And just what on earth are you doing here?
But in truth, I knew the answer the moment I saw her. And for once in my life, I wished I was wrong about my gut instinct.
The way she carried herself around the restaurant was unmistakable, though. There was a kind of casual authority she carried with her despite the anxiety of not being experienced and showing it. She walked like she owned the place.
She walked that way because she did.
I knew I was taking this place over from a Simmons family, but the idea that it was the same Simmons as the stock Haley came from never even crossed my mind.
I knew Haley from college. She was stunning then as she was stunning now, and the years had only made her more beautiful. It was more than that, though--the confidence that leadership gave her made her all the more attractive. It was instinct that drew my eye to her, and our history held it there.
So many sweet, lustful memories flooded my mind. I knew what was under those clothes, and the image of her naked body was locked in my mind no matter how much I tried to forget it. She was impeccable. And for a while, she had been mine.
My relationship with her was the last meaningful one I’d had. Sure, I took dates to dinners and galas when it was necessary to have someone beautiful on my arm, but I just didn’t have time for anyone I could talk with for hours like Haley and I had talked.
...and it was her that I was here to wrest the resort from.
I felt my gut twist into a knot, and I frowned.
This evening had just gotten a lot more complicated than I expected.
4
Haley
“Kat. I can always tell when you’re trying to hide something. You do that weird thing with your chin,” I whispered, leaning over the front desk. Kat, my desk clerk, was trying her damnedest to keep a straight face and play dumb. She was a sweetheart and a people-pleaser, with a cheerful smile. Just the kind of person you would want to greet your guests when they came in. But she was so much of a people-pleaser that it seemed to physically pain her to have to deliver bad news. Luckily, she was also extremely easy to read. Her chin was just slightly trembling as she struggled to keep her mouth shut. I knew this was awful for her, but I needed to know.
“Seriously, I won’t be mad. It’s not your fault. I know that. I just need you to tell me if that stupid buyer showed up from the bank,” I told her meaningfully, without breaking eye contact. That was an ability I picked up from watching my dad do business when I was growing up. Occasionally, he would take me to board meetings, with the promise of ice cream if I behaved and stayed quiet. As I got older, I started actually paying attention to those meetings I attended, taking notes on my father’s strategies an
d demeanor when discussing business. He was big on eye contact. He used to tell me that, “Even when someone’s mouth is telling lies, their eyes will always tell the truth. So don’t just listen to words, watch the eyes.”
And nowadays, I did just that. Granted, even the tools of the trade I picked up from Dad weren’t quite enough to keep the Peppertree from sinking, but they did come in handy. Kat, for example, was quickly crumbling under my intense stare. She looked away, biting her lip and wringing her hands. Bingo.
“Okay, okay,” she sighed. “But you’re not going to like it, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news. Like, I really hate it.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But I’m not mad at you. Just spill.”
“Fine. Well, there was a guy who came by the front desk earlier to check in. In fact, there were a few guys,” she began slowly, just barely meeting my gaze. Her face was turning pink. This really was torture for her.
“Okay. And?” I prompted her gently.
“Well, they all looked… like the kind of guy you’d expect the bank to send. You know what I mean?” she explained awkwardly. I shook my head, frowning a little.
“Uh, no. I think you’re going to have to be a little more descriptive than that,” I remarked. She heaved a sigh, her shoulders going slack as she stared up at the ceiling.
“They were all dressed nice. You know, slacks and business-y jackets. Suits and ties. And they all looked very serious. One of them didn’t even smile back at me,” she added, clearly a little offended. Despite my panic, I almost smiled. Poor Kat.
“Did they all come in together? As a group?” I asked. I was confused.
“No, no. One by one. But that’s what I’m saying-- I couldn’t tell you for sure which one of them was sent by the bank and which ones were just regular guests,” she admitted.
“Okay,” I said, crestfallen. This wasn’t making anything any easier. Then I perked up. “Oh! Which rooms did they check into?” I asked suddenly.
Kat turned around in her swivel chair to look at the keys missing from the antique hooks on the wall behind her. She pointed out three of the hooks, mumbling to herself. Then she turned back and said, “Room 16, room 12, and the Presidential suite. You know, the one next to yours.”
I could feel my cheeks going pink as my stomach turned. “My parents’ old suite,” I murmured. It was rare to find someone willing to pay for that suite these days. There were five other Presidential suites apart from mine and the one my parents used to live in, and those five were considerably cheaper, to encourage people to stay in them instead. It was bizarre that someone would choose that particular suite when the others were available. Unless the guest was another one of those tacky ghost hunter guys who was dumb enough to think he could summon my dad’s ghost by staying in his old quarters or something.
“He didn’t seem like… that type,” Kat added hastily. Obviously she sensed what I was thinking. I gave her a soft smile.