Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
He’d barely looked at me as he left, tossing his key to the table.
“Thanks for nothing,” he’d muttered.
I slumped in my chair, my cup of tea growing cold on the table beside me. I rested my head in my hand, feeling weary and emotional. Drained. More than once, I glanced at my runners, thinking I needed to go and pound the pavement for a while. It always helped clear my head. But I was too tired to bother.
Memories of Brian when we were young played in my head. Before Mum died, even with what Dad did as a job, we were just a normal family. Brian doted on me. Everyone did. I was the baby. He was my big brother, and I adored him. When Mum died, it changed somehow, and he acted younger than I was. Less caring. More dependent. And I allowed it, needing to channel my grief into some other place. I did it by caring for him and Dad.
I spent the day wandering my apartment, straightening the guest room, doing laundry. I wasn’t hungry, but I had some tea and crackers midafternoon, knowing I had to go to the hotel and sing that night. Normally, Fridays and Saturdays were my happy days. I got to perform. Let my voice loose and enjoy. But today, I was finding no joy, only obligation.
But as they said, the show must go on. I showered and dressed casually, walking to the subway and sitting in the back row, the car mercifully empty for this time of day. As the stops rolled past, I recalled meeting with Finn for dinner after my father’s funeral, his offer.
“I bought a hotel. Two, actually,” he informed me.
“Oh. I had no idea you were interested in that sort of business.”
He smiled at me as he poured us some wine. We had met at a small restaurant, Finn not pleased that I wouldn’t allow him to pick me up. But I was trying to draw a line somewhere. It was hard to remember that, though, while he sat across from me, his dress shirt stretched tightly over his chest and arms and the sleeves rolled up, exposing his strong forearms. He looked good. Better than good. The schoolgirl crush I’d had on him all those years was still there, only now, it was tinged with the awareness of adulthood. I understood the glances he stole when he thought I wasn’t looking. The frank approval in his eyes as he watched me. The flare of desire I caught on occasion when I would laugh or tap my bottom lip. He watched me intently, making me feel as if I was the only person in the room. He didn’t seem to notice other women staring at him.
I had to admit, I liked it.
“I don’t think you know much about me, Una.” He paused as he set down the bottle. “Yet.”
The one word was laden with promise. I had to clench my hands on my lap to stop the tremble that went through me.
“And these hotels?” I asked. “Where are they?”
“Both here. In Toronto. They are smaller boutique hotels that have been mismanaged. I’ve hired new staff and done a lot of renovations.” He took a drink of wine, studying me. “I’d like you to come work for me. Help me run them.”
I almost sputtered. “I’m still learning myself.”
He chuckled. “I’ve followed you, Una. Top of your class. The first hotel you went to, you rose up fast. Your old employer sang your praises. Hated that he lost you.”
I sighed. “I wish I hadn’t left.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to work for Embers. The hotel had such a good reputation. But my manager is horrible. So terrified someone will surpass or replace her that she micromanages everything. The first word out of her mouth ninety percent of the time is no. She resents the fact that Alison, the hotel owner, handpicked me and offered me a position just under her. I’m getting nowhere—except frustrated.”
“Then accept my offer.”
“How do I know it would be different?”
He crossed his ankle over his knee, meeting my eyes. “I guarantee it would be, Una. I expect you to work hard and take advantage of the opportunity. You will learn under a great mentor. Then when you’re ready, I’ll send you to the next hotel in a higher position. I want to give you the opportunities you deserve.”
“Why?” I asked, my voice suddenly breathless.
He sipped his wine, his gaze never leaving my face. “Because I saw the spark in you years ago. It’s still there, but it’s dimming. I want to bring it back to life.” He set down his glass. “And I want to be part of your life.”
“Finn,” I whispered.
“I want to ask you out again. Only this time, not to offer you a job.”
“I don’t want to be involved with someone who is…” I trailed off, unsure how to explain.