Page 28 of Silver Spoon Falls, Vol. I

NINETEEN

FRANCESCA

“Good morning. Thank you for calling the Silver Spoon Falls Inn. This is Francesca. How may I help you?” I rush out while sliding my purse under the counter.

I hope whoever’s calling doesn’t notice the phony cheer infusing my voice.

After sleeping through my alarm clock, I spilled my cup of coffee down the front of my work uniform while trying to rush out the door.

The domino effect of my bad luck didn’t stop there.

Zippy, my ornery car, refused to start, and my roommate had already left for work.

Finding an Uber in this small town is next to impossible so I hoofed it.

After a brisk two-mile walk, I’m a tiny bit sweaty and a whole lot testy.

“I wouldn’t have to waste my valuable time calling if your website allowed reservations.” His condescending tone rubs me the wrong way. Lucky me! On the morning from hell, I get to deal with the jerk of the century. Woot woot.

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, but we don’t have the ability to take online reservations at this time.

” Douche canoe. “I’m sure management will keep you in mind the next time they update policies.

” Frustration causes my big mouth to run away without consulting my brain.

I have no say over the small-town, family-owned hotel’s old-fashioned policies, yet I get to listen to continuous complaints from annoyed customers.

The vision of my badly needed paycheck flying right out the window causes me to change direction and offer sweetly, “I’d be happy to help you with your reservations. ”

“I need to book a secure room and, therefore, I require a discreet, secure registration.” This jerk. My back stiffens at his condescending tone, and I barely resist the urge to tell him where to go. He acts like I’m going to advertise his information on the street.

"We can arrange a secure room for you.” Under my breath, I add it’s called a door lock, your royal pain in my ass .

Hell will freeze over before I kiss this jerk’s feet.

“But I will have to make the reservation by phone since that’s this hotel’s procedure.

” Before I’m able to control my unruly tongue, “I’ll try not to leave your credit card number laying out where anyone can find it,” slips out. Oops.

“Are you trying to push my buttons?” His voice turns warm and syrupy, melting something deep in my soul. “I might have to punish you for that attitude.” My mushy mind almost misses him suddenly changing course. “I need a room from the seventeenth through the twenty-ninth.”

I let the punish you comment slide and get back to my job. “Let me check to see if those dates are available.” I place him on hold, needing a few seconds of peace to fan and collect myself. I’m pretty sure tomato-red isn’t a good look for me.

Please, God, give me a miracle and let the hotel be full on those dates.

I need this job, and I have no idea how I’ll keep my dislike from showing on my face if I have to deal with this jerk in person.

Of course, my luck sucks. The hotel is practically booked on those dates, but the most expensive room in town is available.

Fudge-muffin. Taking a deep breath, I press the blinking orange light and reconnect the call.

“We have the presidential suite available on those dates.” I add a hefty dose of sweetness to my voice and quote him the outrageous room rate, hoping it will scare off the big jerk.

“It encompasses the entire third floor and has the highest security in the hotel.” And costs more per night than I pay for a whole month’s rent.

“If you need to be ostentatious and pompous, it’s the room for you.

” I really didn’t mean to blurt that last part out.

If I don’t reel in my mouth, I’m going to be living in a cardboard box behind the hotel.

“I’ll take the ostentatious and pompous room for those dates.” He doesn’t even pause. “I can’t wait to meet you, sunshine. We can discuss your phone etiquette.”

Why does that sound like a warning? And why does his gruff voice send little sparks of electricity shooting up my spine?

Maybe it’s time for me to seek therapy. What in the world is my virgin hussy side thinking?

Lusting after the jerk who’s giving me a hard time is a new low.

Working full-time while attending college in the evenings must be frying my circuits.

That’s the only explanation for the crazy emotions zinging through me.

“Sunshine?” I can’t help myself from asking. This whole conversation is nuts.

“Because your sunny attitude lightens up my day.” Now, I’m sure he’s screwing with me.

Stiffening my spine, I ignore the taunt while putting on my confident professional facade. “I’ll need to get some information from you.” I rattle off my usual booking spiel while giving myself a pat on the back for somewhat pulling it off.

“I’m sure this is an inconvenience for you, too.

” This jerk. “If your hotel was up with the times, I’d be able to book this online.

” I roll my eyes when he beats that dead horse.

“And I wouldn’t have to give my personal information over the phone.

” No shit, Sherlock sits on the tip of my tongue, but I manage to swallow the snarky retort, reminding myself how much I need this job.

“You know what, this is above my paygrade,” I snap, totally over dealing with this jerk.

“I’ll transfer you to my manager and you can take it up with him.

” Before the jerk has time to respond, I click hold and then type in Mr. Hollen’s extension.

Let the hotel manager deal with Mr. I Need to Learn Freaking Manners while I get my hussy side under control.

As my blood pressure returns to normal, a thought hits me right between the eyes.

I just transferred the big jerk to my boss. This day really couldn’t get any worse.

Famous last words. Mr. Hollen walks out of his office a few minutes later. “Francesca, I need you to finalize a reservation for me.” The absence of steam pouring from his ears gives me hope. Maybe the big jerk decided not to tell my boss about my earlier behavior.

