Nice.
Arabella’s teeth clenched but she summoned a smile. “Aren’t we the lucky ones?” She started to turn right back around to escape. “I’ll get the salad.”
“Already have it,” Harper told her.
Sure enough, the salad bowl was sitting in front of Jay.
“I’ll get the drinks then,” she said, annoyed that she sounded a little desperate. “Can’t have a summer cookout without libations. Milk for the boys, I know. Beer for everyone else?”
But Harper shook her head. “I’ll just have milk, too.” Her voice was casual. Too casual.
Arabella eyed her soon-to-be sister-in-law’s down-bent head for a moment, then looked at her brother. Brady was focused on the burgers. Too focused.
The suspicion she’d been harboring since the twins had drawn that picture over a week ago warred with her consternation over Jay and won. So victoriously won, in fact, that in her effort to contain a broad smile, her gaze collided with Jay’s. He, too, seemed to be struggling not to smile, though surely he couldn’t understand her reason.
Warmth engulfed her and only being jostled by two wet, slippery little boys as they chased their ball under the table near Arabella’s feet was enough to break the trance. Bad enough that Murphy was already under the table, too.
“Come on, guys. Get out from under there and finish drying off.” She grabbed two towels and lightly flipped the ends under the table.
Tyler popped out and giggled madly when she dropped the towel over his head. “Can we have the radio?”
Toby popped out, too, and caught his towel midair. “Yeah, I wanna floss!”
Jay laughed. “Where’d you learn to do that dance?”
“Harper taught us.”
At the sound of her name, Harper finally looked up. “Sorry, what was that?”
Arabella bit back another smile. She was convinced that Harper was pregnant. “The boys say you taught them how to do the floss. Which means we definitely need some music out here.”
“Get that new Bluetooth speaker that Brady brought home the other day,” Harper called after her as she went inside the house. “It’s on the washing machine.”
When Arabella went back outside a few minutes later with the beverages and the speaker, she was equally convinced that her brother knew about the pregnancy and was reeling. There was no other way to explain his uncommon silence, the tinge of pallor on his face and the totally abject adoration in his eyes when he looked at Harper.
She opened her streaming service on her phone, connected to the speaker and music from her favorite radio station back home in New York filled the patio as though she’d just hooked up a huge sound system. “Don’t you love technology?” She had to raise her voice above the robust volume.
Jay’s smile seemed to twist slightly. “Sometimes.”
Brady finally looked away from Harper. “Geez, Bella. Neighbors?”
She made a face but turned down the volume. “This is so much better than Murphy’s radio.”
“The dog has a radio?”
Arabella didn’t look at Jay. “Don’t they all?”
“Only thing that keeps Murphy out of mischief when we’re all gone is to leave the radio playing,” Harper explained. “Don’t ask how many pairs of shoes we sacrificed before we figured out the solution, though.” She patted her lap and the dog hopped up. “Yes, you’re still a good boy,” she crooned, then broke into giggles because the boys were jumping around doing their surprisingly coordinated version of the floss, swinging their hips one way while their arms went the other.
“Auntie Bella,” Toby called. “Come and dance.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m not that coordinated!”
“I doubt that,” Jay said.
“Go on,” Harper encouraged. “You can do it.”
“You’re the one who taught them,” Arabella reminded.
“Come on.” Jay stood and held out his hand. “It’s not that difficult.”
Arabella eyed his hand, not wanting to be as tempted as she was.
Fortunately, Brady announced just then that the burgers were ready, which solved that. The ravenous boys sat up at the table, and with the exception of Jay sitting next to Arabella and the conversational gaps that kept happening whenever Brady and Harper looked at each other, it was just another normal night in the Radcliffe/Fortune household.
Arabella supposed it wasn’t surprising that they weren’t announcing anything—verbally, that was. Not with an outsider present in the form of Jay. On the other hand, she wanted to whoop and jump around the same way her nephews had been doing and hug her brother silly because nobody deserved that panicked look of awe and devotion more than he did.
After hamburgers, though, Harper and Brady disappeared inside for a few minutes, leaving Arabella and Jay alone with the boys, who’d gone back to racing around the yard with their boundless energy. The only difference now was that they’d progressed from dancing to brandishing twigs as if they were light sabers.
She rolled her empty beer bottle between her palms in time to the beat coming from the speaker and eyed Jay from the corner of her eye. “So. Complicated week.”
“Right.” He sat forward and clasped his own empty bottle, his hands close to hers. “That.”
He didn’t say anything else, though, and she looked at him fully. Waiting. With a pained expression, he sat back again.
Frustration wore at her edges, helped along by the earworm song she detested that came on the radio just then. Again. Even from her beloved Buffalo station. “I hate that song,” she muttered.
