by Debra Kayn
He’d bet a thousand dollars, going by the way she kept staring at him when he peeled off his shirt, that she’d be willing to have a little fun when her day job ended. He sighed and let his arms float in the water. She had no reason to learn Drake was making him put her through random tests to see if she qualified for the job.
The first thing he would do is find out if she’d unclip all her blonde hair and let it fall down her back. Once he stripped her out of the almost prudish hotel outfit, he’d bet the ranch her curves kept coming. He couldn’t stop his imagination from going further. He flexed his fingers. Yeah, he relished the idea of exploring her soft body.
His gut tightened, and he realized the hot tub got his mind off his aches and pains, but did nothing toward helping him get to know Ava better in person. He climbed out of the tub, walked back into the suite dripping water in his path, and hit the shower. He scrubbed the shampoo into his hair. The way Ava rattled off the welcome message and saw to his comfort gave him hope that there were more of his needs she’d take into consideration.
Drake underestimated Hank. They might be half-brothers, and he might not be involved in the everyday running of the hotel, but he’d never let that stop him from enjoying the hotel's amenities, a lesson his brother never learned. He’d not only see to the conference and make sure the Holland Ranch stayed running, but he’d handle Ava too. He shut off the water, and stepped out of the shower.
A knock on the door came after he'd pulled a clean pair of jeans over his hips. He strolled over and opened the door. George pushed his way past Hank into the room.
He stepped back. “In a hurry?”
He’d known George for years, and he would even admit to causing the man problems in the past when he was young and wild. He’d spent a lot of time here with Drake and his mom after Theresa divorced his dad, and all his angst over traveling back and forth between his family members came out in typical teenage rebellion. George ran interference between him and Drake more times than he'd like to remember.
In their younger years, he and his brother looked more alike and used their similarities to their advantage when it came to the opposite sex. He grinned. They couldn’t do that anymore. Drake had gained thirty pounds in the time they’d grown apart, and preferred buying his clothes from some guy who enjoyed a tape measure a little too much. Whereas Hank grabbed a pair of Levi’s off a shelf before turning the lights on, and wore his flannel shirts with holes every day.
“I don’t have much time, sir.” George leaned against the back of the lounge chair. “I wanted to let you know that everything is set up the way your brother suggested.”
“Good.” Hank took the towel off his shoulders and rubbed his hair. “Give me the details on Ms. Walsh.”
“Why?” George lifted his chin. “You’re not planning anything that wasn’t talked about, are you? Ava’s a nice girl. Everyone likes her, and she does a fine job. I-I’m pulling for her to get the position. I feel bad enough helping Mr. Holland set her up, I don’t want you to sabotage her job too.”
Hank pretended shock. “You don’t trust me, George?”
“No, sir.” George shook his head. “I know you too well.”
Hank threw the towel on the table. “Simmer down. It was an honest question although I’m sure Ava would be happy to know someone’s going to bat for her. You’re pretty good at keeping people out of trouble, and Drake’s being an ass. Again.”
“Thanks to you and Mr. Holland, I’ve had practice keeping people out of trouble, sir.” George pinned him with a look. “I don’t know much about Ava. She’s friendly, but she never talks about her home life. Sometimes, I think…”
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly. There are things she asks, like how the laundry is handled or well, yesterday, she asked me if the escort service to the airport was included in the room bill.”
“Hm.” Hank sat down on the couch and put his bare feet on the coffee table. “Things a hotel manager should know.”
“Yes.” George shook his head. “Ava’s a smart woman, though. She never asks a question more than once, and she’s willing to learn.”
He frowned. “Can I ask you something, George?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Why haven’t you ever asked Drake to let you take over as the manager?” Hank shrugged. “You’re more than qualified. You know everything about the hotel business, probably better than Drake himself, yet you’re happy being the glorified concierge.”
“I have my reasons.” George straightened.
He harrumphed. “You still have a thing for Drake's mom, and won't upset her by taking control away from Drake when you know damn well, you'd make the hotel flourish.”
It wasn’t a question. George had worshipped Theresa Holland from the moment she stepped into the hotel and announced her separation from Hank’s dad. Theresa had no plans to remarry, and preferred to travel now that Drake was running the show. She also seemed to enjoy keeping George guessing.
“What time is it?” Hank asked.
“Three o’clock.”
He let his head fall back on the couch. “Good. I’ll get dressed, go down to the office, and have a look at her file before I’m needed at dinner. Maybe Drake left something there that would clue me in on why he’s going to such extremes. Knowing Drake, he fell for a pretty face and doesn’t want to be the bad guy if Ms. Walsh isn't competent enough to keep the job.”
George nodded. “I’m going back to work before someone notices I’m gone.”
"Before you leave, are there any other staff members here who'll remember me from my last visit?" he asked.
George shook his head. "Just me, sir. You know how it is for the hotel business in a coastal town. Seasons come and go, so do employees. We rarely keep anyone more than a year."
“Except you." He grinned and relaxed. "At least that's one less thing I have to worry about.”
George hesitated at the door. “If I may say so, Mr. Holland, welcome home.”
