Chapter 13

Ronald and Betty were in their sixties, never had kids, and lived in an absolutely gorgeous modern house in one of the ritzier Atlanta suburbs. Lito had been invited to their home a few times before, mostly for the company Christmas and Fourth of July get-togethers, but this was the first time since the downtown Dayspring offices closed. Betty’s email had made it sound like this would be something similar…which was why it felt so odd when Lito got to their house and discovered it would just be the three of them eating dinner together.

“Not quite the same as before, I know,” Betty said, picking up on Lito’s confusion as she ushered him into the kitchen, “but we wanted to catch you while you’re in town. How’s Black Lake treating you?”

“It’s different.” Lito accepted the glass of ice water she handed him and made to help with setting the table, but Ronald waved him away. “I’ve never lived anywhere smaller than Orlando before, so it’s taken some getting used to.”

“Settled in at the new office?”

Lito still didn’t feel particularly settled, standing out like a sore thumb in the middle of all his coworkers’ gossip and feminine chatter, but that wasn’t really something he could say. “Vanessa and the other women have gone out of their way to be welcoming,” he answered. They were obviously making an effort. “It’s been an adjustment, and tapping into the local local art scene for every Dayspring location in the state is gonna be a big job, but I don’t mind the travel.” He thought for a second. “I do like having a house to myself instead of half an apartment too. I’m renting a little two-bedroom ranch with a flowerbed I haven’t killed yet and a real backyard.”

Ronald snorted—Lito’s not exactly green thumb had come up in conversation before, the first time they were dealing with landscaping. Planning out a new look was one thing; growing actual living herbs in the box outside his old kitchen window was something else entirely. Betty frequently lamented that she couldn’t garden like she had when she was younger because they were so frequently away from Atlanta.

“You’ve got a dog, right?” Ronald asked. “I remember you mentioning her.”

“Yeah, a two-year-old lab mix. She likes having a yard too.”

“We had two, several years ago.” Betty gestured toward a framed picture on the wall of two fluffy white puffballs with dark brown eyes. “Tillie and Tiny. I used to take them with me whenever I was on the road without Ron.”

“I remember.” Vividly. Lito had been an overnight desk clerk for all of about a month when his manager had whipped everyone into a frenzy because one of Dayspring’s owners was going to be visiting their location overnight and checking things out personally. They were one of the few hotels around with pet-friendly rooms, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise that she brought her dogs, but Lito had been taken aback by the tiny lady with giant hair and two bleached tribbles following along behind her. She’d checked into her room, put her pups to bed, then spent most of the night puttering with the antiquated computers trying to set up some new reservation system. The two of them ended up having a wonderfully frank discussion about the hospitality industry in general, Lito’s ambitions in particular, and what he needed to do to get there. When the night manager up and quit with no notice six months later, Betty rubber-stamped Lito’s promotion without even bothering to come interview him for the position.

“You brought them along a few times when you came to Orlando,” he explained. “I was impressed at how quiet they were, even when another dog completely freaked out at them in the lobby.”

“When—oh!” Betty put her hand to her mouth. “A big grumpy gray one, wasn’t it? We got a complaint afterward, that’s why it stuck in my mind. The owner said you weren’t sufficiently apologetic that her dog suffered emotional distress while at our hotel.”

That was news to Lito. “I spent forever letting her complain at me next morning—that was the first time I’d ever needed to go take a break so I wouldn’t start yelling back. What’s-his-name, the day manager, hid in his office the entire time, citing seniority.”

“I told the woman in no uncertain terms that we only allow well-behaved dogs,” Betty said. “And that particular manager didn’t last all that long, if it’s the man I’m thinking about. Balding, regrettable mustache, kind of a whiny voice? Name started with an E?”

That was…more than accurate, actually, if not exactly a flattering description. They chatted about E-something-the-ex-manager and Lito’s time at the Atlanta office over the course of dinner. Which was, as usual, amazing. Betty and Ronald both loved to cook and Lito got the impression they’d been desperate for a chance to show off their culinary skills. He’d never had a vegetarian shepherd’s pie before, but Ronald had somehow remembered that Lito was a vegetarian (partly right) and it was really touching that they’d perfected a new recipe just for him.

“I’ve got the trifles still setting,” Betty announced when Lito finished thoroughly cleaning his plate. “If you don’t mind waiting on dessert for a bit, though, Ron and I did want to talk shop with you. None of what we’re about to discuss is public knowledge yet, so please don’t tell anyone.”

That sounded ominous. He should have known there’d be something like that the moment he found out the invitation to the big boss’ house for dinner was a private one. “I won’t,” he promised.

