For two days Hope had been on pins and needles. She'd seen Brad in passing. A wave or a nod. Never close enough to talk and she had no reason to search him out. She often went days without seeing senior management. Heck, the only reason she saw as much of Keith as she did was because he'd always found reasons to come to her.
Now she was wondering if Brad might be dodging her altogether. Another reason why she'd avoided getting involved with a man all these years. For the same two days she'd been reliving that world-altering kiss, Jason had been talking about nothing else but going shopping with Brad tomorrow. She couldn't even fathom how she would deal with her son's disappointment if Brad backed out.
"How's it going?" Keith appeared in her doorway.
"It's going." She tried to plaster on a cheery smile until she took a longer look into Keith's eyes. "What's wrong?"
Easing his way into the tiny office, he moved a stack of paper off the only other chair available, dropped it on the floor, and scooted the seat closer to the desk before sitting.
Her stomach felt as though a swarm of angry bees had made themselves at home. Whatever the heck was wrong, was very wrong.
"I got the paperwork on the two maids EastCo is transferring to us from the other side of the island."
"And?"
"They seem fine. Nothing unusual. They're actually experienced maids. Were with the Royal Palms even before EastCo bought them out."
She really wished he would get to the part that had him pulling up a chair to talk to her.
"Attached to the employee files were EastCo's HR descriptions of their jobs. You know, experience required and all the other crap which comes with the hiring process."
Crap? Now she knew she wasn't going to like what he had to say.
"There was also the description and qualifications for your job."
Okay, that did it. Her stomach was now officially under attack. The score, Hope zero, bees two.
Keith leaned forward. "Hope, I don’t know how to tell you this other than to just spit it out. At EastCo, all managerial positions require a degree. A college degree."
"And I don't have one." No need to read between the lines. The writing on the wall was in large bold print. As soon as this transition to EastCo was complete, she would be screwed out of her job.
***
Today was Brad's turn on the grounds crew. On a scale of one to ten, it was somewhere above facilities, otherwise known as janitorial, and under reservations. He wouldn't have minded slapping a guest or two upside the head. The patience his people had to show while talking to disrespectful adults—who wouldn't be happy until they got an oceanfront room for the price of a popsicle—was mind-boggling.
The only good thing about baking under the Hawaiian sun was he got to see a lot more of the comings and goings of the staff. Like why the heck was his hotel manager heading toward the same building that officed housekeeping? It had become pretty obvious to him by Keith’s oddly protective behavior that, rather than maintaining good order at the workplace, what Keith had was a thing for Hope.
Perched on the end of his rake, he came within seconds of checking out what was going on for himself. For two days he'd forced himself to stay away from Hope. Convinced that, if he could escape the physical connection, he'd get his head screwed on straight and be able to think more rationally. There was nothing rational about the way he felt at this moment. Territorial didn't even begin to cover it. Assault and battery came close. Murder was more in the ballpark. And then he saw Keith leaving. Not that much can happen in—he looked at his watch—a fifteen-minute visit. At least not if the guy knew what he was doing.
Moving the same small pile of leaves back and forth at his feet, he kept his eyes on Keith until the man was once again in the main hotel building. Shoving aside the pile with one angry broad stroke, Brad would have smacked himself if he could. Talk about overreacting. He had no claim on Hope and no reason to believe anything was going on between her and Keith. Even if there were, none of it was his business. But that was the kick of it. He wanted it to be his business. Very much.
John was right. It is what it is. Brad could hide from his growing feelings as long as he wanted, but that didn’t change the fact that Hope had made herself at home under his skin. He had no idea if it was her pretty smile, her sense of loyalty to the company, her concern for her coworkers, her love for her son, or the way she nibbled on her lower lip every time she worried about money. But, whatever the heck it was, he wanted more of it. "Henry."
"Yes, boss man?"
Brad almost laughed. Today he was just part of the crew, but the other guy assigned to the same detail still treated him like a hotel manager. If the guy knew who he really was, he'd have a cow. "I'm taking a break. Getting a drink. Want something?"
"No thanks." Henry pointed to the water bottle at his side. "I'm fine."
"Be right back." Brad wished he weren't so sweaty, but enough was enough. He needed to at least check in on Hope. If nothing else, he had the perfect excuse—confirming tomorrow's shopping date.
