ept her gaze on the American flag standing in the corner of the room, though out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tyler’s clothing and was surprised. She had expected a business suit. Instead he had on a pair of jeans and a sport shirt. The soft yellow color contrasted with his darkly tanned features and the shirt revealed the hard muscles that she was coming to know all too well. She swallowed around the lump in her throat and kept her eyes resolutely on the flag.
“Good morning,” he said with the enthusiasm of a judge saying, “You’ve been found guilty.” He was answered by a chorus of cautious replies.
“We have a problem,” he said as he slapped a thick folder of papers on the polished surface of the table. No one moved. “Serendipity is making me too much money.”
Twelve pairs of eyes swept the length of the table. Disbelief was registered on each face. When each had confirmed that he hadn’t heard incorrectly, all heads turned back to the man at the head of the table. He was smiling. The nervous laughter of relief rippled through the room.
“Thanks to all of you, Serendipity has done well this past season. I’ve made a hefty profit, which the IRS is ready to pounce on unless I turn it back into the company. I’m looking for ways to spend money,” he said, tossing the pencil he had been playing with onto the table and leaning back in his chair. “Get creative.”
“Do you mean ways to spend it in addition to the new rides we discussed, Mr. Scott?” the Director of Operations asked him timidly.
“You’re off the hook, Davis,” Tyler said, smiling. “For the benefit of you others I’ll announce the purchase of three new rides from a German company. They’ll be installed and ready to go by the opening of our next season. Davis and I have already taken care of that. Harrison,” he turned toward the Director of Grounds Maintenance, “we expect the rides to be delivered in January. As soon as they’re set up, you’ll landscape them. Check out the sites now, go over the plans for their layout, then start charting your landscaping. Order whatever you want. Be extravagant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And in the meantime, embellish existing landscaping wherever you see fit.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, let’s hear from some of you others.”
The Director of Personnel, whose sense of humor was well known, said, “We could all stand a raise.”
Everyone laughed, including Tyler. “You’ve got it. Fifteen percent, retroactive from the first of the season.” The audible gasp around the table was followed by spontaneous applause. Tyler managed to look humble. To the Director of Personnel, he said, “And raise the minimum wage, too. We want only the most able kids running our park. I’m willing to pay more to get them. Screen them carefully when you begin hiring next year.”
“Yes, sir.”
To Hailey’s vast relief, Tyler had studiously ignored her since opening the discussion. Now she came under the piercing scrutiny of his gray eyes. “We haven’t heard from you, Miss Ashton. Any ideas?”
She wasn’t about to cower under his incisive tone. She was ready for him. “Yes, Mr. Scott. I do have an idea.” He indicated with a wave of his hand that she was to continue. “From all the surveys my department takes, from every questionnaire it gets back, the main complaint concerns the long waiting lines for the most popular attractions.”
“We can’t help the waiting lines. It stands to reason that the better the attraction, the longer the line.”
“No, we can’t eliminate the lines, but we could alleviate the boredom.” She had everyone’s attention. “I suggest having a live band—country perhaps, or Dixieland—which would go from ride to ride entertaining the people standing in line. I’m talking about ten or twelve costumed musicians who could ride on a small wagon or even walk through the park. I’ve also thought that a clever magician could work the crowds, or maybe a fortune-teller. Someone who could easily banter with the public and hold their attention away from their long wait for the ride.”
“Where does one find such traveling troubadours these days?” Tyler asked. He propped his elbows on the table as he leveled his eyes on her. Was he thinking about her desertion last night?
“You have a live show department. I would think the band, magician, etc., would fall under its auspices.”
The director of that department shifted uncomfortably in his chair as all eyes in the room, including Tyler’s, swung to him. “What about it, Newell? Do you think you can get such acts together?”
“Yes, sir. I think it’s a good idea.”
“Consult with Miss Ashton before doing anything. I want her to be involved on the project.”
And so it went for the next half hour. Every department—Wardrobe, General Maintenance, Advertising and Public Relations, Food and Beverage, Gifts and Souvenirs—was pressured for ways to improve, enlarge, and enhance.
Just before concluding the meeting, Tyler said, “Let’s go out with a bang. As you can see, I’m here to work.” He indicated his casual clothes. “I intend to go over every inch of the park before we close for the season. This last week of operation will be busy, especially this weekend. I want each of Serendipity’s guests to have a good time. Thank you for a successful season.”
Hailey was hoping to slip out of the conference room without attracting notice, but she was halted at the door. “Miss Ashton, I’d like to see you for a moment. Excuse me,” Tyler said, shouldering through the others on their way out. He clasped the upper part of her arm and ushered her through the door. “I’ll walk with you to the Guest Relations Office and we can talk on the way,” he said for the benefit of the others.
It was a half hour before opening and the only foot traffic on the paved walkways was an occasional employee scurrying to his post. The pavement was still wet from the overnight washing it had gotten from the maintenance men. The glory of the summer flowers in the well-tended beds was waning, but the chrysanthemums were brilliant in their shades of copper and gold.
Hailey was stonily silent as she marched at Tyler’s side, matching his long stride. She didn’t want to think about how well his tight-fitting jeans suited the hard length of his legs. Or how the morning breeze, a brisk harbinger of fall, ruffled the dark hair falling on his forehead.
“I want to check this out,” he said, taking her arm once again and leading her to the entrance of one of the attractions. It was an observation tower built to resemble a frontier stockade. It captured the flavor of historic Tennessee, but was thoroughly modernized, complete with an elevator.
“I have to get to work,” Hailey objected, pulling uselessly on her arm.