“Well then.” Ronald poked at his phone for a minute, then turned the screen and handed it to Lito. “This is the Sunshine State Motel in Miami. Or it’s the original one, to be more accurate—the chain has thirteen motels total across south Florida. We’ve been in negotiations for the last few months with the owners, offering to buy them out.”

Lito accepted the phone and swiped through the motel’s listings page. Lots of two and three-star reviews. The general consensus seemed to be they were clean and cheap, but dated and ugly with mediocre customer service. “Not exactly Dayspring prices, looks like.”

“Oh, we’re planning to rebrand,” Betty said. “The Sunshine State Motel name is a bit tarnished now—the owners haven’t done more than basic maintenance in ages. Ron and I haven’t come up with what we’re going to call it instead, but at this point it’s a ‘when’ more than an ‘if.’”

“Which brings us to you,” Ronald interjected. “I know we just asked you to take on the Alabama project a few months ago, but we’re going to need someone to oversee the decor and branding for this new chain and we’d like to give it higher priority. The rates are going to be lower than Dayspring’s, which means you’ll be decorating on a budget, but the mint-and-cream makeover you talked us into was a sorely needed change and you nailed it. Customer reviews reflected that. You have good instincts and you balance the artistic requirements with the financial ones.”

He’d been much less enthusiastic when Lito first proposed the new color scheme two years earlier. The praise felt wonderful. “Thanks.” Lito knew he hadn’t been entirely responsible for Dayspring Inn & Suites’ ratings and revenue going up, but the more modern artwork and the noticeable lack of 1950s-era cement pineapples probably helped. Ronald had a terrible artistic aesthetic, but he and Betty both knew it and were quick to defer to Lito’s eye. “This sounds like a huge job, though,” he added. “If you need it done quickly I don’t know if I’ll be able to juggle the Alabama renovations with—”

“Oh, this would be another straight-up promotion,” Betty assured him. “We’re offering you a fifteen-thousand-a-year raise and we’ll cover your relocation costs to Miami. I know you weren’t all that keen on Black Lake initially and moving twice so close together is a pain, but this opportunity came up rather suddenly for us and you’re the logical choice.” She flashed him a motherly smile. “I’m not saying I play favorites, but…”

“Yes, she does.” Ronald squeezed his wife’s hand. “And we wouldn’t offer if we didn’t think you’d be an excellent fit for what we need.”

Well fuck. Between the raise he’d already gotten when they moved him to Black Lake in the first place and another fifteen thousand, Lito would be making almost half again what he used to. “You’d want to keep me in Miami for good, then?”

“That’s the other half of this.” Ronald sat back in his chair. “Ideally, we’d like you to be a local presence while we sort through the staffing issues and growing pains with the new chain. Conduct interviews, help new employees receive appropriate training to meet Dayspring standards… You’d essentially be a part-time HR department for us. Betty and I will both be down there as much as we can in the beginning, of course, but we can’t do everything. You’re a long-time employee who knows Dayspring’s culture better than anyone, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”

“It means we’ll be looking to hire someone new to take on what you’re currently doing in Black Lake,” Betty added. “Whatever you’re able to pass off. The new hire would also function as a long-distance assistant for you going forward to handle whatever tasks you think would be easiest to delegate—you know your workload better than I do. I know it’s inconvenient, but you’re from Miami originally, right?”

“It’s…been a while. But yes, that’s where I grew up.” Grew up, came out, ran away—so many memories, and not all ones he particularly wanted to remember. Still, for another step up the ladder it might be worth facing his childhood demons. “I haven’t been back in forever.”

Betty didn’t press. He’d never talked about why he left Miami with her, but she was frighteningly observant sometimes. “Think about it,” she said instead. “Like we said earlier, we’re still in negotiations for this, so it could be a month from now or it could be six months. We’d like to have you hit the ground running when it does go through, though. And that is a when. The sooner we can rebrand and get Sunshine State Motels back up and running, the better.”

“We’ll have one of the pet-friendly suites in the Coral Gables location available for your use until you find somewhere you like better,” Ronald added. “There’s no rush.”

Damn. A promotion, another raise, an assistant. Plus free rent. “That’s…incredibly generous.”

“It’s a big step,” Betty said. “For you and for us. But I think we have the ability to recoup our renovation costs back quickly by offering a pet-and-budget-friendly hospitality experience. There’s nothing like that anywhere in the area. Hopefully we’ll be able to expand too, sometime in the next decade or so.”

“One thing at a time,” Ronald added.

“So.” Betty stood and busied herself collecting their plates. “Strawberry trifle time?”