“Thank you, Mari.”
She got up from her desk finally, knowing that she owed him something, even if she didn’t know what. She picked up the key and held it out. When he reached with his hand, she pressed the key into his palm.
“Keep it. I have another somewhere.”
His fingers closed over hers slightly as he cupped the key in his hand. She tried very hard to ignore the tingles shivering up her arm at the warmth of his hand.
“You’re sure?”
Mari remembered his face as he’d walked into the attic. She’d put up walls because she’d resented the easy joy he’d had, seeing the dusty antiques. She didn’t let herself feel things like that anymore. It would be petty to deprive him of it. It was his hotel, and he was keeping his end of the bargain.
“I’m sure, Luca. And when Mr. Shiffling arrives, we’ll meet and discuss how best to approach the changes to come.”
“Then I’ll hear from you later today.”
He pulled his hand from hers and pocketed the key. He walked back to his office, and moments later she heard the door click. But she stood in the middle of her own, wondering how on earth she was going to handle the rollercoaster that was rapidly becoming her life.
Luca Fiori got to her. In every way.
Chapter 4
“I thought we were storing the furniture in the Green Conference room, and the rest in the storage area off the south corridor.”
Mari looked up, knowing she looked harried because she was. Yesterday she’d received another letter. She’d hardly slept last night thinking about what it said. Hating how the past still had this hold over her.
This was the second time Luca had interfered with clearing out the lounge. He stood beside her, not a bead of sweat or hair out of place or a wrinkle in his trousers or his chocolate brown shirt, calmly issuing edicts.
“You said the other conference room. The Mount Baker.” She knew it was hard for Luca to remember, but all the rooms were named after peaks in the Rockies, and she was determined to use the proper names, not identify them by color.
“The Mount Baker is being used for meetings.”
“When did that happen?”
“When I scheduled them.”
She took deep breaths to hold on to her temper. Everything was in flux and it was starting to get to her. Now he was changing his mind and she was just supposed to go with it.
“You scheduled them? Why not use another room?”
“Because the company I hired to renovate our spa wanted a room where they could use a projector.”
Her head spun. A spa? They’d have to discuss that one, but not now. Now she had a dozen employees moving furniture and putting it in the wrong place.
“Luca, do you think you could get out of my hair long enough to let me do my job?”
“Certainly. I have calls to make.”
Cool as a cucumber. Mari scowled after him. Luca was infuriating. Nothing seemed to faze him, and she could hardly keep her balance.
She put her hands on her hips and took a moment to redirect the staff—again—that was emptying the Athabasca Lounge of furniture. Once they were back on track, she sighed and pushed her hair out of her face. Her twist had long since been in tatters and she’d resorted to anchoring it with an elastic, except pieces kept escaping and getting in her way.
The more she knew of Luca, the more she didn’t quite know what to make of him. Her playboy image of him had been reshaped and a new version in its place. Oh, the charm was still very present, hard as she tried to ignore it. But she was coming to discover that he was used to getting his own way. Only a week after his arrival and already things were changing, shifting, strange workmen appeared from out of nowhere, and she was signing for deliveries. He’d definitely taken charge. She certainly couldn’t say he was lackadaisical about the job. He seemed completely committed to The Cascade.
And he’d definitely taken to ordering her around. This morning was just another in a long line of commands he’d issued. She caught sight of him now, talking to a man in dark green trousers and a lighter green shirt. A laborer of some sort by his uniform. Luca’s arms were spread wide and his eyes danced as he spoke to the man.
She had to admit things were never dull anymore. Every day there was a new discovery to be made. Adjustments to be made. The lack of routine threw her off her stride. And when he went at something, he did it all the way. That included making her chafe at the bit at being ordered around when she was, in fact, the manager of the hotel.
Yet all it had taken was one bit of information to make her feel like a complete fraud. To make her return to being the scared little girl she’d been for so long. That stupid letter.