Not Husband Material (Billionaire's Contract Duet 1)

Still, I gave Robbins a reassuring nod and tipped him. “Thank you, Robbins. I’ll be in touch when I need you again.”

“Have a pleasant stay, sir.” He gave me a tip of his hat, casting one last uncertain look around the lobby before making his way back out to the car. I rewarded service workers like Robbins well for their high standards of service, and I wondered how long it would take me to get this place into that kind of shape.

“Um…” The receptionist’s voice made me turn my attention back to her. “I have a Chase Highthorne here, could that be you?”

My eyebrow couldn’t go any higher.

When it dawned on her why I was giving her a flat stare, her cheeks went a little pink, and she brushed a strand of hair away from her face as she scribbled something down. “Right, Mr. Hawthorne, I have you down here for the Royal Mile Presidential Suite and our VIP package, does that sound right?”

“I believe it does.”

She gave an embarrassed smile, then took out a little envelope. My eyes widened in disbelief as she handed me the envelope and I realized it contained not cardkeys, but two old-fashioned metal keys.

You have got to be kidding me.

“Adam will see you to your room. Thanks for staying with us, and please, don’t hesitate to give me a call if anything is out of order.” The words had a rehearsed tone to them, but more than anything, she just sounded relieved to have me out of her hair, despite her sweet smile and cheerful face.

“Thanks, Cat, I will,” I assured her with a nod after glancing at her nametag. She seemed to perk up a little, then look anxious at my last two words. I turned and followed the bellhop down the hallway.

After grimacing at some obvious scratches in the wooden floors, I looked up and noticed we were heading past the elevator doors.

Adam, the bellhop, seemed to notice my concern and gave me a nervous smile.

“I’m afraid the elevators are getting a little work done on them right now.”

“Ah,” I remarked curtly. “I’m guessing they’ll be fixed around the same time as the computers?”

His awkward, embarrassed silence gave me my answer. When we got to the stairs, though, he added, “There are some wonderful views from the windows every other flight.”

I personally didn’t mind the long march up the stairs. I kept my body in peak physical condition at all times, so by the time we were halfway up and the bellhop was nearly out of breath, I had hardly increased my heart rate.

I couldn’t help but notice the dilapidated decor and dated art hanging from the walls. Staircases were one of those parts of a resort that were so easy to neglect, and so far, Peppertree had done little to impress in that regard.

We finally made it to the top floor, and I followed the bellhop down the broad hallway of what looked like entrances to other presidential suites.

“Yours is at the end here,” Adam explained with a gesture to the far end of the hallway, “best suite available.”

“I know,” I pointed out simply.

I approached the door when the bellhop came to a stop beside it, and I put the key in the door. As I turned it, there was a click, followed by an ominous thunking sound. When I pulled the key out of the door, the rest of the door handle came with it, to the bellhop’s horror.

With a stony face, I simply held the door handle out to him. “I believe you’ll want this.”

“I...I’ll have a maintenance worker up immediately, sir,” he assured me, his face pale.

He ran off with the handle before I could tip him, leaving me with the bags. He hadn’t even thought to bring them inside. I rubbed my temples.

This place was a fixer-upper, to put it politely.

I pushed the door open, hoping to find something redeeming inside. What I was faced with was overwhelmingly average.

There was something to be said for the state of the wooden floors, and some of the art on the walls was tasteful. The view of the snow-covered mountains that greeted me on the far end of the room was the main saving grace. But everything else about the room, from the high ceiling that clearly hadn’t been dusted in ages to the awful choice in bedsheets left a lot to be desired.

It felt like I was staying with a relative with bad taste. Too much like someone’s home and not enough charm to make up for it.

If this were anywhere else, I’d just pass on the place and build a competing resort nearby to run it out of business. But this place in particular had something to it. Besides its historic value, the location was impeccable.

I strode over to the window and surveyed the pearly-white landscape outside, feeling a sense of calm wash over me.