Flirting with Paradise

by Chris Keniston

  Brad shoved the used linens into the laundry bag and, standing at the foot of the bed, pulled the drawstring closed. "I'll take this to the chute."

  All she could do was bob her head. Words were jumbled in confusion. Grappling with emotions she hadn't faced in so long, she had no idea what to do about any of it. Except make the beds and move on. She pulled clean sheets from her cart. That's how it worked. One step at a time. One task at a time. She was making way too much of a simple chemical reaction. None of this was any big deal. So the guy was too handsome for words. More than forty women would be arriving soon, and, for now, that was all that mattered.

  "Want some help with that, or should I start with the next room?" Brad stood just inside the doorway.

  No big deal. "Go ahead and do the other bed. Let's knock this out and call it in. If we can keep up the pace, we might pull this off."

  Brad smiled, pushed away from the door, and her traitorous heart rate took off galloping again. This was going to be a long morning.

  They'd made it through four more rooms, working in the same easy rhythm they'd established—before she'd discovered the man had dreamy eyes and a rock-solid chest that she had no business salivating over—when Sandy knocked on the door frame.

  "Checkout is slowing down. Keith has it under control. Thought you could use an extra set of hands."

  "Can I." Of all days for Lani to flake out on her, this had to be the worst. Even with a full staff, doing make-ready for a sold-out hotel was a stretch. This short-handedness was a nightmare.

  "Where do I start?" Sandy literally rolled up her sleeves and, with a smile, rubbed her hands together. She so should have gotten the job as assistant manager. Not that Brad wasn't doing the position justice, but there had to be other hotels under the EastCo umbrella needing new management where he could have been sent. Maybe not on the Big island, but somewhere.

  New management? Hope froze at the ugly thoughts flooding her mind. Was this guy really here to fill a gap or was he only the first of new management intended to replace the current guard? That’s how EastCo worked and everyone knew it. The first replacement fills a void, then one by one the established loyal employees get booted for a company employee. Oh, Lord, she hoped not. Finding another job close to her home and Jason’s school where she wouldn't have to work her way up all over again would not be easy. She'd looked for a lateral move to another hotel when the news of the buyout had first hit, but even with the booming tourism business and condominium complexes, opportunities were slim. No, her best option was to do everything in her power to keep the job she had.

  Lost in thought, or nerves, she turned to find both Brad and Sandy standing in front of her, waiting for their next instructions. Her cell phone sounded, and she hit Speaker. Nina needed more supplies.

  Hope turned to Brad.

  He was already moving out the door. "On my way."

  "That leaves you and me to finish up the beds," Hope said to Sandy.

  Without further instruction, Sandy moved to the opposite side of the room and stripped the bed. It took her a few quiet seconds before she cleared her throat and stuffed a pillow into a clean case. "How's he doing?"

  "Not bad."

  "Looks like a hard worker." She reached for another pillow.

  "Better than I expected."

  "I guess it was too much to hope he was a blithering idiot who tripped over his own feet."

  Hope chuckled. "Could still happen."

  A smile replaced Sandy's sullen expression. "I can hope." Snapping out the clean top sheet, she let it glide onto the bed. "Can I ask a question?"

  "Of course." Hope already had her bed made and was walking over to help Sandy.

  "You seem nervous. It’s not like you to let a little time crunch ruffle your feathers. Is something wrong?"

  "With me?" Hope tucked in the sheet corner. "No. Not at all."

  Sandy tossed a pillow to Hope and reached for another. "You're sure?"

  "Yeah. Just overworked, like the rest of us." Hope set the pillows across the headboard. It didn't strike her as a very good idea to mention how the new guy doing the job Sandy wanted had Hope overheated. Especially since she hadn't a clue what the heck she was going to do about it.

  ***

  It was almost one o'clock, and, according to the clipboard Hope kept checking off, they still had a few more rooms to go before the block reserved for the incoming group would be ready. For the last few rooms, Brad had been the one calling in the status reports. Picking up the phone to relay one more room was complete, the voice on the other end almost shouted, "Buses in the drive."

