“Much like your new hairdo,” Joel mumbled into his napkin, prompting more laughter.
Ignoring him, she shifted her gaze to Samantha Riggs, director of sales. “How’s business, Sam?”
“Never better,” Sam replied, completely at ease in full Klingon war regalia, including the lumpy forehead mask. “If the Trekkies are happy with the way we handle the regional conference, we’re bound to get the business of the Droids and the Fantasms.” She adjusted her chain-metal sash for emphasis.
Cindy hoped her smile wasn’t as shaky as it felt. Although the buying power and loyalty of the role-playing groups was strong, she’d heard the hotel was getting quite a reputation at headquarters as well—as the Final Frontier.
Sam counted off on her black-tipped fingernails as she spoke. “The crystal readers will be here at the end of the week, the vampires are arriving at midnight on Saturday and the adult toy trade show starts next Monday.”
Panic seized Cindy. “Adult toys next Monday?”
“Isn’t that corporate fellow arriving next Monday?” Joel asked casually, reaching for a honey cruller.
Cindy nodded, trying to mask her alarm. She didn’t mind hosting the X-rated trade show, but the timing couldn’t have been any worse.
“Let’s hope he has a sense of humor,” Amy chirped.
“And a sex life,” Manny interjected.
“Don’t worry,” Joel said, “Cindy has cornered the market on celibacy.”
“You’re a laugh a minute, Joel,” Cindy said dryly, ignoring the burst of applause. Joel and his wife were constantly trying to fix her up, but their matchmaking attempts had produced one disaster after another. “Sam, let’s keep the trade show as low-profile as possible, okay?”
Sam nodded convincingly. “You want low-profile, Cindy—you got low-profile.”
“Said the woman in the Klingon costume,” Manny pointed out.
“Hey, whatever makes the customer happy,” Sam said smoothly.
Cindy looked to William Belk, director of engineering, a burly fellow who rarely spoke. Smiling broadly, she asked, “William, how goes the search for the perfect lobby Christmas tree?”
He glanced around uneasily, twisting his cap in his big hands. “The nursery is still looking.”
Cindy’s stomach pitched. “We’re running out of days in the month of December,” she said with mustered good humor. “I’d like to see the tree up and decorated before our visitors arrive next Monday.”
“Uh, yeah.”
She smiled tightly and wrote herself a note to follow up with the nursery. After discussing a few administrative details with the comptroller and the human resources manager, she glanced at Joel and lifted one corner of her mouth. “Would you like to close out the meeting, or is my hair too distracting?”
“I’ll try to be strong,” Joel responded fiercely, then added, “Farrah.”
Cindy rolled her eyes heavenward. “Start with banquets.”
“Booked to 90 percent through New Year’s.”
She blinked. “Great. The restaurant?”
He pushed a newspaper article toward her. “The Chronicle gave us a mediocre review.”
“That beats the flogging they gave us last spring,” she said. “Anything else?”
“I doubt I’m the only one wondering about this axman, Stanton.”
Cindy glanced around the room, which had suddenly grown so quiet she could hear her hair moaning. After a deep breath, she rested her elbows on the table. “The corporate review was next on the agenda, but I’m glad you brought it up, Joel.” She wet her lips. “As most of you know, a third-party firm has been hired to study select properties under the corporate umbrella.” She smiled. “And we’re one of the lucky ones—the Chandelier House is going to be treated to the works.”
Cindy counted on fingers that hadn’t seen a manicure in months. “An audit of our accounting procedures, our reservations process, sales, customer service—if we do it, it’s going to be scrutinized.”
Manny cleared his throat. “Is there a reason we’re being studied so closely?”
Cindy clasped her hands in front of her. “The inspection might be related to the fact that I’ve resisted efforts to change the way the hotel does business.”
“And that you have breasts,” Amy muttered.
“I have no reason to believe this has anything to do with me being a woman,” Cindy said with sincerity, then grinned and pointed her thumb toward the slight curves beneath her jacket. “Besides, your point is debatable.”
Laughter eased the tension in the room.
“They want to turn us into a cookie-cutter corporate operation,” Joel supplied.
Cindy weighed her words. “It would seem that headquarters would like for us to conform more to a corporate profile, yes.” She forced optimism into her voice, then swept her gaze around the room. “A Mr. Stanton is scheduled to arrive next Monday with an examination team. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he arrives a few days early to check us out. Let me know if you notice anyone suspicious.”
“Should we be worried?” Amy asked, massaging her temples. “I think I’m getting a migraine.”
“We should all be aware,” Cindy corrected gently. “Aware that everything we do will be under a microscope. As soon as Mr. Stanton arrives, I’ll call an executive committee meeting and make the proper introductions.” She conjured up an encouraging smile. “Now, if there’s nothing else—”
“Whoa,” Joel said, raising his hand. “Don’t forget about the Christmas party tomorrow night.”
Cindy nearly groaned. Nothing could have been further from her mind. “How could we forget?” she croaked.
“With cutbacks on the horizon, should we bring a bag lunch?” Sam asked.
Everyone laughed, but Cindy shook her head emphatically.
“Forget the lunch,” Joel said, “but feel free to bring a date for Cindy.”
Amid the laughter, Cindy narrowed her eyes at Joel. “You are treading on thin ice.” She smacked her hand on the table. “This meeting is adjourned.”
As everyone filed out of the room, Joel fell in step beside her and she poked him in the shoulder. “What makes you so sure I’m not bringing a date? It just so happens that I might.”
Joel’s look of incredulity made her wish she actually did have a date. And the flash of Eric Quinn’s face in her mind exasperated her further. “You don’t have a date,” Joel scoffed. “Name one eligible bachelor in this town you haven’t neutered with indifference. Your name is on the bathroom wall—for a hard time, call Cindy Warren.”
“You flatter me.”
“Cindy, if you bring a date tomorrow night—” He looked toward the ceiling. “I’ll cover for you all day Wednesday.”
She straightened. Since her home consisted of a small suite near the top of the hotel, excursions outside the walls—especially for an entire day—were rare. This could be her last chance to go Christmas shopping before the hotel descended into seasonal chaos. “You’d cover my office calls?”
“Yep.”
Her last chance to buy a few casual clothes before she headed home to Virginia on Christmas