He laughed. “Staying at the hotel a few days out of the year doesn’t qualify it as home, George. This is Drake’s place.”
“Never the less. It’s good to see you again.”
It took him five minutes to finish dressing in jeans and a button up shirt. No matter how much Drake stressed the importance of appearance, Hank wasn’t going to put a suit on for anyone, not even his brother. Days like this, it amazed him that they shared a dad.
After thirty-five years of living life out in the country, he was country to the core. He and Drake walked different paths when they reached their teen years. Back when Theresa and their dad divorced, Drake chose to go to the city with his mom. He heard the news, packed, and stood out in the driveway anxious to get away from the ranch. Their personalities hadn't changed.
To this day, Drake turning his back on the ranch remained a sore spot between Cray Holland and his second son. Nothing Hank said or did could get Drake to come back to the family home, not even for a visit. That’s why he went out of his way to help Drake whenever he asked. Maybe this time, Drake would realize he owed him. He wanted his brother back in his life, not just when Drake needed a favor.
He’d almost given up entirely, until he received the phone call from Drake asking him to help evaluate Ava. He tucked his shirt in and fastened his belt. This week was his last attempt at reuniting the family. After the convention, if Drake still refused to reconnect with Dad, he’d drop the subject for good. The thought of losing Drake, a part of himself, hurt. The timing for this favor was perfect, so he’d try one more time to convince Drake to become more involved at the ranch, for everyone’s sake.
He’d have to be careful around Ava though. He slipped the office key ring into his pocket and left the suite. Ava needed to stay in the dark about his connection with Drake. The hotel was big enough for everyone. How hard could it be to keep up the charade?
First thing he needed to do was have the advantage over Ava. He’d find out everything he could about
her, and he’d start in Drake’s office on the first floor. The hotel was built on a cliff, half-underground, and the first floor wasn’t used by guests, it was the floor where Drake had his private quarters. Usually, Hank stayed in one of the rooms down there, but his job of evaluating Ava called for hiding his identity for the scheme to work. He’d have some serious explaining to do if he used his real last name and had access to Drake’s digs.
As it sat now, George was the only one who could tie him to the Holland dynasty. Most of the ranchers attending were on a first name basis with each other, and he'd make sure everyone knew to call him Hank, so as not to confuse him with his father.
He stepped out of the elevator, peered down both sides of the hallway and started walking. The sad part of his whole relationship with his brother was that George probably knew Drake better than he did these days.
He’d almost reached the office door when the click clack of heels echoed around him. He froze with his back toward the sound, slipped the keys into his pocket, and waited.
The footsteps stopped. “Mr. Johnson?”
Shit.
How was he going to explain how he came to be in Drake’s living quarters, or how he used his own personal badge to activate the employees’ elevator?
“Mr. Johnson, I need you to…”
“Shhh.” He held up his hand.
He had to think fast. The more she questioned his sincerity, the harder it would be to continue with Drake’s plan, and then he’d screw up his chance to convince Drake to reconnect with him and their dad.
“Mr. Johnson, please…”
“Just a sec, darlin’. I think I heard something.” He turned around, holding his finger to his lips.
Ava’s eyes rounded, and a flush of pink stained her cheeks. She caught the corner of her lip between her teeth, and he wanted nothing more than to run his finger along those plump lips and put her at ease.
“I heard something strange. Something cried or yelped.” He walked a few feet away, tilting his head from side to side. “From this door.”
“Mr. Johnson, that’s…”
“Call me Hank, please.” He knocked on the door. “I think there’s a dog in there. He may be hurt. Are animals allowed in the hotel?”
She shook her head. “No, and we’re not supposed to be on this floor. This is Mr. Holland’s private area. I only came down here to drop off some papers and now I'm leaving. So if we could leave…please.”
“Are you sure someone didn’t sneak an animal inside? I could’ve sworn I heard a dog yip.” Come on Riley. Don’t let me down.
“Positive.” She gently took his arm and guided him in the other direction. “Let’s go, and you can tell me all about it from the lobby.”
He let her pull him to the elevator he’d used to come down here, and as they walked, he scratched his goatee, dragging his boot heels. “That’s the damnedest thing. I know dogs, and I could’ve sworn I heard one. I hope one didn’t sneak into the hotel and somehow got shut in a room or his collar is stuck and he’s hurting.”
Ava obviously had no idea that Riley, his brother’s cocker spaniel had the run of the whole first floor. Drake even put in a doggy door to a small exercise kennel on the south side of the hotel, hidden behind a chain linked fence and bushes. George and Drake were about the only two who could be around the nippy dog without losing a finger. Riley always managed to bite Hank at least twice every time he stayed at the hotel.
Arf. Arf.
He stopped. “See! That’s a dog, right? I wasn’t imagining it.”
“No. I heard it too.” She frowned and rubbed her forehead. “I’ll check with George and see what’s going on, but you really need to get out of here before anyone sees you. This area is off limits to the guests.”
He stepped into the elevator. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul. I love animals. Someone should be looking out for the little guy…or girl.”
She pushed the second floor button. “How did you get down here anyway?”