  Red Hats arriving ten minutes early. They couldn't have been a dear and shown up ten minutes late? Or twenty? Hope set the last clean wastebasket in place when he hung up and gave her the news.

  "The ladies are here."

  "Okay." She sucked in a breath and blew it out. "What about the reward guests?"

  "Room 322 just checked out." Brad repeated what Sandy had told him. "No word on 311."

  "Good." She breathed deep again. "We'd better move it."

  "Keith wants me at the front desk."

  "Go." Hope was already in the hall, ready to move to the next room. "We can handle the last of this. I'll have Nina come for the supply cart. You do what they brought you here for." With a smile and a thumbs-up, she turned away, and shoved the empty cart up the hall.

  Her last words made him feel like a heel. For the first time all day he felt like a lying fraud. A cheat. A spy. And there wasn't a blasted thing he could do about it. He'd committed to a two-week run for this gig, and he wasn't going to go back on his word over a guilty conscience. In fourteen days he'd move on, and no one would be the wiser that Brad Kane was one and the same with Bradford Peyton, CEO.

  Taking the stairs instead of the elevator, he sprinted outside and took a shortcut across the central courtyard that connected some of the hotel's buildings to the lobby, ignoring the Do Not Walk On the Grass signs. It wasn't like anyone could actually fire him. In the lobby the bright colors worn by the new arrivals took him by surprise. Yes, he knew about Red Hat ladies. And, no, he'd never actually been in a room filled with women wearing red hats of every size and shape imaginable.

  Across the lobby he caught Keith surveying the crowded space before addressing the customer in front of him. Next to him, holding out a room card, Sandy smiled at an older woman who appeared in no rush to give the next in line a chance to visit. Despite the request for early check-in, none of the laughing and chatting women scattered about the lobby appeared in any hurry.

  With a handful of smiles and welcomes, Brad made his way to the Employees’ Only door and hurried through the office to stand beside Keith. "What can I do?"

  "Familiar with our system?" he asked in a whisper.

  Brad had to shake his head. He'd never worked on any of the systems for any of the hotels he'd bought, sold, or kept through the years.

  "Okay. Stay with me while I check in a few more people. When you think you can handle it on your own, take over this position, and I'll move to the computer at the end."

  Brad nodded and watched in horror as seconds ticked by, waiting for fresh screens to appear after every step. "Is it always this slow?"

  Keith nodded, swiped a credit card, and waited for the new screen. "Part of the terms for the sale was the Paradise Shores had to convert to Estacio’s software."

  "And that didn't help?"

  The screen refreshed, and Keith entered the data and programmed the room key. "Help? Even if this new system had been better than what we had, which it isn't—"

  "What do you mean, it isn't?" Brad had to lower his voice so the guests wouldn’t overhear.

  "It requires more steps than the software we used to have. Before, with the old system, available rooms were automatically integrated. Now we have to change from one screen to another to pull up and assign a room."

  Brad didn't like the sound of that.

  "Here you go, Ms. Holland. Elevators are
across the lobby to your left. Enjoy your stay." Keith held out the room keys and pointed to the elevators with his other hand.

  "I always do." The woman smiled back, turning and handing the card to another woman beside her in a bright purple dress.

  Keith tapped at the keyboard to call up the new screen as the next person in line approached. "Not only is this program not better than what we had, it didn't occur to anyone that we might need a hardware upgrade to use it."

  "I see." Brad watched intently, taking in every step and kicking himself for what he'd thought had been a brilliant idea—one step closer to updating the hotel and putting it back on the market for a tidy profit. Nowhere in the reports he'd read did it mention inadequate hardware.

  "How did it go making beds?" Keith asked quietly while waiting for the screen change.

  "Fine. Could have bounced a quarter on them."

  Keith looked at him sideways and held back a chuckle. "I wouldn't have pegged you for former military."

