“Spencer and I are only six months apart. He’s a year younger in school, so people don’t realize that. My upstanding father had both his wife and his mistress pregnant at the same time.”
He shook his head. “I never liked your father. Even when we were kids, he struck me as shady. Your grandfather, on the other hand, always seems like a decent guy.”
I sighed. “Yeah. Grandpa Sterling is really special. I don’t see him often enough now that he moved down to Florida. After my dad left my mom, he really stepped up for us. He never missed a school recital or a tennis match. A few afternoons a week, I used to follow him around one of his hotels after school. Even back then, I saw the difference between how my grandfather and my father treated staff and how staff treated them. Grandpa Sterling’s employees revered him, much like Grace Copeland’s staff seems to have loved her. Whereas the staff feared my father more than respected him.”
“I guess every family has its black sheep.”
I nodded. “They sure do.” Realizing I’d shared a lot more about my screwed-up family than he had, I asked, “Who’s your family’s black sheep?”
Weston shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down. “Me.”
I almost laughed. “You? You’re the prince of the Lockwood family.”
Weston rubbed the stubble on his cheek. “You want to know a Lockwood secret?”
I smiled. “Absolutely.”
“I was never the prince of the Lockwood family. They only had me for spare parts.”
My smile faded. “What do you mean?”
Weston shook his head. “Nothing. Forget it.” He paused and then tilted his head toward the door. “I’m going to check on something in the office before I call it a night. I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Umm… Yeah. Sure. Have a good night.”
Chapter 9
* * *
Sophia
The next morning was busy. Weston and I brought the two contractors through the construction site together, and then I headed down to where our legal and accounting team were set up in a conference room. The smile on my face as I opened the door wilted almost immediately upon entry. My father sat at the head of the table. I hadn’t even known he was back in town…or perhaps he’d never left.
“I thought you went back to Florida?”
My father gave me a stern look. “I’m obviously needed here.”
“Oh?” I folded my arms over my chest. “Did someone tell you that?”
I realized there was a room full of men with their heads swinging back and forth, watching the exchange between my father and me. I tilted my head toward the door. “Could we…talk outside for a minute?”
Dear old Dad looked like he really wanted to say no, but instead he let out an exasperated sigh and marched to the door.
Outside, he spoke before I had the chance to. “Sophia, you’re in over your head. You can’t run a hotel and lead a team to perform due diligence so we can make the winning bid to that shareholder.”
I shook my head. “I thought we discussed this at dinner. If I need assistance, I’ll call you.”
As usual, my father ignored me. “You should be focusing on getting information out of the Lockwoods.”
“What information?”
He sighed, as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain everything to me. “We agreed to a sealed-bid process. But it would be helpful to know what the Lockwoods will be bidding so we can best their offer without losing our shirts.”
“And how would you like me to do that?”
“That young blood who came to your defense the other day thinks you’re a damsel in distress. Use that against him.”
“What are you talking about?”
I wanted to think I didn’t understand him, because it was unbelievable to me that a father would suggest such a thing to his child. Or maybe I didn’t want to believe that mine cared more about money than whoring out his only daughter.
“Use your feminine wiles, Sophia. Lord knows you inherited those from your mother.”
I felt my face heat. “You’re serious?”
“We all have to do things at times for the sake of the family.”
I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath before answering. “Which family are you doing things for today, Father? Would that be the one you walked away from when I was three weeks old, or the one where your mistress was nineteen when she got pregnant?”
“Don’t be a smartass, Sophia. It’s very unbecoming of you.”
As per usual, trying to have a professional conversation with my father proved fruitless. I had better things to do than stand here and argue with him, so I gave in…for now. He could win this battle, but I knew exactly what I needed to do to win the war. Plus, the valuation of this hotel was going to take weeks, and my father’s wife would never tolerate him being gone that long. I’d outlast him for sure.
“You know what? Why don’t you work with the valuation team? I have plenty of other stuff to keep me busy.”
He gave a curt nod. “Good. I’m glad we understand each other.”
I extended a plastic smile, though my father had never spent enough time with me to understand my sarcasm. “Oh, I understand you perfectly, Dad. I’ll see you later.”
***
“I saw Billy Boy is back.”
I’d been working behind the counter at the lobby reception desk when Weston walked up behind me. He stood a little too close, so I moved to a computer three spots over and hit the space bar to wake up the operating system.
“You seem to have a lot of free time to wander around the hotel and check out what my family and I are up to,” I said. “It’s too bad you don’t use that time to do something helpful. While Louis is working on filling the open positions, the staff is short-handed. I’m sure they could use you to clean some toilets, if you have nothing to do.”
Weston followed me over to where I’d moved and leaned one elbow on the counter, facing me while I typed. “Doesn’t look like you’re too busy yourself, moving around from computer to computer.”
I sighed and motioned with my hand. “Do you see anyone else here? I’m helping out so Louis can do interviews upstairs for the assistant manager positions. One of the two reception clerks is in the back working on assigning rooms for new check-ins, and the other is at lunch.”
“Trying to win employee of the month already?” He chided. “Such a kiss ass.”
Renée, the woman who worked the reception desk, came out from the back. She looked at the two of us and said, “I’m sorry. I can come back.”
“No, no. It’s fine,” I assured her. “You’re not interrupting anything. What can I do for you?”
She held out one of those little cardboard room key holders with a plastic swipe card inside. “I switched your room. Would you like me to have housekeeping go up and move your stuff?”
I shook my head and took the key, slipping it into my pocket. “No, that’s fine. I’ll pack it up and move later. Thank you, Renée.”