by Tina Martin
“Okay, so I’ll give her a ten dollar an hour raise and all is right with the world again.”
Emory glared at him.
“What?” Giovanni asked. “Is ten dollars more not enough, Emmie?”
“I didn’t say that,” Emory replied.
“Then why’d you give me the side-eye?”
“Ugh…Vanni, money can’t fix everything. You have to take a personal interest in people.”
“Emmie’s right,” Remington added. “I’ve already offered Joelle twenty an hour, and she declined.”
“So this Joelle person has another job, then?” Giovanni inquired.
“Yeah. She’s working at Island Street Deli.”
Giovanni grinned. “You mean to tell me this chick left a front desk clerk job and turned down twenty dollars an hour to slang sandwiches?”
“Yep, which makes me believe her reason for quitting the lodge was personal. That’s where you come into play. I need you to get inside of her head, find out why she quit and find some way to get her back at Smoky Mountain Lodge. Think you can handle it?”
Giovanni thought for a moment. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter 1
[Two Weeks Later]
Joelle Bannon’s steps slowed as she approached his table – Giovanni Lennox. She knew he was a Lennox, just like she knew he was the newly appointed district manager of Lennox Enterprises. Plus, he had a striking resemblance to his older brother, Remington Lennox, who she had spoken to about two weeks ago. Remington had wanted her to come back and work for one of their hotels – Smoky Mountain Lodge – and had even offered her, what she felt was a fair salary considering the amount of work she used to put in at the lodge. But it was too little, too late.
Everyone in these small mountain towns knew the Lennox family well, and that’s because Lennox Enterprises employed a good number of them. There was a huge uproar when it was rumored that Lennox Enterprises was thinking about moving their headquarters to Atlanta, Georgia. When Remington announced that those were just rumors and assured the townspeople that the company was staying put, the clamor diminished.
Joelle nervously chewed on her bottom lip as she approached his table. She noticed Giovanni had been coming by regularly, dressed to the nines, on and off for the last two weeks. And he’d sit there, staring at her while she worked. Just staring. Did his brother put him up to this? If he had, she wasn’t interested. When she quit her front desk position at the lodge, she had no intentions of going back, no matter the offer.
She looked at the number on the ticket to make sure it corresponded to the red placard on his table – number fifty-four – matched perfectly.
Fifty-four.
Her stomach soured. Why me?
He just had to sit at the table that gave him a good view of the kitchen and her. Every time she came out with a tray to deliver food, he was right there. Staring. Unashamedly so. If he wasn’t looking at her, which was a rarity, he’d be on his cell or gazing out the window, daydreaming.
She doubted that the well-dressed, overpaid, sinfully handsome executive with eyes of pure gold knew anything about her or why she’d quit working at the lodge. He didn’t need to know. Quite frankly, it was none of his business. Besides, she was one of the little people at Lennox Enterprises. Employees weren’t recognized in that company unless they worked for the corporate office, or unless they were a manager. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why Kevin Knicely kept getting raises year after year. The man was as dumb as a cracked sidewalk, and though he touted his skills and success in front of the executives, when it was time to show and prove, guess who did all the work?
Now they want me back? To work with that moron? Not in this lifetime, she thought as she headed to Giovanni’s table.
She wasn’t in the mood for his banter today. From experience, she knew the man loved to talk. She overheard him talking to Vanesha yesterday, and she hoped he didn’t attempt to engage her in some sort of conversation, even if it was something as simple as how beautiful the day was. Of course, the day was beautiful. When you got paid to do nothing but “supervise” folk all day and slam back sandwiches – every day was easy breezy.
Pull it together, Jojo. You’ve got one job…
And that was to drop off his food and haul it. She wasn’t a waitress. Didn’t work for tips. She took people’s food to their tables, grabbed their number placard and left. Simple, right? But Mr. Lennox had to complicate things with his inquisitive stares, blood-pressure-elevating gazes and sexy, sneaky smirks.
She took a breath. Okay, Jojo, here’s what you do. Don’t talk to him. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t take any baits. Drop his food off, get the placard and run. Run for your life!
She forced herself to hold in a grin thinking about that last part. Run for your life. Okay, so maybe she was going a bit overboard thinking about this. Calming her nerves by way of deep breaths, she told herself she’d treat him like any other patron. But then again, other male customers didn’t have her heart rate elevated. Didn’t make her palms sweaty. Didn’t make her nervous. For some reason, Giovanni did.
Using the table adjacent to her to lower the red tray she was carrying, she removed a plate with a club sandwich and plain potato chips, lowering it in front of him, trying her best not to connect her eyes with his penetrating stare.
Don’t make eye contact, she reminded herself. So far, so good.
Next, she took a bowl of broccoli cheddar soup from the tray (apparently, Giovanni had quite the appetite) then placed it next to the plate. Her food drop-off plan had worked except for one minor flaw – she couldn’t reach his number placard, which meant she had to ask him for it.
Darn it!
He probably moved the thing out of her reach intentionally. That would explain the smirk on his face when she asked, “Excuse me, can I have your number, please?”
