She couldn’t breathe. It took a couple of tries before she got out the words, “Their daughter, Cleo?”
“Is fine. She was at school at the time.”
Her lungs loosened slightly, though the pain of knowing that Don and Cecelia were gone was overwhelming. “Who’s taking care of her? How...” Her mind stopped working almost entirely. How could this happen?
“I don’t have a lot of details, ma’am. I’m sorry. Their lawyer called our office. Apparently you were on the list of people to alert if something happened to them.” He ripped off a page from his notepad and passed it to her. “Here’s his contact information.”
“Thank you.” She took the paper but didn’t know what else to do or say.
“Would you like me to get someone to be with you?” he asked. “I can get one of your sisters.”
“No. No thanks.” She shook her head, looking back at him and forcing a smile while she mourned inside. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll go to one of their offices if I need to talk to someone.” She doubted her legs would hold her weight at the moment, but she didn’t want to face anyone else right now anyway.
He looked as though he wasn’t sure if he should go, but he accepted the dismissal. “The lawyer did state that they expected plans for the funeral to be set by the end of the day.”
“Thank you,” she said again. He left and a moment later she walked back into the kitchen. She passed right through on her way to the storage room, pausing only when spoken to. As she pushed open the door to the storage room, she felt hot tears roll onto her cheeks. Don and Cecelia were dead. It was like losing her father all over again. Maybe worse.
She allowed herself to grieve for several minutes, before wiping her face and forcing herself to focus on her job. She had to get through the next few hours at work, reschedule her life so she could go to DC. Cleo was going to need her, so she’d be strong. Tonight when she was in her bed alone there would be time to fall apart.
When she walked back into the kitchen and found out that the sandwich filling for lunch was ruined, she snapped.
Rosemary was still fuming, working like mad to keep up with the restaurant demands and oversee preparations for the banquet that afternoon. She just couldn’t catch a break, and she was so tired. And hungry. But she wasn’t going to indulge in anything until those sandwiches were made.
“Rosemary, can I talk to you for a minute?” It was Harrison, who always made her feel like a bumbling fool. He was using his calm, controlled voice—which meant they would probably be fighting in a few minutes, because that’s what they always did when they ‘talked.’
“I’m a little busy here. Can it wait until after we get through the lunch rush?” She didn’t even look at him.
“I think you can spare two minutes. How about if we go to your office?”
Her office? So it really was going to be a showdown. She clenched her teeth and turned the work over to Gary, her assistant, before whirling and heading for her office. Harrison followed along and after he shut the door to the kitchen, she turned on him, “I’m running a little behind right now. I really can’t spare the time, so spit it out.”
“I just spoke with Rulon.”
She knew it. “And he’d be the reason I’m behind. What, did he come whining that I yelled at him?” She put her hands on her hips and glared at Harrison, the gorgeous idiot. The way his brown hair fell over his eyes always got to her, but she did her best to ignore it now.
“He said you yelled at him in front of everyone.” Harrison stood casually, his hands in his pockets. He always started out like this, employing the take-it-easy approach, like his vegan, Mother Earth-type mother taught him, but it never lasted long. The muscle beside his eye twitched, a dead giveaway that he was already mad.
“Right, because he put dill in the chicken salad. Dill. Really? It was supposed to be tarragon, and he used twice what he should have in the first place, and it was totally unusable. I had to send Gillian to Denver to get more chicken because we’re now short for the lunch we’re catering this afternoon. That’s several hundred dollars in ruined ingredients and over five man hours of wasted time that we’re having to make up because he’s totally inept.” That included the hour’s drive to Denver, but Rosemary had to pay Gillian for the day and her gas, didn’t she?
Harrison’s lips pressed together. He never did approve of her leadership tactics. “You should have brought him in here to fire him.”
She knew she should have handled it better, but didn’t appreciate Harrison telling her how to deal with her staff—even if he was the director of HR. “I didn’t have the time or the patience. It’s not like this is the first time he’s done something stupid that’s cost us. I was more than understanding on the previous three occasions.” But today she had been primed to blow. Learning about the Markhams had honed the fine edge of her temper and she hadn’t been in control of herself.
