Her words create a puzzle that seems comprised of different pieces, all evoking distinctive emotions: jealously, relief, intrigue, confusion, and so much desire I can barely think past the haze of lust that’s settled across me like a fucking fog. “What a fucking idiot.” I slip my hand under her shirt and grip the soft skin of her hip. I want to taste her again, feel her against me, see her fully exposed, but I have little doubt she’s sore, so instead, I pull her closer, evoking another giggle from her as she turns so her back is to my front. I nuzzle against her bare neck, trying to understand how this can feel so utterly perfect when nothing about it is anything I’ve ever wanted.
19
Tyler
I button my suit jacket and straighten my tie.
Most say I look like my dad, but my hair is from my mum, and my height is from her side as well. I was taller than both my dad and grandad by the time I was fifteen. As I stare at myself in the mirror, I contemplate how much of them is in me that can’t be reflected.
I release a sigh, flipping off the lights before I open the door so I don’t wake Chloe.
She’s stretched across the mattress, arms and legs extended like da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. The sheet’s tangled around her right leg, her hair a maze around her face. She’s fucking gorgeous.
I contemplate leaving her and messaging Cooper with some excuse. After all, it’s not like we did anything here in my room. I could leave the door open so if one of them came by, they’d see her fully dressed.
The envelope of money stares at me from the couch, reminding me how little she appreciated me not listening to her yesterday after she’d refused the winnings the first time.
Instead of waking her, I open my bedroom door and check the room she shares with Vanessa, which is currently empty, and quietly carry her back to the other bed. I lay her down, and she rolls to her side, snuggling into the pillow. I lift the blankets to cover her and silently pull the door shut behind me.
Down in the hotel’s reception, I stop at the concierge desk where Cammie, one of the best in the business, is seated, preparing for her day.
“Mr. Banks,” she greets me with a smile. “How can I help you? Would you like me to make any reservations for you?”
“Good morning, Cammie. I’m looking for some tickets to one of the Cirque du Soleil shows. If they have any private balconies, that would be brilliant. I’d like two. Also, could you please make arrangements for Vanessa and Chloe Robinson to receive full spa treatments this afternoon?”
Cammie scribbles a note with the details. “Anything else?”
“We’ll need a dinner reservation. Can you make sure we have a table available here at Fork? Something near the back that’s more private.”
She nods with understanding. “Absolutely. I’ll be sure the chef knows you’re coming. How many will join you for the reservation?”
“Four total.”
She nods again, adding to her note before flashing a smile. “Perfect. I’ll have the confirmation for the show sent to your email. If you need anything else, please let me know.”
I weave through the hotel reception, comparing it to the others we’ve seen over the past couple of days, making my way to the conference room the general manager and accountant are meeting me this morning.
“Mr. Banks,” Marshall, the GM says, rising from his chair. “It’s so nice to see you again, sir. How have the accommodations been?” He’s quick to move forward and shake my hand, smiling like we’re friends, though I’ve only met him a handful of times, all of them involving me staying here for bender weekends that I’d tally in the regret sector of my past.
“Good, thanks.” I shake the accountant’s hand as well, wishing one of them would remind me of her name because I always feel like such a twat when I can’t remember someone’s name in intimate settings like this.
Neither does.
“We’ve prepared the documents you requested,” the accountant says, sliding a file to me as I sit at the round table.
“Wonderful. The hotel is in pristine condition, and I know with the weather and guests we receive, that’s not always easy to maintain, so please, know my compliment is sincere. Also, our room has been wonderful. Clean, updated, classy,” I tick off the things we pride our hotels on. “I would like to hear from you both in regards to any concerns you might have. Obstacles with which you’re struggling? Staffing concerns?” I leave it vague because each hotel has similar obstacles, as well as unique ones, and because I’ve apparently been too obvious in my questions about the management company.
Marshall flashes a smile. His mostly silver hair is short, a flawless fitting black suit decorating him like a figurehead. I did my research on him last night and discovered he’s been with the company for fifteen years, transferring from another hotel into a management position. I don’t think I would have made the same hiring decision off paper, but in person, Marshall’s quick to impress, his confidence as flashy and bright as the city.
“Well, we met with Mr. Avery a couple of months ago to cover pretty much everything, and we mutually agreed we’re doing quite well. We’d like to eventually expand the pool and do something a bit more impressive with a wave pool and some slides, but for now, it does the job. And the new carpeting that was delayed should be done next year, which will really add a lot to the basic suites. Hopefully, we can consider doing something with the bathrooms in about five years, incorporating some of the design elements that were suggested.”
I glance over the expenditures, searching for the carpet. “You mentioned the carpets were delayed. Was that due to the contractor? Materials?”
Marshall sits up, annoyance flashing across his features as he shakes his head. “Everything that could go wrong has. But isn’t that the case with all construction projects?” He laughs.
“So it’s been fully funded?”
Marshall looks at the accountant for confirmation, and she nods. “Yes, sir. You can find that on line item G-five-forty-three.
I skim to the referenced line and nod. “And it wasn’t refunded?”
Marshall shakes his head. “No, sir. Avery said it would help with taxes and we’d schedule it to be done next year.”
I nod, noting the similarity. “How about staffing?”
Another wide grin. “We could always use more staff, but who couldn’t?”
“Your check-in and check-out times always exceed goals. Where are your pain points?”
We go over how housekeeping needs additional space and discuss the contracts we have in place with the laundry and food services, and then go over forecasts and future projections and what Marshall thinks would drive traffic and make the Banks Hotel stand out amongst competitors—a question I’ve asked each general manager and am always surprised with the responses because rarely are they of value. Most times, it’s the concierges and front desk staff who provide the most insight on what could be improved. And the housekeeping manager and maintenance manager always have drastically different challenges than what the GM shares. It has me realizing there are many areas of disconnect, or possibly our GMs have been trained to downplay or possibly conceal potential issues.