Stopping in the men's room just inside the doorway, he took a second to wash his hands and face and do a fast finger-comb of his hair. Looking in the mirror, he decided his appearance could be a lot worse. By later this afternoon he'd be stinking like a wet dog.
"You got a minute?" He rapped on the door frame and almost leapt into the room when she raised her head, and he found those beautiful green eyes were laced red from crying. He was definitely going to murder Keith, preferably slowly and painfully.
She bowed her head, returning to the paperwork in front of her. "Not now. I'm behind on the laundry report."
To hell with laundry. Ignoring her, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "What happened? Is it Jason?"
Her head shot up. "Oh, no." The back of her hand swiped at an escaped tear. "He's fine. I'm just not taking some difficult news well."
So it was Keith. What had the ass-hat done? "I've been told I'm a good listener."
She ran another hand under her other eye. Straightening in her seat, she sucked in a deep breath, put on a brave smile, and he knew as sure as his name was Bradford Peyton that he was, beyond any doubt, falling in love with the woman in front of him.
"Thanks, but I'll be fine," she answered. "What did you need?"
To know what that idiot said to you. "What time did you want me to pick you up tomorrow?" For a moment he thought he saw a tiny spark of pleasure peek out from behind those sad eyes. Or was it just wishful thinking on his part?
"It's up to you." She forced a feeble smile.
"Nine o'clock too early?"
This time her eyes definitely lit briefly with amusement. "I have an eight-year-old. What do you think?"
That he didn't have a clue was the first thing to come to mind and that he didn't care came second. "Nine o'clock it is. And… well, if you tell me what's bothering you, maybe I can help."
She shook her head and pressed her lips together as though that might still the tears once again pooling in her eyes. Taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, her shoulders seemed to deflate with the expelled breath. "I was lucky that the Paradise Shores' former owner believed there was no substitute for hard work and experience”
He nodded. The owner, Brad was learning, was much smarter than he’d given the guy credit for.
Her eyes fell shut again. “Not even a college degree."
A nasty knot formed in the pit of his stomach.
Breathing in and out again, she leveled her gaze with his. "It appears EastCo doesn't follow the same philosophy."
"They didn't fire you, did they?" They couldn't have. He clearly told his assistant to hold back the transition phase of Paradise Shores.
"No." She snatched a pen from the desk and rolled it between her fingers. "But it won't be long."
"You're good at your job. You care. Don't hesitate to step in and do the work yourself if needed. That's a rare commodity in an employee."
"Tell that to EastCo."
That's exactly what he had in mind. "Listen, try not to worry. I have a lot of friends in the business. I'm sure something will work out."
She smiled up at him. "You're a very sweet man, Brad. A bit of an optimist but sweet." Scooting closer to her desk, she waved him away. "You'd better get back to work before we both wind up getting the ax."
Right about now, the need to assure her all would be well almost had him telling her the truth about himself, to hell with the stupid two-week challenge. But an even stronger gut instinct told him, if he shared his secret now, he wouldn't stand an ice cube's chance in the sun of getting the girl. "You're right, but I'll check in on you later."
Still smiling, she nodded at him.
Outside the building he glanced around and walked toward the empty beach. Cell phone in hand he hit speed dial to his office. "Carol."
"How's today going?"
"To hell in a handbasket."
"What do I need to do?" This was why Carol was worth her weight to him in gold. No hurt feelings, just ready to man the battle stations.
"Listen very carefully. I want the following change written into policies for every last damn department in every damn division of EastCo. From now on, all internal applicants for executive and managerial positions can substitute on-the-job and life experience to fulfill degree requirements. Then get legal to give you the right mumbo jumbo to grandfather-in all positions from acquired companies, regardless of qualifications criteria, without us getting stuck with the crackpots. Got it?"
"Do you want me to tell legal exactly that?"
"Tell them anything you want, including, if I don't have this back and enforceable by end of business tomorrow, they can all find new jobs."
"Yes, sir. Got it." If anyone could prod legal into actually pulling this together in twenty four hours, it was Carol.
Shoving his phone into his pocket, Brad stomped back to his job for the day. Ava had been right. Being the one to buy the new toy was one thing, but having to polish it first yourself made one helluva difference. EastCo was in for some major changes when he got back to his office. And John was right too about Hope. She was it for Brad, but how to get her to fall for Bradford Peyton was something he had no clue how to do. Or did he?