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Charlie, my new supervisor, no doubt strong but with a thick layer of cushion to disguise muscle, frowns up at me from behind his desk in the maintenance office. “You sure you want to put up with him all day? It’s already bad enough that you have to live with him.”
I chuckle. “I’ll survive.”
“All right. You two are stuck with each other, then. You’re on trash today.” His slate-blue eyes roll over my stubbled jaw. “Is this the beginning of a new look, or were you two out too late last night to shave?”
Fuck.Not fifteen minutes in and I’m already getting grilled. “Which answer do you want?”
He smirks. “The one that means I don’t have to cite you for breaking the conduct code. I’ll give you a pass today because you just came in from the Midwest and they’re lax up there. But make sure you come in clean-shaven next week. Besides, the hipster thing wouldn’t suit you.”
“Yes, sir.”
We’re almost out the door when Charlie hollers, “And trash duty on the beach does not take four hours, fellas.”
Connor offers an innocent look that’s as fake as a three-dollar bill. “Never, boss. Two hours, tops.”
“Uh-huh.” Charlie buries his nose in his paperwork again, not buying the act for a second, but not reprimanding us further. I get the impression Connor is one of those guys who gets away with a lot of things he shouldn’t get away with.
I’m not one of those guys. “Okay. So, where do we start? Parking lot? Kitchen?” If this place is anything like the Wolf back in Indianapolis, management is extra vigilant about keeping those areas clear of rodent-attracting debris.
Connor checks his watch. “If we hurry, we’ll catch the last half of the women’s volleyball practice on the beach.” He sighs. “And let me tell you, it’s a beautiful sight.”
“This isn’t gonna take long, isit?” Connor grumbles. Our heavy footfalls echo along the corridor in the employee-only area. The Wolf hotel chain may be ritzy, but they’ve saved their building budget for the parts that guests see. It’s beige walls and dim lights here.
“I don’t know. She said she needs a signature. Shouldn’t be more than a minute.” I got a message from an admin this morning, asking me to come in and sign some payroll papers that got messed up in my transfer. I’m not shocked. The guy who handled my move isn’t playing with a full deck.
“A minute, my ass. Do you know how slow they work in here?”
“You really are a whiny bitch when you’re hungry.”
“Warned you, didn’t I?” Connor pushes through the glass door markedEmployee Administrationand into an office as plain as a hospital waiting room—windowless and beige, the kind of place that makes me only too happy to be picking uptrash out under the hot Florida sun. I’d hang myself if I had to sit in here all day.
“Look, if I don’t do this, I don’t get paid, and if I don’t get paid, you’re not gettin’ rent money. So shut the fuck up.” It hasn’t taken long for Connor and me to get into a groove. We already sound like we’ve known each other for years instead of less than twenty-four hours.
Connor walks up to the counter that runs the full length of the room, keeping Wolf’s various “white collar” office admin staff (payroll, finance, customer service) and the “blue collars” (housekeeping, kitchen scullery, maintenance crew) separated. He slaps the little bell.
And we wait, listening to the medley of fingertips tapping on keys, phones ringing, a low buzz of voices, an occasional cough.
Not one head pops up from a cubicle.
“Told you. An hour.” He hits the bell again, this time twice and harder. “And fix your laces while you’re at it. Doesn’t that drive you nuts?”
I glance down to see that one of my laces is indeed undone and dragging. “Actually, I didn’t notice.” As I’m crouching to retie it, Connor bellows, loud enough to carry through the entire office, “Yo, Tatum! Can you help us out so we can go eat? You know how I get when I’m hungry!”
Fucking guy is going to get us both in shit, hollering like that.
“Would you be quiet? People are taking reservations in here!” a female whisper-hisses.
I stand to find a brunette on the other side of the counter. She’s wearing the standard-issue Wolf admin staff uniform, and my attention can’t help but veer downward to where the white blouse stretches across her tits.
When I lift my eyes again, I find her scowling at me.
It takes me a good five seconds before I realize that I recognize thatscowl. “Oh, shit.”
“I told you Ryan works here, didn’t I?” Connor’s grin says he damn well knows he didn’t mention that and he’s enjoying every second of this. “She’s the coordinator for the housekeeping division.”
Ryan is no longer sweaty and disheveled. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and her rich hazel eyes are hiding behind a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. No makeup touches her creamy skin, from what I can tell.
“What do you want?” she snaps, but I don’t miss the blush crawling up her cheeks.