by Debra Kayn
“Screw them,” she mumbled.
They could crack their jokes, punch each other’s shoulders, and share a beer over how naïve she seemed if they wanted to because none of it mattered. She got the job, she got the tracking bracelet, and time would show them both that they couldn’t break her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Three days after getting the managerial position at the hotel, Ava sat relaxed in the extra chair in Gram’s room at Shady Oak. The GPS device worked wonderful, and five minutes after putting the hardware on Gram's ankle, Gram forgot all about it. Ava rearranged her hair over her shoulder and smiled. Even though Gram floated between reality and the past, she was in a good mood and it was contagious.
“Looks like we both have something to be happy about today.” She linked her fingers with Gram’s. “Now that I have a permanent high-paying job, I'll have more free time to spend with you. I thought this weekend we could walk along the beach. The weather is supposed to be warm, and the kite club is going to put on a show for all the tourists.”
“Remember when you spent all your allowance buying all the spools of string you could find around town?” Gram laughed. “Didn’t you lose the kite in the ocean?”
“I did.” She grinned. “It took me three hours to wind up the string, but I never did find the kite.”
Gram patted her hand. “I remember.”
“The next day, you bought me a new kite to replace the one I lost.” She smiled.
Gram made her childhood the best. When other parents were busy working and leading their own lives, Gram had taken her job as guardian to a new level. There were always cookies in the oven, long talks during their nightly walks along the shore, and an I-love-you each morning. Gram made up for missing parents she couldn’t remember and gave her a unique family of her own.
Gram gazed out the window. “You better close the shutters. Looks like a storm is brewing. The boats have gone out to sea.”
The clear blue sky, calm breeze, and full sunlight streaming into the room said differently. Ava stood. Her shift started in a half hour.
“I’ll do that, Gram.” She leaned down and kissed Gram’s cheek. “I love you.”
Gram frowned. Her gaze locked on the window. “Hurry. Your dad will be home soon. We’ll have to put the potatoes on to boil if we want to eat before the power goes out.”
Ava slipped out of the room, leaving the door open enough for the nurses to peek in as they hustled about their job. She walked outside and peered up at the sky. Poor Gram. Despite the doctors reassuring her that in Gram’s world, she viewed her abstract time with fond memories, it was obvious to Ava that Gram spent most of her waking hours stuck in the past, where she remembered the love of her parents, her husband, her kids. It was time for Ava to move on. She had her whole life ahead of her to make her own memories.
A break in traffic came, and she crossed the road. Her purse hung motionless at her side as she headed toward the Holland Hotel. Her feet led her, but her heart dragged along the sidewalk. She’d called herself all kinds of a fool for falling for Hank.
She looked out at the sandy beach. Her heart skipped a beat. The soft, tender touches, the excitement of hiding their attraction from everyone, and the long, heated looks they’d exchanged had given her the most exhilarating times of her life.
Until, she’d learned the truth about Hank’s part in the test.
Two vans blocked the entrance to the hotel. She glanced at the guests out enjoying the day, and walked along the boardwalk. She’d enter through the employee door in the back, and wait until her shift officially started.
Outside the door, the bush to her left wiggled and a low moan came from farther back. She squinted and held herself still, straining to pick up the sound again.
“Dammit.”
A cold, hot flash prickled her skin. She’d know the deep, gravelly voice anywhere.
“Riley, get your ass back in here.” Hank growled or maybe that was Mr. Holland’s dog making the noise, she couldn't be sure.
She stepped closer, pinched a leaf between her thumb and finger, and pulled the branch down. The foliage too thick to see through, she pushed her other hand into the shrub and peeked into Mr. Holland's private area.
Hank squatted in front of Riley, shaking his hand. His brows furrowed in pain. She sucked in her bottom lip. He deserved much more than a nip.
Something tapped her shoulder. She screamed and whirled around.
Mr. Holland put his finger in front of his lips and shook his head. “Quiet.”
She pressed her hand to her chest. “You scared me to death,” she whispered.
He motioned her to follow him around the building. She trailed after him, as if he caught her stealing a hotel robe. She had the right to walk wherever she wanted on the hotel property. Just because she spied Hank hidden in Riley’s outside play area didn’t mean she was doing anything wrong. Besides, if Hank planned to stay at the hotel, she had vacation time coming.
“Sorry.” Mr. Holland blew out his breath. “I had no idea Hank decided to come to the hotel this morning. I thought he'd stay gone longer than three days."
“Is he staying?” She pursed her lips.
Mr. Holland grimaced and nodded. “He says he is, but I need you to work.”
“No way.” She stepped back. “We had an agreement.”
“I know, but with me being gone last week and the hotel filling up for this weekend’s art show on the boardwalk, I need you.” Mr. Holland lowered his voice, “Besides, I think I have a way for you to get back at Hank for what he did to you.”
“What he did?” She shook her head. “You helped him!”
“I know, but I have a way for you to get past your feelings for Hank.”
“I don’t care about him anymore. Whatever we had or I thought we had, is....” She glanced away.
“Then pay him back.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Make him suffer.”