A sly grin touched his lips. “Thought you’d never ask. It’s 828-555—”
“Sorry,” she said, interrupting him. “I guess I need to be more specific. I need your order number placard.”
“Oh. Right. That.” He turned to the left to look at the number, then looked back at her. “Are you sure you don’t want my phone number instead?”
“Positive.”
He grinned, revealing the brilliance of his white teeth. “Just playing with you…Jojo.” He looked at her nametag, clearly read Joelle but decided to call her Jojo instead. “Bet that’s your nickname, huh?”
“My name is, Joelle. Can I have the number please?”
“Sure. It’s 828-555-2774.” He grinned, showing off a dimple that magnified the hard line of his jaw. Now that he was convinced he’d successfully ruffled her feathers, he said, “Sure. You can have the number, Jojo, but first, could you bring me some black, currant tea? And go heavy on the ice, please.”
Really? You’re blackmailing me to fetch you some tea? She glared at him. She knew, that he knew, it was up to the patrons to get their own drinks. Servers didn’t do that. They just provided the food. That was it. The self-serve drink fountain was conveniently located next to the salad bar.
“Something wrong?” Giovanni asked when she hadn’t moved. He couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face if he wanted to.
“You’ve been coming here every day for like two weeks straight.”
“Wow. You’ve noticed. And, all this time, I thought you were intentionally avoiding me, but carry on. I think you were trying to make a point.”
Lord, help me.
Irritation settled in her temples. “My point is, you’re not new, so you know the routine. You’re supposed to get your own drink. I’m not a waitress.”
“Yet, you serve food…”
“I’m not a waitress,” she snapped.
“Well, could you do it as a favor to me just this once? I’ll be forever grateful. Jojo.”
“I could, but I won’t. I have other people waiting for their food and you’re holding me up. The placard, please.”
&n
bsp; He’d pissed her off enough, he thought. From her no-nonsense stance and elevated tone, he was quite sure of it, so instead of irritating her any further, he handed her the placard, wished her a good day then watched her walk away from the table until she was out of sight.
He smiled. Joelle Bannon seemed like the type of woman Emory told him he needed – some chocolate. Some beautiful, smooth milk chocolate. Too bad this sweet treat came with a side of attitude.
Chapter 2
She wouldn’t feel comfortable until he left. Joelle had seen him staring at her before, but today, his focus was extra sharp. More intense. How was a woman supposed to concentrate with a handsome man like Giovanni Lennox eyeing her every move?
“Okay, he’s been coming in here like er’ day. Now I know why. He’s been checking you out, girl,” Vanesha said.
Joelle fanned her off. She wouldn’t consider the girl a friend. She gossiped more than old church ladies. Besides, she hadn’t known Vanesha long – only for about two months.
“Oh, don’t front. A woman knows when a man is at her, and he is at you something fierce.”
Jojo laughed it off. “First of all, who are you talking about?”
Like she didn’t know…
“That suited-up caramel brotha over there…the table you just left from. He looked you up and down until you got over here.”
Jojo looked up to take a look at Giovanni, at the same time watching him stretch his mouth open wide to take a bite of his sandwich. She’d already eaten but the way he ate his food made her want another meal. Made her stomach growl. Or maybe it wasn’t the hunger for food that caused her stomach to growl…
“Okay. Dish. Who is he?” Vanesha asked.
“You tell me, Vanesha. He’s one of your regulars. Today was my first time serving him.”
“You sure about that?”
Joelle playfully slapped Vanesha on the forearm. “Positive.”
“So why does he look at you like he knows you?”
Jojo blew a breath. “His name is Giovanni Lennox, newly appointed district manager of Lennox Enterprises. I used to work there.”
Vanesha’s eyes brightened. “Oh, so you do know him.”
“Not at all. I worked at one of the hotels Lennox Enterprises owns. I never met with the higher ups before. Giovanni is the district manager. District, meaning he’s never there at the office. Manager, meaning he does no work. He only tells other people what to do and I do not consider that work. I’ve never seen him at the hotel where I used to work. Never.”
“But here he is, all up in your grill.”
“Yep.”
“You think it’s a coincidence?”
“Honestly, Vanesha, I really don’t care.”
Jojo took a tray and began putting the next order together.
“So, you used to work for Lennox Enterprises, huh?”
“Yep. Ten years at the Smoky Mountain Lodge.”
“And how did you end up here?”
“Easy. I quit.”
“Just like that?” Vanesha inquired.
“Yep. Just like that. Got tired of it. Plus, I hate corporate and everything about it. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and decided to make a change. I wanted a job that gives me flexibility, not one that drains the life out of me.”
“Well, you’re going to have plenty of flexibility when you get fired from this job.”
Jojo frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Looks like your ex-district manager friend is talking to Jerry. Don’t look now, but they’re both looking over here.”
“Oh no,” Jojo said. The color drained from her face. It was never good when, Jerry, manager at Island Street Deli, carried this deep of a conversation with a patron. And they were both looking her way. Talking about her. She instantly felt sweat gather on her forehead. “I’m screwed.”
“Screwed? I was only kidding, Jojo, unless you did something.”
“I’m screwed,” Jojo repeated.
“Oh snap, Jojo,” Vanesha said. “What did you do?”
