Page 6 of Never Been Witched (Starfall Point #3)

Collin kept his expression neutral. It wouldn’t do to let Robert know how much his blithe attitude irked him.

“While I agree that this office is very comfortable, it’s never been your desk.

This is not the general manager’s office.

This is the owner’s office, and my desk now, so I’m going to need you to take your feet off it.

There’s an office off the front desk area, designed specifically for your use. ”

Robert wrinkled his nose as if he didn’t agree with any of these points. “Well, I’ve always found this office much more convenient.”

Right. Collin resisted the urge to clench his jaw.

“It’s more convenient for the general manager to be located two floors away from the front desk and all its functions?

” Collin asked, setting the bag from Superior Antiques on the corner of the desk.

“Robert, when I took possession of the hotel, we discussed the change in your duties and the fact that I’m going to be running the day-to-day operations of the hotel. ”

“Well, I don’t see how things really need to change in the long term. The last ‘owner-operator’ was fairly hands off, and I think it’s best to let that continue. It’s not as if you’re going to…”

Collin decided the time for a neutral expression had ended. “It’s not as if I’m going to what?”

They both knew where that sentence was headed, because Collin had heard it from nearly every friend and colleague back on the mainland when he’d decided to move his life to Starfall Point.

It’s not as if you’re going be there long term.

With dire predictions of Collin running to the nearest major metropolitan area before the end of his first winter.

No one in his life seemed to believe he could live with the snow, the cold, the short days, the isolation, the lack of luxury brands.

Robert hitched his suit pants over the beginnings of a paunch. “Well—”

“Please stop starting all your sentences with ‘well,’” Collin said.

“Aura never had a problem with how I did things,” Robert told him, his voice flat.

Right. Collin sighed internally. Aura, who’d gotten bored once she’d hosed the entire hotel down in orange, launched a disastrous rebrand, and left everything in Robert’s control.

“That was then, this is now,” Collin shot back.

Julie Teagan, a longtime desk clerk, walked in with a poster-sized occupancy board, a practically prehistoric method of keeping track of room reservations for a given week.

Her shoulder-length amber-colored hair fell over her pale heart-shaped face as she struggled to fit the board through the door.

Collin had known Julie since they were teenagers.

She was a local, a hard worker. The last time he’d seen her, she had been a waitress at the hotel restaurant.

“Julie, good to see you,” he said, nodding politely.

Her dark-blue eyes darted between Collin and Robert, assessing. “I can come back.”

“No, please come in. I was hoping to speak to you,” Robert said.

“Actually, we were in the middle of something, Julie. Would you excuse us, please?” Collin asked.

“No, Julie, stay,” Robert insisted.

Despite the pleasant smile he was plastering to his face, Collin felt a flush of guilt, because clearly, this was the last thing Julie wanted: to be trapped between her old boss and the new boss. Collin didn’t know what Robert hoped to gain from this show of “dominance” over his employer.

“Um, with all due respect, I don’t think I need to be here for this,” Julie told Robert. “I would be happy to talk to both or either of you when you two sort this out.”

With that, Julie backed out of the office with a poise Collin couldn’t help but admire. And she took her board with her.

“Please clear all of your personal effects out of my office and use the front desk manager’s office downstairs,” Collin told Robert, making a sweeping gesture toward the door. “I’ll give you time to pack.”

Collin had hoped to extend Robert some grace, or at least allow him a little dignity, by not hovering while Robert boxed up his belongings.

But apparently, Robert had exchanged that dignity for the sake of storming after him, out of the office, down the stairs.

The sheer orange-ness of the lobby knocked Collin back a few steps, after just a few minutes’ absence.

Ten years before, Aura’s spiritual adviser had promised her the hotel would prosper if everything was done in bright oranges and yellows.

Aura combined that with a postmillennial Scandinavian motif with (of course, orange) plastic chairs that looked like unfolded paper clips.

It didn’t exactly go with the rest of the island’s cozy cottage ambience.

Collin could only be grateful that the threat of an injunction from the local historical society kept Aura from altering the large wooden front desk and the staircase.