  "I'm not."

  "Thank you for your patience, Ms. Deleon." Keith held out the welcome card with the room key.

  The larger-than-life woman flashed a huge grin that made her eyes sparkle. "It's not like I've got anywhere else to go."

  Keith chuckled, gave the rest of his speech about amenities, elevators, and for her to let him know if she needed anything. Once again refreshing screens between guests. "We appreciate your help with the make-readies. I'll be sure it goes in my report to the new main office."

  Brad almost laughed at that. "It's not like working with Hope was a hardship."

  For a split second Keith's fingers froze over the keyboard, and Brad was reasonably certain it was not because of the software or hardware.

  "Has she worked here long?"

  This time Brad could see the tightening of Keith's jaw as he pressed down on his back teeth. "Yes, but I wouldn't get any ideas."

  "Ideas?"

  "She's a nice lady. She doesn't need to be tangled up in… anything." Keith attended to the next guest, his frustration with the new computer system and with Brad's comments about Hope well hidden.

  Confident he could take on the incoming guests by himself, Brad opted to wait a while longer. He wanted to know more about Hope—and Keith—but chose not to speak until the current guest checking in had turned her back. "Then there's no husband?"

  Keith shook his head.

  "Boyfriend?"

  Keith shot him a steely glare before turning his attention to the next guest.

  Brad was a patient man; he could wait this out.

  Another red-hat-wearing lady all checked in, Keith removed his fingers from the keyboard and turned to fully face Brad. "There is a strict policy of no fraternizing between upper management and employees. There are two upper management positions in this hotel. Mine and now apparently yours. Am I clear?"

  "Crystal. I think I can handle this on my own now." As an afterthought, Brad pointed at the computer.

  Keith took an extra long moment before nodding, then walked away.

  Apparently Brad wasn't the only one to have Hope Gibbons get under his skin. The question at hand was, what was Brad going to do about it?

  Chapter Five

  "Four thirty. Not bad." Nina slid her card into the time clock.

  "I can't wait until we're fully staffed again so I can get out the door on time." Under normal conditions, Hope could finish up and be out the door by four o'clock and get to Jason’s school in time to avoid paying another hour of aftercare.

  She still had another thirty minutes' worth of paperwork to do, but she was bone-tired and would probably do a better job after a good night's sleep. So Hope gathered her purse and flung it over her shoulder. Following Nina out the door, she pulled it shut behind them and turned the lock.

  "I'm so pooped, my tired is tired." Nina held back a yawn.

  "I know. It's the stress. Rushing is as mentally exhausting as physical efforts." Hope paused at the door to the ladies' room.

  "Call me in the morning if Lani flakes again and you need me to come in."

  "Thanks, but I'm sure she'll be here."

  Nina walked away, shaking her head.

  Hope couldn't blame her. Lani had become terribly unreliable, but, with three young children, Hope didn't have the heart to let her go.

  Her reflection in the mirror showed what Hope already knew; she was working her butt off and not getting enough sleep. Even if she wanted a man, the way she looked now would scare even the most desperate away. Except Keith. She sucked in a breath and thought back to the tingles racing from her fingertips to her toes when Brad had grabbed her wrist. It hadn't been a gentle touch. He'd snatched her hard and hadn't let go, and her pulse had taken off like a greyhound after a rabbit.

  Just remembering it had her heart racing once again. Why couldn't a nice guy like Keith send her senses reeling like that? Leaving her bag on the counter, she used the restroom, then washed her hands. Staring at her reflection again, she wondered when she had gotten so careless about her appearance. Her hair—twisted in a knot atop her head—had long ago tilted sideways, making her face look… unbalanced. With no makeup and dark circles under her eyes, she looked and felt a heck of a lot older than she was.