“The elevator door was open, and since you brought me up to my suite in it, I hopped inside. I must’ve hit the wrong number because I landed on this floor, and then the dog barked. Well, I wanted to check it out.”
She sighed. “Don’t do that again, please. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to use the main elevator or the stairs from now on. You’ve used the hotel staff elevator. The elevator doors should’ve remained closed.”
“Hey, no harm. I wasn’t going to do anything wrong.” He smiled, but she wasn’t looking at him anymore. Two little wrinkles developed on the bridge of her nose. “You’re upset. What’s wrong? Am I going to get you in trouble, because I came down here? I had no idea I was on the wrong floor.”
“No. Everything is fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” She jumped when the door slid open, and followed him out of the elevator. “I need to hurry back to work. Will you be able to find your way now?”
He nodded.
As she hurried away from him, he frowned. She was a skittish little thing. Not only around him, but also in general. Was she nervous or did she have something to hide?
He waited until she’d rounded the corner out of sight, then swiped his card and slipped back into the elevator. It was time to find out more about Ava Walsh. His suspicion that she was hiding something from Drake grew stronger the more he talked to her. If she were hiding something, he’d start looking for it by reading her employee file.
Chapter Three
The lobby was quiet with all the men shut into the conference room, conversing intently about agriculture guidelines and cattle prices. Ava picked up a stack of folders off the front counter. The dinner routine had gone amazingly smoothly, and it was time to go over tomorrow’s agenda with the other workers.
“Great job today.” She passed the papers to Sally. “Please hand these out to everyone.”
Each of the employees, tired but alert, waited for her to continue. She clutched her hands in front of her and smiled. She gave Mr. Holland credit. He hired the best, and each one of the employees made her job easier.
“Tomorrow’s full day of meetings for the guests will mean a steady stream of people in the restaurant and the lounge asking questions, so we’ll need to be ready. I’ve printed up extra maps and there will be two more hotel cars available in case any of the guests want to go into town during their breaks from the classes.” She inhaled. “I’ll remind you that all problems should be sent to me first. I will do my best to take care of anything that might arise. You’ve all done an excellent job today. Mr. Holland would be proud of each of you.”
“Excuse me, Ava.” George stepped forward from the back of the crowd. “Juan, from security went home ill, so there’s no one in the lounge to oversee the guests who’ll be coming in after the group breaks up for the night.”
“Where’s Steve? Isn’t he on call?” She thumbed through the text messages on her phone. “Why wasn’t I told this earlier?”
“I only found out about it a few minutes ago and came right to you.” George shook his head. “I thought about calling Steve, but with his wife delivering their first baby only two days ago…”
Ava nodded in understanding. “I’ll take care of it. As for the rest of you, thank you for all your hard work, and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”
She waited until the lobby cleared, filled in the head clerk and got her started on the night shift, then headed toward the lounge with the employee handbook clutched to her chest. Tomorrow morning, she’d contact the security agency and ask about having someone else fill in for the rest of the convention. She wasn’t expecting any trouble, but she also knew her five-foot-three inch body would be no way to assert authority if things grew ugly.
The lounge was empty, except for Tony, Glen, and the man running the blackjack table. She slid into a chair in the back of the room at a small, round table. She slipped off her heels and stretched her toes, sighing. Typically, she’d already be back at her house, getting ready to sque
eze under the big, down comforter with the air conditioning unit in her window blasting.
But, her comfortable room at home would have to wait. For this week only, Mr. Holland had assigned her the one honeymoon suite at the hotel for her personal use while he was gone. While the conference was going on, the hotel had no vacancies, and the suite would go unused. A bunch of rowdy cowboys had no use for romance and feminine fantasies.
Despite the plush accommodations, her own bed called her name. If only eight straight hours of sleep would ease the stress her body was under or someone could fast forward her to next Monday when her probation period at the hotel was over.
“You look like you could use this.” Tony set a glass with an umbrella on the table.
“Oh, I can’t.” She pushed it back across the surface toward him. “I’m filling in for security tonight. Juan called in sick and Steve’s on family leave.”
“I’ve already heard about the shortage. There shouldn’t be any problems tonight.” Tony winked. “Go ahead and enjoy the beverage. It’s a virgin Cosmo.”
“Thank you.” She picked up the drink, took two swallows, and smiled. “I think you’re my hero.”
“You and all the other women say that but here I am, working and dateless.” Tony laughed and strolled away.
It took two weeks on the job to learn Tony's bad boy charm and sugarcoated words actually kept him busy fighting the women off. She smiled after him. He wasn’t for her. Losing her job because she fraternized with another employee wasn’t worth risking her house or Gram’s care.
Gram’s declining health in the last five years came fast and unexpected. Ava’s shoulder muscles tensed. She’d thought they’d have more time to get their lives in order but one day Gram woke up but her mind remained sleeping. Ava lived with a stranger who didn’t recognize her, understand her, or love her in the way she was used to anymore.
Call her crazy, but keeping the house and being able to afford the supplemental payments at Sunny Oaks nursing home was something she wanted to do for her and Gram. She owed Gram everything for raising her after her parents died in a car crash when she was two years old.
