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)
Brian Murphy wasn’t smart enough to plan and execute something like this. But someone hated me enough and was raging a vendetta against me.
I needed to figure out who before more people were hurt.
I stepped from the shower.
But first, I needed to see Una. The rest of the world could wait.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
UNA
I blinked at the guest standing in front of me, tapping his fingers on the wooden surface impatiently. He was older, with heavy jowls, and red-faced, almost sputtering in his indignation. His voice had been increasing in volume over the past moments.
“Did you hear me? I want some satisfaction. I demand my money back, and I want to speak to a manager.”
“Sir,” I replied in my most soothing voice. “I have called the manager, who is dealing with another issue. He will be here momentarily. If you’d like to sit, I can have some coffee brought to you and your, ah, wife.”
I was certain the young buxom blond wasn’t his wife.
“I don’t want any fucking coffee, you redheaded snippet! I want to be treated with the respect I deserve!” He slammed his hand this time, making the desk shake with the force of it.
I forced a smile on my face. But before I could speak, another voice from behind him spoke up, icy and firm.
“I own this hotel. How can I be of service?”
The man spun, craning his head back to look Finn in the face. Finn scowled down at him, his gaze penetrating and cold. “I do suggest, however, that you speak to me with the same level of respect you are demanding.”
Mr. Flynn drew himself up, squaring his shoulders. “I have been insulted, and I want restitution. This girl isn’t helping.”
Finn angled his head to the side, staring at him, his stance and expression intimidating. “How odd. Ms. Murphy is one of my best employees. Perhaps it is the disrespect you are showing her that is rendering her unable to help you with your problem.” He switched his gaze to me, lifting an eyebrow, his expression less hostile. “Which would be, Ms. Murphy?”
“Oh, ah, Mr. Flynn says the waiter eyed his wife inappropriately and splashed him with coffee while doing so. He is very upset. Philip—Mr. Watson—is upstairs inquiring with the manager to figure this out.”
“I see.” Finn stared down at Mr. Flynn. “Una,” he said quietly. “Comp Mr. Flynn’s room and any subsequent charges. Arrange a car to the airport.”
“I have my own car.”
“Then we’ll have it out front right away.” Finn tilted his head. “If I might have a moment with you in private.”
Mr. Flynn turned my way. “That is how you treat an important guest.”
I peeked over the monitor as Finn took Mr. Flynn to the side. His back was to me, but I saw the way Mr. Flynn’s face drained of color as Finn spoke. He laid a hand on his shoulder in a friendly gesture I assumed was anything but friendly. Finn only spoke briefly, but Mr. Flynn was nodding so quickly, he reminded me of a bobblehead doll. I cleared his account, and a few moments later, they returned to the desk.
“All taken care of, sir,” I said with a forced smile. “Your car is ready.”
Mr. Flynn cleared his throat. “Thank you. I’m sorry if I was rude. I was upset. Maddy gets offended easily.”
I wanted to tell him maybe Maddy should wear something that covered her breasts instead of showing them off. Her nipples were barely concealed. Her ass cheeks were in danger of exploding out of her tight skirt as well. But I kept my thoughts to myself, handing him the folded bill.
“Have a safe trip home,” I murmured. “Thank you for staying at O’Reilly’s. We look forward to seeing you again.”
He shook his head, side-eyeing Finn. “Probably not.”
Then he scurried away, grabbing Maddy. “Let’s go.”
She tottered behind him on high heels, towering over him. “Can’t we gamble now, Howie? I like the machines that make noise!”
“No!” he roared, looking back, seeing Finn again. “We have to go, Maddy. Now.”
Philip stepped off the elevator, meeting Finn across the lobby. They spoke for a few moments, and Finn nodded, shook his hand, and headed for the elevator. I fought back the tears as the doors shut, hanging my head. He was still angry with me.
I hadn’t slept all night. I’d tried to call Finn, but it went straight to voice mail. I’d dozed in my chair, too afraid to go to bed in case Brian came back.
I had taken a cab to work this morning, too exhausted to care about the cost and not prepared to deal with the subway. Or worry about anyone staring at me.
I had hoped to see Finn and talk to him.
Philip came behind the desk. “Well, that was interesting.”
“Hmm,” I hummed, not trusting my voice. My throat felt thick.