  Removing the one pin in her hair and untying the bun, she ran her fingers along her scalp, shaking out the long strands. Somewhere in her purse she had one of those folding comb-brush combinations. Rummaging through tissues and crackers and gummy candy, she finally snagged what she'd been looking for. Carefully threading the comb through her tangles, she continued until her hair hung past her shoulders. She still looked exhausted, but at least she felt a little closer to human. Satisfied she wouldn't scare the crows, she gathered her belongings and hurried outside. If she didn't waste anymore time, she could make it to the elementary school before she ran into the next hour.

  A small part of her felt a little ridiculous, taking time to fuss with her hair and daydreaming. Despite what her hormones were screaming, the last thing she needed in her life was the complication of a man. All she needed was the one man already in her life. Eight years old, with wavy blonde hair and big blue eyes.

  Her bag in the passenger seat, Hope buckled in and turned the key. Nothing. Not a stutter. Not a groan. Silence. Painful silence. This made no sense. She'd just had the oil changed. The extra all-points-whatever check had said the car was good to go. Pumping the pedal the way she remembered seeing when she was a kid, she sucked in a wishful breath and, closing her eyes, turned the key again. Nothing. A rapping on her window startled a gasp out her.

  "Sorry. Need some help?" Brad stood, leaning down at her.

  Fumbling at the door, she lowered the window. "The car won't start."

  Brad leaned back and eyed her old car from front to rear and then leaned in again. "Turn the key."

  She did as instructed. Still nothing.

  "I'm not a mechanic, but my first guess is you need a new starter."

  She didn't want to hear about anything that cost more than an oil change. Her budget was always stretched to the max and having to pay extra for afternoon daycare wasn't helping. "Maybe all I need is a jump?"

  "I doubt it."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  One brow rose up, then relaxed. "You've got juice."

  "How do you know?"

  "This car isn't old enough to have manual windows, and you opened the window when I tapped on it."

  "Oh." He was right. The key had been turned halfway between running and off. Just to be sure, she hit the map light, not at all happy when the singular beam shone down on her.

  "If it were a bad battery, the engine would most likely have made some effort to turn over. But it's probably not the battery. Do you have someone you can call?"

  Call. Murphy's law had struck again. In an effort to save money she'd canceled the roadside service she normally had. "No."

  "A mechanic you use?"

  She shook her head. The yogurt she'd inhaled at lunch soured
in her stomach. "I have to pick up my son." Maybe she could pay for a car service. Not in the budget, but what choice did she have?

  "Son?"

  Hope snatched her purse off the passenger seat in search of her cell phone. "Jason. He goes to Kahuna Elementary, and I get charged more for aftercare if I go past the hour."

  "I can give you a ride."

  Her phone in hand, she balked at the unexpected offer. "You don't have to do that."

  "No. I don't. But you need a ride. I have a car and no place immediate to be. Seems reasonable to me. Besides," his gaze softened, "I'd like to help."

  The words, "Thank you," tumbled out before she had a chance to think this through all the way.

  "Good. On the drive over we'll figure out what to do with your car."

  Looking into those steel-gray eyes, Hope wished everything could be this simple. Car breaks down and Sir Lancelot with his white hatchback come to the rescue. But this was no fairy tale, and she had the craziest feeling that her broken-down car had just become the least of her problems.

  ***

  Son? Hope looked way too young to have a son in school. Then again, most people thought Brad looked too young to be the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company. More than one.

  And having a son wasn't the only surprise. When she exited the car and pulled to her full height, a cascade of thick blonde hair fell, caressing her shoulders. Good grief. Had he really thought her only a little bit pretty? Without a lick of makeup this woman was stunning. His mouth went instantly dry. What wouldn't he give to change places with those golden locks and run his hand down her neck, across her shoulders and back up to the moist lips she was nibbling on.

  Keeping his mouth shut, not that he could find something reasonable to say even if he wanted to, he waved her forward and took an extra second to breathe deep and get his head on straight. At his car, their hands momentarily collided as they both reached for the passenger door handle at the same time. The electricity zapped though him even stronger than it had earlier in the hotel. "Allow me."