“Of course.” I smile while fighting the urge to run before I have to deal with Mr. High and Mighty again.

“Mr. Montgomery wants to book the presidential suite.” My boss practically skips around the lobby celebrating.

Silver Spoon Falls, Texas might be full of millionaires, but very few of them stay with us.

I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve ever seen the most expensive room in the hotel booked.

“Make sure you butter him up.” My boss walks away humming under his breath, and I take a deep breath to calm my nerves before reaching for the phone.

“Mr. Montgomery.” At least I know his name. “I’ll take your information and get your stay booked.” My back teeth snap together in an effort to hold back the snark crawling up my throat.

“But you’re not happy about it.” At least he’s astute.

“I’m just here to cheerfully assist our customers with their stay at the Silver Spoon Falls Inn,” I rattle off the hotel employees’ mission statement. “Now, I need your full name, address, and credit card number.”

“And you promise not to leave it lying around?” Shoot. He isn’t going to let me forget my early snafu.

“That’s right.” I’m going to grind my teeth to stumps by the time I finish this call.

“I will take the utmost care with your precious information. I mean, we can’t have your top-secret, ultra-important information getting in the wrong hands.

Who knows what world catastrophe will happen?

” Dead silence follows my word vomit, and I close my eyes, praying for the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

“That’s three.” His ominous declaration should terrify me, but I’m pretty sure my damp panties tell a different story.

“Three?” Curiosity killed the cat runs through my mind on a continuous loop.

“Three full-blown, over my knee, bare ass spankings I owe you for your sasshole attitude.”

Well, the freaking jerk finally managed to do what few can. He left me speechless.

I somehow manage to get his information and complete the reservation without any more outbursts. Luck is on my side, and the jerk doesn’t bait me anymore. After hanging up, I glance at the desk calendar and groan. Two weeks until I meet Mr. Montgomery in person.

Who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky and catch some hideous illness so I can miss work.

Feeling out of sorts, I spend the rest of my shift trying unsuccessfully to forget about the big jerk.

My luck improves a little after work when I manage to get an Uber to school.

The universe isn’t done with me, and the next four hours go from bad to worse.

On the day my distracted mind makes paying attention impossible, Professor Bailey decides to drop the assignment from hell on us.

This should be right up my alley, but I’m not myself.

And I’m really scared this is a permanent affliction after my run-in with the big jerk.

“How was class?” Amelia asks as I walk through our apartment door. The small two-bedroom apartment isn’t much, but it’s all we need.

As usual, my roommate is sitting at our small dinette studying before her late shift at the hotel. Worry flashes through her golden eyes, reminding me that I can’t hide anything from my best friend.

We met in nursery school when our single mothers became close friends.

To make life a little easier for both of them, our mothers pooled their resources and moved our two families in together.

They worked opposite shifts so we could have at least one parent at home at all times.

For the last eighteen years, we’ve been connected at the hip.

Two peas in a pod but totally the opposite in appearance.

I’m short, curvy, and blonde with plain blue eyes, while my gorgeous bestie is tall and curvy with chestnut hair and amazing caramel-colored eyes.

On a high school field trip to the police station, I found my true passion: crime.

Actually, solving crimes. That day, I made up my mind to pursue a degree in Computer Forensics while my bestie decided to study Forensic Psychology.

Since the Silver Spoon Falls Community College is known for its superior forensics department and its extremely reasonable tuition, we threw caution to the wind and packed our bags.

“Class was fine, but the rest of the day sucked.” I drop my bag next to the breakfast bar and reach for an apple.

“Zippy gave up the ghost this morning, and I was ten minutes late for work.” I leave out the part where I dealt with the biggest jerk in the world.

“Then professor Bailey announced a special assignment.” I make quote marks with my fingers.

“To improve our understanding of finding obscure data hidden in plain sight, we have to examine his computer and find the suspect file.” The day from hell just kept giving today.

“Whoever finds it first gets to skip the final.” Hello, universe.

I could use a break here. Please let me be the one who comes up with the file first.

“I’m not surprised.” Amelia glances up and shrugs. “Naming your twenty-six-year-old on-its-last leg car Zippy is like naming a dog Lucky. You’re just asking for karma to bite you in the rear end.”

“Thanks for your love and support,” I grumble half-heartedly. “That’s just what I need to end my utterly sucky day.”

My bestie walks over and wraps her arm around my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. “You know I’m just teasing.” She points at the sofa. “Sit down and tell me about it.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” I grumble.

“Come on, it can't be that bad.” Amelia hops up and heads to the kitchen to pour us each a glass of my favorite wine. After she hands me the glass, I drink it down in one gulp before blurting out the entire story.

“Oh. That’s not good.” She grabs the bottle of wine and pours me another glass. “You might be in trouble.”

No damn duh. I’m in a lot of trouble. Somewhere out there is a big jerk dying to spank my poor rear end, and a crazy little part of me is looking forward to it. I do need help. Lots and lots of help. And wine.