Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“Danielle,” Seymour says. The man-child’s forced deep voice makes my brow twitch, but I manage to keep my face blank aside from that. “I’ve gotten a complaint about you from a hotel guest. A very important hotel guest.”
My heart drops down to my stomach as I sit up a little straighter, crossing one leg over the other as I clear my throat. I try not to show my alarm as I shrug my shoulders, keeping my face as neutral as possible.
“Oh, really? What was the complaint? Did I forget to hang some towels straight? Did I forget to take out the trash in someone’s room? I apologize for the oversight,” I murmur, trying to make it seem as if I’m thinking things over out loud.
“No, it’s a much bigger issue than just forgetting to take out the trash,” the greasy man says while glowering ominously. I swallow thickly, trying my best not to look nervous.
“Um well, what is it then?” I question.
“It’s the guest staying in the presidential suite,” Seymour starts, sending me a hard look. “He says that you rummaged through his belongings while you were cleaning his room.”
I gasp, my brows furrowing as my mouth flies open in shock. Now that I certainly did not do! I didn’t touch any of his personal items! Everything I cleaned or rearranged was hotel property, and I definitely didn’t go snooping through anyone’s things! He must have me mistaken for someone else.
“Mr. Hinds, I swear, I didn’t touch any of his stuff–”
“He seems to think that you did, and he wants you fired for it.”
My eyes practically bulge out of my head at the sound of that threat. I can’t lose this job! I enjoy working here, and I don’t want to be fired over something that I didn’t even do! Besides, given the tight job market, I know I can’t find anything else right now.
“You can’t fire me! I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Seymour shrugs.
“Oh really? You know, you should be thankful that you have an incredible boss like me, Danielle,” my manager smirks as he slowly stands up and waltzes toward me. He perches himself up on the edge of his desk and crosses his arms over his chest as he stares down at my shrinking form. “Any other manager would have fired you immediately just to appease the guest, but I was kind enough to fight for your job here. I pleaded for leniency on your behalf, and I must have been pretty damn convincing because the guest agreed.”
“Okay,” I say in a slow voice. “So I get to keep my job?”
“Yes. The guest is willing to accept an apology from you–in person. After that, your job should be safe. Because of me,” he reminds me once again.
“Thank you so much!” I murmur, blinking with astonishment. “I’ll go apologize right now. Just let me know his name. I’ll even write a note of apology if you think it would help.”
“No, no,” Seymour says while rolling his eyes. “No note necessary. I’m sure he’ll be fine with a verbal apology. But Danielle, I want you to know that I don’t do anything for anyone for free.”
My stomach heaves as I turn to look at him with a wary expression.
“What are you saying, Mr. Hinds?”
He smirks.
“What I’m saying is that I want a date with you, Ms. Smythe. You and me, in a romantic setting.”
“A date?” I ask in a faint voice as he nods.
“Yes, and don’t sound so surprised. It’s the least you can do since I saved your job. You owe me, Danielle. Besides, there are thousands of women who probably wish they could be in your position right now. I mean, look at me,” he smirks as he waves a hand up and down his body. “I’m a successful businessman, I’m loaded with cash, and I’m as handsome as handsome gets! I’m every woman’s fantasy.”
Not quite. Seymour is as skinny as a skeleton, as pale as a ghost, and as greasy as a McDonald’s fry basket. I wouldn’t exactly label the scrawny, self-important nuisance as ‘every woman’s fantasy’. But he’s right–he did save my job so I do owe him.
I swallow down the bile that threatens to come up my throat as I think about having to sit across from him at a dinner table in a cheap restaurant for who knows how many hours, listening to him brag about his not-so-impressive accomplishments and talk about just how great he thinks he is. I can already see it now. He’ll spend the whole time kissing his own ass and then he’ll make me pay for my half of dinner before asking me if I want to go home with him.
I barely manage to contain my gag as I send him a stiff nod. “Okay. I’ll go on a date…I guess…” I mutter before turning to leave quickly.