“Spoken like a true brother.” She rolled her eyes. “I thought you loved him.”
“I do.” His grin turned to serious. “He’s in love with you. That’s why he came back. Hank comes to the hotel two, three times a year at most and that’s mostly when my mom comes back from traveling the world and he can visit with her. The ranch is his life.”
“Why did he come back this time?”
“You,” he said.
She blew out her lips. “Right.”
“I’m not the one you should hear it from, so I’ll let him tell you.”
“No! I’ll finish today’s shift, because I don’t want to leave you stranded but if he’s still here tomorrow, I’m taking the day off. And you do whatever you have to do to keep him away from me. I don't want to see or talk with him.” She walked away, ignoring the commotion in the bushes, and entered the hotel.
She pushed the private elevator button, and rode it up to the main floor. Angry with herself for going back on her demands, she shoved her purse in her cabinet and slammed the door. With Hank in the hotel, the three-story building seemed small and inadequate. How was she going to keep her distance?
George strolled into the employee lounge, whistling. She glanced over her shoulder and pretended everything was all right.
“Morning, Ava.” George removed his suit coat from his locker. “It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining, and people are happy. Makes a person glad to be alive.”
She picked up her phone. “If you say so…”
George stepped in front of her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything is fine, George.” She patted his arm through her irritations.
He seemed to study her. “Time for us to get to work.”
“Yes.” She followed him out of the room.
First thing to do was check the roster. Satisfied that Sally took care of all the guests’ complaints, and any problems were addressed, she moved over and read through the list of needs. Mr. Soroff from Los Angeles had a wakeup call scheduled
for noon.
“Sally?” She tapped the computer screen. “What’s this? I’ve never heard of a room one-one-two. That would be on the first floor in Mr. Holland’s private quarters. Did he want to see me?”
“The message was there when I arrived this morning. Since it had your name addressed to it, I didn’t ask," Sally said.
“Hm.” She pushed Mr. Holland’s number on her phone. “It’s Ava. Did you need me downstairs?”
“No. Why?” Mr. Holland asked.
“There’s a message that I’m supposed to go to room one-one-two, and I was wondering if that was your office downstairs.” She exited the screen.
“I’m afraid that’s Hank. He stays in the guest room on the first floor.”
“Oh.” She inhaled sharply. “I’ll ignore that message then. Thank you.”
“Ava…”
She scrunched up her nose. “What?”
“I’m telling you, the best way to get back at Hank is to play the same kind of game. Don’t you want to see him suffer?”
Did she? He had no idea the amount of embarrassment and pain he’d caused her. Each time she came into the hotel the last few days, she wondered how many people knew what had happened between them. It was hard enough facing Mr. Holland and George each day, knowing her secret about sleeping with Hank wasn't much of a secret anymore.
“I don’t condone violence,” she whispered, turning her back to a guest.
Mr. Holland laughed. “That’s the spirit. Meet me in my office during your first break.”
She hung up.
It was official. She’d lost her mind. But, a tiny glimmer of satisfaction wiggled inside of her, and she inhaled deeper than she had all week.
She had no desire to forgive Hank. What he’d done to her put her job at risk, not to mention broke her heart. She could’ve lost her chance at the job and ruined everything. The chaos of having two hundred guests unable to eat dinner or missing their flights would’ve brought the hotel down. A good reputation took work. A bad reputation destroyed businesses. That’s what the employee handbook stated.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The next day, an hour before her shift started, Ava stood at the end of the first floor hallway, near the elevator, waiting to do her part in the first trick to pay Hank back for all the trouble he’d caused her. Her stomach growled. Fear of running into Hank all day yesterday, coupled with skipping out of the hotel on her breaks to hide from him left her empty inside.
How did he remain cold and indifferent knowing how much stress he caused her? She stopped pacing. He’d seemed so caring and attentive earlier, but maybe that was part of his charade. He’d made her feel special, but she should’ve seen what he was doing.
The door at the end of the hall opened. George and Mr. Holland scrambled out, smashing into each other. She shook her head in irritation. Could they be any louder?
Mr. Holland grinned and George laughed, clapping his boss on the back. She hushed them.
“Sorry.” George held out two shirts. “You should’ve seen him.”
“Hank?” She snatched the clothes out of his hand. “I thought you were sneaking in. Wasn’t that the whole point of not getting caught?”
“Don't worry, he never saw us.” Mr. Holland passed over Hank’s pair of cowboy boots. “He was in the bedroom, talking on the phone.”
“He’s hiring a private detective, you know.” George fairly giggled.
“Why?” She hugged the boots to her chest. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”
“It is now.” Mr. Holland slung his arm across George’s shoulders. “Apparently, my brother can’t find you at the hotel, and he doesn’t believe me when I tell him you’re working. He thinks you ran out of town, so in true Hank fashion, he's hiring someone to track you down.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “Okay. We’re going too far with this stupid idea of yours.”
“Oh, no, no.” George turned her around and gave her an encouraging push. “You’re doing the right thing. Trust us. He can spare the money. Now it's your turn to do your thing with his clothes.”
