Almost everything Julia had done had been self-serving. But then he hadn’t known that in the beginning. He’d thought that she was being unselfish, that she was being honest. And those qualities had attracted him. But it had all been pretence. So what if there didn’t seem to be a deceitful motive behind what Callie was saying? He knew better than anyone else that she might be faking it.
But when he looked at her, into those alluring and devastatingly honest eyes, that thought just didn’t sit right.
‘So,’ he said, sliding his hands into his pockets, ‘I can take it out on you?’
Was he still flirting with her? No, he thought. He wanted to know what she thought he should do about the situation. Yes, that was it—just a test. How would she respond now that she knew he was her boss?
She cleared her throat. ‘If need be, yes. I understand if you feel you need to take disciplinary action, although I don’t believe it’s necessary.’
‘You don’t?’
‘No, sir.’
The word sounded different coming from her, and he wasn’t sure that he liked the way she was defining their relationship.
‘I apologise for my unprofessional behaviour, but I assure you it won’t happen again.’ She looked at him, and this time her eyes pleaded for herself. ‘I didn’t know who you were. Please give me a chance to make this right.’
Blake was big enough a man to realise when he had made a mistake, and the sincerity the woman in front of him exuded told him he had done just that, in spite of his doubts. He straightened, and saw that there was almost no one left in the room for him to meet. Relief poured through him, and finally he gave himself permission to leave.
But before he did, he said, ‘Okay, Miss McKenzie. I believe you. I’ll see you at work on Monday.’
* * *
By eleven o’clock on Monday morning Blake had had enough. He had got in to the office at six and had been poring over the financials since then. Again. But no matter how he looked at it—just as he’d feared the first time he’d reviewed them—there was no denying the fact that this hotel was in serious trouble.
How had he let it get this far? he thought, and walked to the coffee machine in the office he would be sharing with Connor. The man had set up a makeshift space for Blake, which made the place snug, but not unworkable. Right now, he was tempted to have a drink of the stronger stuff Connor kept under lock and key for special occasions—or so he claimed. But even in Blake’s current state of mind he could acknowledge that drinking was not the way to approach this.
With his coffee in his hand, he walked to the window and looked out at the bustle of Cape Town on a Monday morning. The hotel overlooked parts of the business district, and he could feel the busyness of people trying to get somewhere rife in the air as he watched the relays of public transport. But he could also glimpse Table Mountain in the background, and he appreciated the simplicity of its magnitude. It somehow made him feel steadier as he thought about the state the hotel was in.
How had he let this happen?
The thought wouldn’t leave his head. He had picked up that the hotel had been struggling years ago—which was why he had fired Landon and promoted Connor—but still this shouldn’t have got past him. But he knew why it had. And he needed to be honest with himself before he blamed his employees when he was probably just as responsible for this mess.
He had been too focused on dealing with Julia to notice that the business was suffering.
His legs were restless now, as he got to the core of the problem, and he began to pace, coffee in hand, contemplating the situation. About five years ago the Elegance Hotel in Port Elizabeth had started losing staff at a high rate. When he’d noticed how low their retention numbers were, he’d arranged a meeting with HR to discuss it.
It had been at that meeting that he’d first met Julia.
She hadn’t seemed to care that he was her boss, and had pushed the boundaries of what he had considered appropriate professional behaviour. But the reasons she had given him for losing staff had been right, and he’d had to acknowledge that she was an asset to their team. And as soon as he had she’d given him the smile that had drawn him in. Bright, bold, beautiful.
To this day, whenever he thought about that smile he felt a knock to his heart. Especially since those thoughts were so closely intertwined with the way it had softened when she’d looked at her son. The boy who had reminded him eerily of himself, and made him think about how Julia was giving him something Blake never had—a mother.
Until one day it had all shattered into the pieces that still haunted him.
He knew that Julia had taken his attention away from the hotels. And now this hotel was paying the price of a mistake he’d made before he’d known better. The thought conjured up Callie’s face in his mind, but he forced it away, hoping to forget the way her eyes lit up her face when she smiled. He had just remembered the reason he didn’t want to be attracted to her. He didn’t want to be distracted either, and she had the word distraction written all over her beautiful face. And, he reminded himself again, he knew better now.
He grunted at the thought, walked back to the desk, and began to make some calls.
And ignored the face of the woman he had only met a few days ago as it drifted around in his head.
* * *
‘Yes, darling, include that in my trip. I would love to see the mountain everyone keeps harping on about. And please include some cultural museums on my tour.’ The woman sniffed, and placed a dignified hand on the very expensive pearls she wore around her neck. ‘I can’t only be doing touristy things, you know.’
‘Of course, Mrs Applecombe.’ Callie resisted the urge to tell the woman that visiting museums was very much a ‘touristy’ thing. ‘I’ll draw up a package for you and have it sent to your room by the end of the day. If you agree, we can arrange for the tour to be done the day after tomorrow.’
‘Delightful.’ Mrs Applecombe clasped her hands together. ‘I just know Henry will love what we’ve discussed. Just remember, dear, that it’s—’
‘Supposed to be a surprise. I know.’ Callie smiled, and stood. ‘I’ll make sure that it’s everything you could hope for and more.’
After a few more lengthy reminders about the surprise anniversary gift for her husband Mrs Applecombe finally left, and Callie sighed in relief. She loved the woman’s spirit, but after forty minutes of going back and forth about a tour Callie knew she could have designed in her sleep, she needed a break.
Luckily it was one o’clock, which meant she could take lunch. But instead of sneaking into the kitchen, as she did most days, she locked the door to her office and flopped down on the two-seater couch she’d crammed into the small space so that if her guests wanted to they could be slightly more comfortable.
It had been a long morning. She’d done a quick tour first thing when she’d got in, followed by meetings with three guests wanting to plan trips. Usually she would be ecstatic about it. She loved her job. And she had Connor to thank for that.
She sighed, and sank even lower on the couch. Officially she was the ‘Specialised Concierge’—a title she had initially thought pretentious, but one that seemed to thrill many of the more elite guests she worked with at the hotel. Unofficially she was a glorified tour guide, whose brother had persuaded her to work at the hotel to drag her from the very dark place she had been in after their parents’ deaths.
She didn’t have to think back that far to acknowledge that the job had saved her from that dark place. Once she had seen her parents’ coffins descend into the ground—once she had watched people say their farewells and return to their lives as usual—she had found herself slipping. And even though her brother had been close to broken himself, he had stepped up and had helped her turn her life into something