No one touched the staircase of the Duchess. No one.

“What do you expect me to do, if you’re taking over all of my duties?” Robert demanded, following him down the stairs into the lobby.

All motion and sound seemed to stop at their descent.

Of course, the lobby was considerably more crowded than it had been just a few minutes before—with five whole guests.

The staff was also silent, immobilized by the sight of their manager having what could only be described as a temper tantrum on the stairs.

Yet another dramatic entrance was being staged on the famed Duchess staircase.

“There are other positions in the hotel suited to your talents: front desk manager, kitchen manager—hell, housekeeping supervisor,” Collin told him quietly, even as guests and employees alike strained to hear what he was saying.

“But, for all intents and purposes, yes, I will be taking over your job. Your salary will not change. That wouldn’t be fair to you. ”

Robert bellowed, “Who do you think you are, telling me that you’re just going to do my job?

Demoting me? You think you deserve this somehow, just because you have the right name?

You didn’t earn this. You’re just going to piss it all away!

All this history! All the work of all the people who came before you, the people who poured their blood and their sweat into this hotel because they loved it.

And fuck you for thinking your spoiled Manhattan ass can even begin to understand that. ”

“We’re done here,” Collin told him, walking toward the desk as calmly as he could manage. Robert had hit several nerves, but he couldn’t show it. He couldn’t flinch.

“I know all about you,” Robert barked, even as the people around them stared.

“You think you’re Teflon, but I’ve heard the stories.

And I didn’t spend thirty years kissing ass and working my fingers to the bone just to have you waltz in here like the crown prince of spoiled dipshits and take my job. ”

Even as rage welled up in his throat, demanding to be let loose on Robert, Collin had to remind himself that this wasn’t personal.

It was just business. And Robert’s shouting obscenities at Collin in a lobby occupied by his employees was disrespect Collin couldn’t allow to stand.

Collin may not have been familiar with this particular hotel, but he knew if his employees saw Robert talk to him like that and get away with it, they would think Collin was afraid.

He would lose what control he had over the place within a month.

So, Robert had to go.

“Robert, I appreciate your many years of service here at the hotel, but I’m afraid that it’s time for you to move on,” Collin told him, in a crisp, even tone.

“You will, of course, receive a generous severance package and a reference letter, if that’s what you want.

But I’m afraid you cannot continue your employment after this gross insubordination. ”

“You can’t fire me. I quit!” Robert yelled.

“All right, then, forget the generous severance,” Collin said, smiling. “Please submit your resignation in writing by the end of the day.”

Robert looked like he couldn’t decide between punching Collin or smacking him with one of the angular chrome vases that looked…sharp. Why were the vases sharp ? That had to be some sort of liability. Dammit, Aura.

Collin filed it away for future consideration.

“Fuck you, Bancroft! Fuck your whole damn family.” Robert bared his teeth and threw his hands up. He stomped off toward his actual office. Collin turned back to the lobby. Suddenly, staff and guests alike were moving again, as if a great cosmic hand had just pressed Play.

Collin approached the front desk. “Julie, can I speak to you now, please?”

“Well, at this point, I don’t think I can say no,” Julie replied.

“That’s not—you’re not ever obligated… Can we please start over?” he asked. He made a welcoming gesture toward the staircase and hoped it didn’t come across as imperious.

Julie began, “Again, I don’t know if—”

“You can say no,” he told her. She gave a slight eye roll, but followed him up the stairs to his office. He waved toward the leather club chair opposite his desk and took his own seat.

“How would you like to be promoted to front desk manager?” Collin asked.

She smirked, taking a seat. “Purely based on spite toward Robert?”

“Not purely ,” he assured her. “You’ve worked here full-time for eight years.

Your work history is commendable—spotless, even.

Your performance reviews are practically perfect.

You never take vacation or sick days, which I think we should change right away because that’s not healthy.

In fact, Robert was stupid enough to leave several proposals you’d written for policy changes and new programs behind in your employee file, like they are indictments of your character, when I find them to be intriguing. ”

“I always thought he just threw those away,” she muttered.