Page 6 of Maneater (The Mavens #1)

“You’re supposed to be on vacation next week,” she says. I almost forgot that she had forced me to agree to taking the week off next week, stating that she was worried I would burn myself out if I didn’t slow down. That won’t be happening any longer.

“Vacations can wait.”

There’s a long pause and another sigh before she speaks, and before she even does, I know what she’s going to say.

“Rowan, we need to talk about your incessant working.”

I roll my eyes as I watch the numbers on the elevator rise, impatiently waiting for it to ding at the top floor.

“Yeah, maybe after we figure out who is sabotaging my resort.”

“Rowan—”

“How the fuck am I supposed to take a relaxing vacation knowing all of this is happening?” Silence fills the line, and I know I’ve won.

“I worry,” she says. “You’re going to burn yourself out. You’re the future of this place, but not if you don’t pace yourself.”

I started working at Daydream Resorts as Annette’s intern twelve years ago, and she’s told me more than a few times that she sees me taking over as CEO when she retires one day.

It’s part of the reason why I’ve worked myself to the bone, becoming the company’s youngest VP of Operations as of six months ago.

“I promise that after the next opening and after this shitstorm is settled, I’ll take a vacation. A full week,” I say in concession .

“Three,” she says instantly, making me feel like she’s been waiting to pounce on this.

“You’re insane.” I laugh at the absurd idea.

“Two, and I remove you from all servers for that time so you can’t work even if you try.”

I contemplate that, knowing that I could still get my assistant to be my go-between to get things done. She doesn’t have to know I’m thinking that, so instead of arguing when I have much more important things to do, I nod, then verbally agree.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Why do I feel like you already have some loophole planned?” Annette asks with a groan.

“Because you trained me well. I’ll call you when I get to Florida.” I hang up before she can argue. As I step off the elevator and into my home, I make my next call, knowing that my assistant is well paid to answer at nearly any time of day.

“Hey, asshole,” she says upon answering my call. I’ve threatened to fire Sutton Donovan more times than I can count, but we both know I couldn’t function without her, snarkiness aside.

Middle child syndrome , she told me once, when I asked her why she was such a brat to me and sweet as pie to others. I have an older brother and an older sister, both of whom are control freaks, and a younger sister who is utter chaos. I’m somewhere in the middle.

For a completely unhinged moment, I think about how she and Josie would get along before I shake the thought away, needing to focus. I can think about the gorgeous brunette once this mess is fixed.

Normally, I’d reply with something just as rude because that’s what my assistant and I do, but instead, I get right to my point. “I need to get on the next flight to Florida.”

Sutton sobers up quickly, reading the seriousness in my words. “The Keys resort? What happened?”

A keyboard clacks in the background, and I know she’s already on it.

“Allergic reaction,” I say, throwing another pair of pants into my suitcase.

“Allergic reaction? I don’t know if that sounds like an urgent issue or even the resort’s fault. I mean?—”

“Someone poured almond oil into the mud bath.” Silence fills the line. “And three hours ago, someone lit the rental shack on fire, burned it to the ground. They’ve got it out now, but the cameras conveniently went down five minutes before and after, so we’re shit out of luck on leads.”

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Is everyone okay?”

“No injuries from the fire, and the allergic reaction was sent to the hospital, but they should be fine. However, there have been missed deliveries and lost stock over the last few weeks, as well as double bookings and cancellations for services at the spa that were attributed to miscommunications or oversights. Now I’m wondering if it was something else. ”

“So you think someone is doing this on purpose?”

“I don’t know. But I do know that Gene Michaels is at the resort right now with his new girlfriend after that messy divorce and?—”

“And if information about another one of his clients at a Daydream Resort is leaked without his permission, Leo is going to lose his mind,” Sutton fills in correctly. I sigh and nod, even though she can’t see it.

Sutton knows precisely how that could go, since a good chunk of our celebrity clientele are clients of Leo Sinclair.

Sometimes he asks us to leak information intentionally, but the celebrity publicist usually trusts us with his top-tier celebrity’s privacy.

And up until last year, we’ve had a great record of ensuring just that.

Unfortunately, nine months ago, the first of four leaks to tabloids occurred, each at a different resort, and we have been unable to determine the source.

All I need right now is another fucking leak on top of the mess we already have.

“Exactly. With everything else going on, I need to be on the ground. I need to get to the bottom of whatever’s happening. Can you find me a flight there as soon as possible ?

“Oooh, undercover mission. I like it,” she says, continuing to click and type.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” I grumble as I start tossing things haphazardly into a suitcase. “Everyone knows who I am, so I can’t exactly go under cover at my own resort.”

“Boring,” Sutton grumbles, then my phone against my ear pings with a new message. “Okay, got it. You gotta be at Newark in two and a half hours. That doable?”

“Perfect. Thanks, Sutton,” I say, pulling three shirts from my closet and putting them into my suitcase, followed by a dozen ties. I’m not sure how long I’ll be there, so I might as well pack a good amount.

“You couldn’t function without me, I know, I know. I’ll add it to my file for my next performance review.”

“You’ve never had a performance review, Sutton. You always fill out the form for me and file a raise for yourself.”

“Exactly. I need to keep my notes up to date.”

For the first time since my phone rang, I let out a laugh.

Sutton hums. “When you get a second, send me the details on what exactly you’ve got on this leak, and I’ll try to see if I can find any overlap.”

“You’re a godsend,” I say, then hang up and finish packing.