She left them chuckling like two idiots and rode the elevator down to the basement. The one time she allowed others to help her, and she questioned her own sanity. She leaned against the railing. Hank was going to kill them all. Although, she had to admit, it felt nice to have two other people on her side and the responsibility of what they were doing off her shoulders for once in her life.
In fact, now that Mr. Holland informed her that he'd planned to hire her all along, she'd started giving more responsibility to the staff and found herself more relaxed. She had no idea how big a load she'd carried the last several years by herself. The door dinged and opened. She walked out into the hallway. Maybe if she would've relied on others in the first place, she wouldn't be in this mess with Hank.
She opened the door to the laundry room. The cleaning staff wouldn’t come in until seven, so she had the place to herself. She stuffed Hank’s shirts in the washer, picked up the box Mr. Holland gave her earlier, and eyed it suspiciously before dumping half the contents over the clothes. Oh, God.
Unable to face what she did, she slammed the lid down. Now she had to hide his boots somewhere he wouldn’t think to look. She gazed around the room. There!
Between the duct of the furnace and the humongous electrical box sat an old silver cart with double doors at the bottom. Covered in dust, the delivery cart appeared as if it hadn’t been touched in a long time. He’d never think to look there. She carefully pulled the doors open, stuffed his boots inside, and brushed her hands off.
Since Mr. Holland said he’d dry Hank’s clothes and ask the personnel to iron everything, she was free to start work. She walked to the elevator, pushed the button, and stepped inside.
“Ava! Thank God.” Hank pushed off the back of the elevator wall.
She turned to leave but the doors slid closed, trapping her inside. Shit.
“Darlin’, you have no idea how hard I’ve been trying to find you.” He turned her around, pulled her against him. “Hell, I thought you’d quit, and Drake was lying to me.”
She planted her hand on his bare chest and pushed herself away. “What are you doing?”
“I was heading down to take a swim, hoping I’d catch you before you were scheduled to work.” He frowned. “Let me take you to breakfast.” He glanced down at the swim shorts he’d borrowed from Drake and groaned. “Dammit. I sent all my clothes to the laundry room. I only planned to stay a night, talk to you, and then head back to the ranch. I didn’t think it would take this long to finally find you.”
She clamped her teeth together. Whatever he said to her would not make up for what he’d done. She’d heard the whole pathetic story from Mr. Holland.
“Listen. Can we talk? We’ll go back to my room.” He trailed his hand down her arm.
She shook her head and stepped back, banging against the door. “There’s nothing to say. I have to go to work.”
The elevator dinged. The door skimmed across her back, and she dove out of the elevator. Wrong floor, but she’d take the stairs.
“Ava?” Hank called.
She ignored him and once in the stairwell, she grasped onto the railing as if her whole world rumbled. Her heart beat against her chest, and her legs shook. The palm of her hand burned where she’d touched his warm skin. His chest hair tickled, and instantly had her remembering the night she’d straddled him, holding onto his body, and enjoying the way he filled her completely.
All of his lies meant nothing. He’d played along with his brother, and slept with her under the guise of being attracted to her. He couldn’t outrun a cowboy’s reputation. Mr. Holland knew how women threw themselves at Hank, and used him for a selfish purpose. She needed the managerial job, or she’d quit on principle alone.
She hurried up the stairs, and hid behind the counter. The way her hands shook, she’d be lucky to get any work done.
“Late night?” Sally smiled.
Never mind that she’d finally fallen asleep at three am after tossing and turning most of the night, because she had second thoughts about what Mr. Holland talked her into doing to Hank. She pulled out the spreadsheet. She and Sally had become friends over the last month, but confiding in her about man problems would have to wait.
“Uh oh.” Sally elbowed her.
She glanced up, caught Sally’s nod to look behind her, and turned. She gasped. Hank strode across the lobby, barefooted, and wearing only his swimming trunks. His gaze bore into hers. She reached out and grabbed Sally’s hand for support.
He leaned against the counter. “Can we please talk?”
“I-I can’t. I’m working.” She squared her shoulders.
“I don’t give a shit what my brother has you doing.” His gaze narrowed. “I want to explain.”
“Ava?” Sally murmured. “Who’s his brother?”
“Sally, this is Mr. Holland’s brother.” Ava crossed her arms. “He seems to have an identity crisis.”
Sally gasped. “Ava. He’s a guest.”
“No. He’s not.” Ava picked up the phone. “Hello, this is Ava at the front desk. We need security here A.S.A.P. Thank you.”
Sally grabbed the phone out of her hand. “What are you doing? Mr. Holland is going to find out about this and fire you.”
“Let him try.” Ava leaned forward, almost nose to nose with Hank. “Everything you have to tell me was said the last time I saw you, before you left to go back to your ranch, and after you finished the job for your brother. We have nothing more to say to each other.”
“Ava, you don’t understand. I was—”
Two men flanked his sides and slipped their hands under his arms. Ava tilted her head and smiled.
“If you’ll please come with us, sir.” The guard pulled him away from the counter.