“Giovanni asked me to get him some tea, black currant tea to be exact, and I told him it wasn’t my job.”
“It’s not our job. We don’t get drinks, but maybe you should’ve made an exception for him.”
“Why? Because he’s a Lennox, and he has money?”
“No, because he’s snitching you out to Jerry right now, girl!”
“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now, is there?” Jojo said, lifting the tray and walking towards the dining area looking for the table with ticket number sixty-one. She found it, left the food, took the placard and tried to hurry back for the kitchen when she heard Jerry call her.
“Yes?” she looked over at him. He was still standing at Giovanni’s table.
“Can you come here for a minute?”
Her stomach twisted in excruciating knots. “Sure.” Oh no. This can’t be good. Now I’m going to get put on the spot, fired, all in front of Giovanni. All because I didn’t fetch him a glass of black currant tea? Like he couldn’t get his own freakin’ tea. Spoiled, rich jerk. I should’ve got it for him, then dashed it in his face had I known I was going to get fired, anyway.
Joelle could beat herself up right about now. She’d just got this job for crying out loud. Jobs weren’t plentiful in Bryson City. You had to take what you could get. It took all she had to quit the lodge and by sheer luck, she’d found this deli gig, making fifty cents more per hour than she was working for Lennox Enterprises.
Now, she was about to be standing in an unemployment line, or maybe this was all a part of Giovanni’s plan to get her back at the lodge. After all, that’s why Remington came to see her – to offer her the front desk job back with better pay. She’d turned him down. If Giovanni could get her fired from this position, then maybe he thought she’d easily return to the lodge. Was that his plan?
She was apprehensive as she approached the table. She couldn’t run, even though that’s what she would’ve liked to do at this point – take off in a full, athletic sprint, never to be seen or heard from again. Instead, she said lightheartedly, “Hey, Jerry. Is there a problem?” She glanced at Giovanni before returning her attention back to Jerry.
“Mr. Lennox was just telling me how much he appreciated your hard work. Said you’ve been professional and courteous every time he stops by.”
Every time…
Today was the first day she’d ever said a word to him. The first time ever dropping off his food. But he said she was courteous every time. Really?
Jojo glanced at Giovanni, smiled uncomfortably and said, “Oh. Well, thank you, Mr. Lennox.” Bastard. You want to recognize me for doing excellent work at the deli, but when I was working for your hotel, I didn’t get so much as a pat on the back. Hypocrite.
“You’re welcome, Joelle,” Giovanni replied. “I know you’re not a waitress and all, but I feel compelled to leave you a tip.”
Compelled…
She felt compelled to slap that smug look off of his face.
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Jojo replied. How about you tip on out of this restaurant?
“It is necessary. Consider it a gift from a man who appreciates a hardworking woman.” He slipped a folded bill into her grasp.
“Well, thank you,” she said, only because her boss was standing there.
“No, thank you,” Giovanni said.
“Nice job, Joelle,” Jerry said. “Keep up the good work.”
“Thanks, Jerry. I have to get back to my tables now,” Joelle told them.
Nerves still on edge, Joelle headed to the kitchen where she glanced at the bill Giovanni placed in her hand: a one-hundred-dollar bill. What was this? Bribe money? Where was the appreciation for her hard work when she worked for Lennox Enterprises?
Chapter 3
After a rigorous workout, Giovanni sat on the enclosed deck at his house with his legs crossed at the ankles, staring down towards the lake in a sweaty tank top and towel around his
neck. He’d been tracking Joelle for two weeks. Today was the first time he thought he’d take a stab at approaching her to get a feel for her attitude. It would help him determine what angle to use for the purpose of getting her back to the lodge. But her attitude was one of which he’d never encountered. This assignment would require more effort and time than he wanted to invest. Besides, he wasn’t feeling this new role that Remington stuck him into. Being district manager when most of the people who worked at the hotels hated management in general was a difficult task. But Remington wouldn’t have given it to him if he thought he couldn’t handle it.
He took his cell phone from a side table and dialed Emory’s number.
“Hey,” she answered. “I’m just pulling up now.”
“All right. I’m out back.”
“Okay. See you in a minute.”
He heard her car coming up the gravel driveway, and a few minutes later, she slid open the patio doors and said, “You look stressed out,” when she saw him slumped back in the chair with a beer bottle in his hand. He usually had better posture than that and was in a better mood.
“I just finished working out, girl.”
“Yeah, but even still…” Emory handed him a bag of barbecue-flavored pork rinds, one of his favorite snacks.
“Thanks,” he said, opening them right away, munching away, smacking and all.
She sat down in the empty chair next to him and quietly watched him eat. “Something’s bothering you,” she said. “I can feel it.”
Giovanni shook his head. “It’s just this job thing.”
“You’re not feeling the new position?”
“Not at all, and don’t mention anything to Rem about this, but I feel like this company isn’t for me. I like business, but not sure if I like this business. I feel obligated to work at Lennox Enterprises since I’m a Lennox. Like, it’s what Dad would’ve wanted.”
Emory opened a bag of salt and vinegar chips and said, “Well, um…is there anything in particular about the new position that makes you want to quit?”