“Nevertheless.”
She cut him off before he could continue. “Don’t you nevertheless me. I don’t have time to deal with this. Write me up if you want, whatever, I don’t care. I have food to get out. If you’ll excuse me.” She tried to push past him, tears starting to prickle her eyes, but he latched onto her upper arm.
“Whoa. You need to calm down if you’re going back out there.” His voice was low and even. “This is a problem waiting to happen.”
“I can’t calm down.” She sucked in a breath and blinked rapidly, but a tear spilled over anyway.
“Hold on. What’s wrong?” His grip was loose, but secure, an odd combination, and his voice shifted from controlled to soothing. “You’re not upset about lunch are you?”
She wiped at her cheek, flicking the tear away. “Don’t be stupid. You think I can’t deal with an employee? Everything isn’t about this place, you know—even if you don’t have a life outside the hotel.” She yanked on her arm and he let go.
Stealing herself for the chaos of her kitchen, she pushed out of the office and went back to work. It was the best cure for grief, and a distraction from her worry about what would happen to Don and Cecelia’s little girl.
Harrison watched everyone around the table at the morning meeting. As the director of HR, he was in the executive meeting with the other department heads—which involved all of the DiCarlo sisters, including his half-sister Sage. The DiCarlos were an odd assortment of women—none of whom currently used the last name, though they were often collectively called by it since it was their father’s. As Sage’s half brother by his mother, he often got included in family events, even though he wasn’t actually related to the rest of them.
He’d kept an eye on Rosemary during the meeting, noticing the way she seemed distracted and only paid real attention when it was her time to give a report. That wasn’t like her, and she looked even more wan and tired than usual. She didn’t eat enough—she’d been losing weight since he’d met her again in July and it was starting to worry him.
“Anything else?” Lana asked. She was the hotel manager, though chronologically she was in the middle of the six sisters.
“I’m leaving for DC tomorrow morning and will be gone for a couple of days at least,” Rosemary said. “Gary will handle things while I’m away.” She referenced her assistant, who was perfectly capable of running the kitchen while she was out—though she rarely gave him a chance to prove himself.
Harrison wanted to ask what was going on, but knew better when no one else at the table looked surprised—which meant he was probably the only one out of the loop. That bothered him, despite their strained relationship, but he pushed it away.
It wasn’t the first time she’d made a trip back to DC since they started the hotel, but she didn’t seem nearly as excited about it as usual, and he hadn’t heard about it in advance this time. He remembered the way she’d teared up in her office the previous day when he’d confronted her. It was out of character for the tough-as-nails persona she projected. He wondered if her mom was sick or something—that wou
ld explain why she was the only one of the girls’ mothers who didn’t come for the opening gala.
The meeting broke up and he walked back downstairs with Sage and her husband Joel, who was head of security. Harrison waited until the others were out of earshot before asking, “So what’s up with Rosemary? She looks like death warmed over.”
Sage shot him a surprised look. “You haven’t heard? Some people she was close to back home were killed in that bombing that killed the Minnesota senator.”
Word about the bombing had come two days earlier, and yesterday, when she was upset and at the point of tears, she must have already known about her friends. It made Harrison feel like such a jerk. But she made him feel that way on a regular basis, so that was hardly new. “No wonder she’s upset.”
“Yeah. So go easy on her, will you?” Sage’s voice was light, but he could tell from the worry lines around her eyes that she was worked up about it.
He nodded. “See you guys later.” He was at the point where he had to turn into his own hallway. There was a pile of work on his desk, but it wasn’t foremost on his mind anymore. The blond woman he had brought to tears the previous day, however, was very much in his consciousness. She always was, seldom leaving him alone for long, but this was something more. If only he’d known the day before, he would have handled it differently.
Too late for that, though. Too late for a lot of things. Considering the way she never let her guard down, even for a second, he doubted that would change.
Reclaiming His Bride (DiCarlo Brides book 3) (The DiCarlo Brides) Page 22
