My surprise quickly becomes shock. “You did?”
“He took the time to know your name and remember it. Went and got you within seconds of my calling and delivered you safely. Then took the time to listen to you and offer suggestions for a ghost tour. He deserved it.”
Certainly, it’s not meant to be personal, but it just sounds and feels incredibly personal when he keeps putting it in reference to me and staring at me like he is—like he wants to lean across the center console and demand I ask him to kiss me again.
I don’t want that, I remind myself, adding the memory of him kissing that woman just hours before to finalize that realization and recalling dozens of other memories of him kissing girls that has my upper body shifting back closer to the door and farther from a very bad idea.
11
Tyler
I sit in the swivel chair at the end of the conference table, a mess of spreadsheets in front of me as well as three laptops, nothing on them reflecting anything that makes sense.
I scrub a hand over my face and stand, my muscles constricted and restless. Our next hotel isn’t until Santa Fe which, when we started to plot this trip, didn’t seem like that big of a feat, but after all of yesterday being spent in the car and still fighting to get the information I’d requested, that eleven hours to New Mexico is feeling like a life sentence.
“Mr. Banks,” Anika answers on the second ring.
“Anika, I need a hotel reservation for somewhere between Austin and Santa Fe. Four rooms, please.”
“For tonight, I presume?”
“That’s correct.”
“Your options are limited.”
Tell me about it. “We’ll make it work.”
“There’s a small city called Odessa, Texas. It’s going to be about five and a half hours from where you are.”
I rub my eyes with my thumb and forefinger, wondering how the others will take this news. “Okay. Yeah. That works.”
“I’ll email you a reservation. Anything else?”
“N… Yes. Atrial septal defects. It’s a heart condition, a hole in the atrial septum. I want to speak with a specialist to ask some questions.” I read about the condition in detail last night, yet, I still want some assurance from a specialist.
“When would you like me to set it up?”
“As soon as possible.”
“I’ll make an appointment for after you meet with Santa Fe.”
“Thank you.”
She hangs up, and I roll my shoulders before heading for the door, looking for Sid, the general manager here who has the attention span of a toddler.
“Sid, where are the expenditures for the past three years?”
“Aren’t those in there?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Let me go find them.”
He starts to turn. “I also need the variable expenses to calculate the contribution margin as well,” I tell him.
As I open the conference room door, my phone rings. “Your ears burning?” I ask my Uncle Kip.
He laughs. “What are you doing, kid?”
“Currently, just trying not to gouge my eyes out from boredom.”
He clicks his tongue with disapproval. “I taught you better than that. You know what I’ll tell you: find a hottie or a football.”
I lean back in my chair, laughing at the sentiment he’s instilled in me for as long as I can remember. “Been there, done that.”
“Rinse and repeat, kid. Rinse and repeat.”
“I’m on a business trip.”
“How in the hell did you get roped into that? Was it your mom? Need me to put in a good word for you? I can call her and remind her about that time she ran off to Colorado after graduation before she met your dad.”
I cringe, not wanting to think about the implications of that story. “No. My choice.”
“Your choice?”
“I’m trying to show initiative.”
“I’m sorry, I think I dialed the wrong number. I’m looking for my nephew. He’s a good-looking fucker, who’s been all over college sports news because of his new role with Brighton as a starting running back. They’re talking about how he’s going to change things up with his speed. They’re calling him The Flash.”
“That was spring league,” I tell him. “It hardly counts.”
“Oh, trust me. It counts. I’ve seen your mug on the TV a dozen times this week. Go put this on in whatever fucking hotel you’re in. Plaster it all over the lobby and in every guest room. You’ll have chicks lining up to suck you like a goddamn lollipop.”
“Choke on me, you mean.”
He cackles. “Better yet, tell me where you are. I’ll send the party to you.”
“Can’t. I’m about to leave. We’re doing a road trip across the country.”
“We?”
“One of my teammates and a couple of friends.”
“Ah, so you brought a mobile party.”
Sid returns, opening the conference room door, holding a file and another laptop.
“Sorry, Uncle Kip, but I’ve got to cut it short. I’ll give you a call when I hit Seattle.”
“All right, kid. I’ll smell you later.”
I hang up and turn my attention to Sid and the mess he’s trying to hand off to me, wrestling with facts and stats that all seem tangled in a web that appears to be growing larger and larger with every question.
“Sid, let’s be frank here. Your budget isn’t adding up. You have dozens of expenses that don’t make sense. A pool renovation, new company cars, a fucking water feature that isn’t here. And apparently, the laptop to employee ratio is three to one. You’re bleeding money.”
He blanches. “People don’t want luxury anymore.”
I stare at him, waiting for him to continue. Several moments pass, and he drops my stare, a red stain creeping up his neck and reaching his face. At least he has some sense.
“Explain.”
“People want more privacy. They don’t want the traditional turndown service because they don’t want people in their space. And they don’t need the best concierge in town telling them where to find the best drink or steak in Austin because now they have Google.”
“It’s not just turndown
