearly week-long fishing trip. “Mike will be here in the morning then we’re leaving the next day. I can’t wait.”
I laugh because he is as giddy as a schoolboy, “I can tell. How is Mike doing?”
“He’s good, still hasn’t found a good girl yet. But I’m still hoping.”
“I’m sure he’ll find someone.”
“I hope so. What about you, any men in your life?” Martin asks.
“No, but I’m focusing on my career right now.”
“Well, you’re still young and working through your grief. But don’t worry he’s out there just waiting for you.”
“Thanks, Martin.”
“How is work going?”
“It’s stressful right now with the new owner. Right now everyone is on eggshells worrying he’ll cut his losses and shut us down,” I explain.
“The new owner is the Kindred Corporation?”
“Yeah.”
“Be very careful, I don’t trust them. I haven’t found anything, but the corporation is too clean, too perfect.”
“I will be,” I placate him before standing, kissing him on the head and telling him to have a good night.
“You’re leaving already?”
“Yeah, my new boss has me trying out the resort’s services with him. So I have to go in early. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye Lena and be careful and remember nothing is as it seems.”
With his warning I walk home, take a long hot shower and fall asleep.