Jenny
gritted her teeth and squeezed her pen, almost snapping it. She wasn't sure how
much longer she would be able to listen to the evil little tightwad go on and
on, constantly questioning her business decisions. She'd been running this
hotel for five years now. The Arcadia was like her baby, and now suddenly every
dime she spent—hell, every damn penny—was being scrutinized. Well, no more!
This time he had gone too far!
"Jenny!
Jenny, are you listening to me?"
She
cringed at his high-pitched, anything but masculine voice as he screamed at her
once again. Tell him, she silently encouraged herself. Tell him what
an asshole he is. Tell him he can take this job and shove it clear up his ass
until it reaches the empty hollow where his brain is supposed to be.
"Did
you hang up on me?" His shocked tone irritated her all the more.
Calming
her nerves, she placed her hands flat on the desk and took a deep breath. "No,
Mr Callaway, I did not hang up on you."
"Well,
speak up next time, then. You got something wrong with your hearing?"
Calm
down, she
willed herself. "No, sir."
"Well,
then?"
Well,
then what? she wanted to scream back at him, but as usual she didn't.
Instead she bit her tongue, just like she'd been doing for the past three
months ever since the Callaway Corporation had taken over the management of her
small resort hotel.
"Yes,
of course, Mr Callaway. I'll see what I can do to cut the payroll back a bit
more."
"I
don't want to hear that you'll see what you can do! Get it done!"
Emphasizing
his point, he slammed the phone down. The loud bang echoed through the phone,
reverberating into her ear.
A moment
passed and she waited for the stinging in her eyes to go away. Then she slowly
set the phone down, placing it back on its cradle. Her heart was racing and she
knew why. There was no way she would allow herself to be one of those people
dependent on medication, though. A minute or two of calm breathing would make
it pass and she would be just fine.
Breathe
in, breathe out, breathe in… BEEP…
The loud
noise permeated the silent room, startling her. Her heartbeat skyrocketed and
the room was now filled with the high-pitched squeal of Marianne, the front
desk reservation agent, who seemed to be in an eternal state of happiness.
"Jenny,
we have a gentleman here who is inquiring about the maintenance job."
Great.
The maintenance job. The one that she desperately needed to fill and had placed
an advertisement for. There was no way she could do that now, though. That position
for the hotel would be left empty, just like everything else since Callaway and
its micromanaging sharks took over.
Shaking
her head, she wondered how they even expected her to run this hotel without a
full staff. She had already cut back in every department. The front desk staff,
the restaurant, the lounge, anywhere and everywhere they were down to the bare
bones in employees. Just that morning she had to let go two housekeepers. Now,
with his most recent tongue-lashing, there was no way she could afford hiring a
maintenance worker.
She hit
the intercom button. "Thank you, Marianne. Could you please just tell the
man that the position has already been filled?"
"Oh,
it has? I didn't know…"
Jenny
quickly cut her off, "No, Marianne, it hasn't. Just please, tell him that,
okay?"
"Um…
sure, Jenny. I'll tell him."
She
heard the hesitation in Marianne's voice and knew there was going to be a round
of Twenty Questions at some point later that day. The two of them had worked
together for far too many years for Marianne not to pick up on the stress in
her voice. She didn't want to get into it with her though. How could she
explain that this hotel barely had enough money to pay for the guest essentials,
let alone payroll, with the joke of an operating budget those vultures approved
for her?
Marianne
was a sweet woman and someone she would even consider her friend, but she was
first and foremost an employee of the hotel. Jenny wasn't willing to cause a
panic in the ranks by alluding to the financial restraints they were under.
Stretching
her legs beneath the desk, she wished she could go for a run. She missed being
able to lose herself in the cool evening breeze as the mist came off the ocean.
She missed being able to put her feet up and eat a pint of ice cream. She
missed living.
"Stop
feeling sorry for yourself, Jenny. You have a job to do," she chided
herself in the quiet room.
In the
far corner of her office, next to her potted palm tree, sat the bucket of tools
she had been avoiding all morning. Glaring at them, she pushed out her chair
and got up from her desk. She took off her blazer and neatly hung it on a
hanger then placed it in her small office closet. She kicked off her heels and
grabbed her tennis shoes. Sitting down on the small sofa that flanked her desk,
she laced them up, double-knotting the bows. Two deep breaths later and she walked
over to the bucket holding her wrench, hammer, screwdrivers and plumber's snake
and strode out of her office.
She
approached room one-one-five—the room Mrs Grierson had made a complaint about
earlier that morning—and used her master key to unlock the door. Luckily, she
was able to sneak in without anyone seeing her. No witnesses meant no
explanations. The last thing she needed was to have to explain to a staff
member why she had a bucket of tools in hand.
"Oh
God." Her whole body cringed when she walked into the bathroom.
She
closed her eyes and turned away for a moment, silently hoping and praying that when
she looked back it would have all been a dream. No such luck, though. The leak
Mrs Grierson had reported was actually a lake—a very large lake, in fact, which
was flooding the entire bathroom in one of their nicest suites.
"Well,
here goes nothing."
Jenny
walked through the water. Her shoes were soaked inside and out after just two
steps, making an awful squishing noise. Hesitation wasn't an option as she
knelt in inches of water on the tile floor. She studied the pipe that had water
pouring from it for a moment before she reached for her wrench. Something her
grandfather had told her when she was little stuck in her mind. Righty
tighty, lefty loosey.
"Hmm."
She smiled.
The
concept was so simple, really. Why she had been so worried about having to try
to fix a silly little plumbing problem, she wasn't sure. Righty tighty.
