Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Don’t tell me you’re drunk too?” he growls as soon as I’m in my seat.
“Would you let me nap if I was?”
The grim look on his face says hell no.
“I figured you needed one of us sober. She’s not a big drinker, normally. She just got a little carried away by the free cocktails.” Then I remember he’s our boss. I shut up. “Don’t worry about Jenn. She’ll be fine by the time we land. She’s kind of a nervous flier—”
“You worry too much. I’m not half the tyrant everyone says, and I only expect you to work on this flight. Not Miss Landers.”
Oh, peachy keen.
“How generous,” I spit back. “What are we reviewing, anyway?”
“I’ve forwarded you all the negative publicity for the Winthrope Chicago. It’s a new hotel, barely three years old, and impeccably designed. None of it makes any damn sense unless we’re being ratfucked.”
Here we go.
More conspiracies.
I should have brought my tinfoil hat to block the radio signals the reviewers are beaming directly into his head.
I open my laptop and start reading what he’s sent.
Another dismal review calling the restaurant slow and disgusting.
A supposed case of food poisoning from an order of duck eggs.
A review whining about 'shabby' towels with three loose threads.
The horror!
So maybe he has a few reasons to be annoyed, even if everything except the towel review seems sadly plausible after the mix-up in Lanai.
“Thoughts?” he asks about twenty minutes later.
“Well, hear me out,” I say, meeting his eyes. “What if this amazing hotel just isn’t as great as it’s supposed to be?”
“Excuse me?”
This is obviously a sore spot for him. I read up on the planning and expense that went into developing this place.
I make my voice as gentle as possible. “I’m sure the building itself is gorgeous. But is it possible there’s a problem with management? Maybe you just need to retrain some staff?”
“This was my grandfather’s goodbye project. He made sure everything was unimpeachable, including the staff, because he thought it might be his life’s capstone.” He drums his fingers on the armrest like a big cat slapping its tail in irritation. “Believe me, Miss Renee, he spared no detail. Yet somehow, the menu developed by world-renowned celebrity chefs is apparently causing food poisoning. The facilities are a Beatrice Nightingale Brandt design. Yes, the famous architect. My grandparents wouldn’t have put A-list ads in every high-profile magazine in North America and Europe if they thought there was a chance anything about this hotel might be less than breathtaking. I’m a hundred percent sure of it.”
I don’t know what to say.
He’s vibrating pure rage like a confused beast with its paw caught in a trap.
Humans still make mistakes, I want to point out, no matter how good they are. But he’s already seething, defensive, and grumpier than ever, and it’s not even lunchtime yet.
“I’m sure it’s a masterpiece. Look, I’ve never seen a Winthrope resort that didn’t look fabulous, but if we do find real kinks in the armor, you’d be willing to work them out, right?”
He studies my face so intently I almost squirm in my seat.
“Of course. You really think there’s something wrong with the hotel?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been. I just think if you’re not willing to consider all possibilities and you get caught up in this, um...cloak and dagger stuff, it could be hard to steer the reviews back on track. At least with factors you can control.”
I’m surprised he nods, stroking his chin like he’s actually listening.
“I don’t think these disasters are real. The head manager oversaw our Times Square property for more than a decade before coming to Chicago. He was selected because that property had rock-solid ratings and led the whole Winthrope pack for years. It was a well-oiled machine, easy to leave in new hands, and my grandparents believed he could bring the same magic to Chicago. Still, on the off chance we find a genuine problem, I’ll handle it.” He goes quiet, but doesn’t close his mouth.
“But?”
“I don’t think it’s likely, Miss Renee. I know you’d have me committed if it was up to you for going on this quest—you and Keenan both—but I’m certain these shitty reviews aren’t natural. That’s why we’re going there personally to find out.”
His eyes skim over me. I shiver.
Honestly, I hope we find something for his sake.
He’s slowly driving himself crazy over this.
“Another thing,” he bites off.
“Yes?”
“You never sent me whatever it was your family needed,” he says sternly.
I laugh. “Oh, no. Not this again. I told you I wouldn’t.”
“You did, and your modesty is admirable and annoying. Let me help,” he rumbles.
It’s shocking how easily we slip into another staring contest.
But my eyes don’t waver as I say, “Seriously, don’t. It’s none of your business. I don’t need my boss charging to the rescue every time my father—”