Lefty loosey. No sweat!
Much
more relaxed, she grabbed her wrench, adjusted the fitting to be snug around
the pipe and turned to the right, pulling the wrench away from her and toward the…
Oh no.
Water
shot everywhere, all around her, covering her and everything within five feet.
Recovering from the shock, she squinted her eyes, trying to keep the spraying
water from obstructing her vision. With water pummeling her directly from the
fitting she had inadvertently loosened, she could barely tell where she was
placing the wrench. After fumbling through a few tries she finally had the tool
snug back around the fitting.
Finally!
She
pulled the wrench in the opposite direction and… "Oh, shit!" She
screamed the four-letter word loud enough for people to hear her on the top
floor.
Somehow
in her efforts to tighten the loose fitting she had instead managed to break
it, causing a full rush of water to shoot out at her, much like she would
expect to see in Yellowstone National Park when Old Faithful would erupt.
"No,
no, no, no!" she continued to shout.
"Oh
my gosh. Jenny, are you okay?"
Marianne's
voice came from behind her but she didn't turn to look. Instead she sat staring
at the eruption before her, drenched and completely frozen in disbelief.
Hands
touched her shoulders, then moved down and wrapped themselves firmly around her
upper arms. Suddenly, she found herself being moved out of the way. She was
able to catch a glimpse of a tall man with brown hair. He was saying something,
but she couldn't make out what it was over the rushing sound of water.
Then, as
if he had magic hands, he reached below the antique pedestal sink and turned a
knob. The water, which had been coming out at her as if it was on the attack
just moments ago, slowed down to a light flow, then a drip, then finally
nothing at all.
The
water shut-off valve! How could she have been so stupid?
Her
epiphany was interrupted by the tall, wet stranger asking, "Well, did you?"
"I'm
sorry? Did I what?" she asked him, confused and still frazzled.
A smile
cocked up on one side of his mouth. "I asked if you had considered
shutting off the water valve before doing any plumbing repairs."
For the
first time since he'd walked into the room she was finally getting a good look
at him. This man, whoever he was, was tall and slender, but his wet T-shirt
showed her what was hidden underneath the cotton fabric. His chest was defined
by muscles and while he didn't have large, overly muscular arms like so many
men she saw on the beach these days, they were definitely the arms of a working
man. The smile he was giving her wasn't half bad, either. In fact, if she had
the time for a boyfriend, she would say he was just handsome enough to be her
type.
Time for a boyfriend?
That
thought brought her back to reality. Bracing her hands down at her sides she
pushed herself to a standing position. Holding out her hand toward his, she
meant to shake it, but when his hand met hers she lost her balance, slipped and
fell to the ground, taking him with her.
A loud
crack echoed in her head when it met with the tile floor. It disoriented her
for a second. That was until she felt the strong, hard body lying on top of her.
Opening her eyes she realized their faces were just inches apart and she could
feel his breath caressing her lips.
Heat
warmed her wet body, despite lying there in inches of water. Her heart began to
race again, but not like it had before in her office. She swallowed a lump of
nervousness as it hit her throat. She attempted to speak, but no words came
out.
"Well,
sugar. You know, normally I like to spend a little time getting to know someone
before I get horizontal with them, but since you're so forceful, I might just
make an exception for you." He winked at her when he spoke the last word.
That
wink, or maybe it was the words he used, caused that heat she was feeling to
sink to her belly. A throbbing tingle shot down to her pussy and awoke all of
her nerve endings. It caused moisture to pool in between her thighs which had
nothing to do with the leaking pipe. Had anyone else said that to her she would
have smacked him and laughed in his face, so why did this man give her the
desire to wrap her legs around him and grind her hips into his?
"Who
are you?" Jenny asked.
A giggle
interrupted him from answering and they both looked over to see Marianne still
standing there in the doorway.
"Um…
perhaps this would be a good time to see what I can get together to help you
clean this up. Yeah, that's what I'll do." With a smile she shut the door,
leaving them alone.
They
turned their heads back to face one another again and time seemed to stand
still for a moment too long. Nervous, she was about to ask him again when he
finally answered.
"Beck,
and you must be my new boss," he said, with an even bigger smile covering
his face.
"Excuse
me?"
"The
maintenance job. I was the person at the front desk inquiring about it and I
think that you should fire yourself from that position and hire me instead. No
offense, but you lack certain plumbing skills."
His sexy
grin was affecting her more than she cared to admit. That, and the fact that
his tone was sounding more and more condescending, was confusing and irritating
her.
"I
see. Well, we are just fine, thank you. We do not need a maintenance worker for
our hotel."
"You
don't need a maintenance worker?" Laughter filled the room as he moved off
her and lay down beside her, holding his stomach in apparent amusement.
Shocked
by his arrogance, she got up from the floor and stood over him. A smirk and a cock
of his brow made her realize she was standing close enough for him to see up
her skirt.
"Mr
Beck, we do not need a maintenance worker. Now, I appreciate the help, but
unless you are a guest of this hotel I would like you to leave."
Annoyed
with his behavior she walked out of the room, needing to get to her suite and
clean herself up.
He
shouted to her, "Not Mr Beck. Just Beck."
"Of
all the arrogant, condescending, overbearing…" Her voice trailed off,
muttering the words to no one but herself as she got in the elevator.
To win a copy of my newest release, When Promise Meets Passion leave me a comment below (with your email address) telling me who your hero is. If you don't have one, who do you see as one? There is no wrong answer as I'm sure we can all agree, heroes come in many forms. 
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