His beer bottle clattered onto its side and he righted it. “It is pretty annoying.”
“Right? I mean the singer’s got a nice enough voice but that song is played way too often.” She fiddled with her phone and found another station, then took the empty bottles into the kitchen to toss in the recycling bin. Her brother and Harper were still MIA, so she grabbed a bag of marshmallows and went back outside. “Boys! Bring your light sabers over here.”
Even though the sun was starting to set, they plainly saw the bag that she held and made a beeline from across the yard.
She checked the ends of their sticks for signs of obvious mud and, finding none, impaled a marshmallow on each one. “Hold it over the grill,” she told them. “There’s still enough heat from the coals to toast them. But stand right here.” She positioned them as far from the kettle as possible. “Murphy, get back.” She snapped her fingers and pointed behind her.
The dog interpreted that as “climb into my seat.”
She let it pass and focused on her nephews. “All right, guys, no closer than right here or you might get burned. Remember when Toby burned his finger on the stove?”
They wore twin frowns of concentration mingled with wariness and she returned to her seat. The dog looked up at her, one maple-colored ear cocked forward hopefully.
Resigned, she scooped him up and sat down with him on her lap, holding the marshmallow bag out of his range.
“Cute dog.”
“If you like a crooked-eared mongrel,” she allowed, nuzzling the dog’s head. “I guess he’s okay.” If she were brave, she’d tell Jay to either start talking or just leave. Instead, she shook the marshmallow bag. “Want one? I can get another stick for you. Or a proper long-handled fork if you’re squeamish.”
“I’m not squeamish, but I’ll pass.”
“Suit yourself.” She plucked a marshmallow from the bag and shoved it in her mouth. She didn’t need to toast a marshmallow to love a marshmallow. She leaned forward to toss the bag on the table and adjusted the volume on the speaker again.
“What kind of music do you like?” Jay gestured at the speaker. “It’s obviously not Jett Carr.”
Harper walked out onto the patio. “Isn’t he that singer everyone is looking for?”
Brady was on her heels and he spotted the bag of marshmallows and aimed for it as quickly as Toby and Tyler had done. “Publicity stunt.” He grabbed a handful and dragged his chair over to the boys. They were still waiting for their marshmallows to turn at least the faintest tinge of gold and they immediately climbed onto his knees. “Gotta be a publicity stunt.”
Harper stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t be so cynical.” She kissed the top of his head. “When those marshmallows finish toasting, it’s off to bed with you boys.”
“What’s cynical?” Brady jabbed the coals with the poker, spurring them along. “The guy puts out a music video that supposedly goes viral just when he seems to disappear off the planet? Too coincidental if you ask me. He’s probably sipping margaritas sitting on some beach in the Bahamas, raking in the money.”
Jay snorted. “There’re more singers scraping by than sitting around raking in money.”
“Says the hotel trainee,” Arabella drawled. “What did you do before you started there? Aside from getting your private pilot’s license, I mean.”
He reached for the marshmallow bag, evidently unable to resist the lure, after all. “I wasn’t flying drugs back and forth across the border if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“He used to work at an insurance company in California,” Brady said, then spread his hands when they all looked at him. “I checked his personnel file,” he said defensively.
Jay was frowning. “What for?”
“I know exactly what for!” Arabella jabbed her finger in the air at Brady. Because he was an overprotective big brother who wanted to know more about “her crush,” as he called it. “You had no business doing that.”
“I had every business,” Brady countered unapologetically. His gaze skated over Jay. “You were hired early on at the hotel. Before the balcony collapse. After that, they started doing deeper background checks on the employees.”
“But the balcony was an accident!” Arabella wanted to throttle Brady.
Her brother’s expression didn’t change. “Tell the insurance company covering the hotel that.” He looked at Jay again. “Security’s reviewed the files for all of the original employees at this point, so don’t take it personally.”
“You’re not security,” Arabella said through her teeth. “You’re the concierge.”
Jay waved his hand. His frown was gone. “He’s right. No reason to take it personally. At Hotel Fortune, everyone pitches in where they’re needed.”
Arabella shook her head. “Stop making excuses for my brother, Jay. As usual, he’s sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
“My marshmallow’s on fire,” Tyler suddenly wailed.
“It’s fine,” Harper assured calmly and showed him how to blow it out.
“But now it’s black!”
“That’s the best way,” Jay told him. “Crispy and burnt a little on the outside and—”
“—gooey on the inside,” Arabella finished. “That’s my favorite way to eat toasted marshmallows.” She addressed her nephew but from the corner of her eye, she saw Jay’s dimple flash.
Somewhat mollified, Tyler subsided, leaning back against Brady’s chest while he waited for the gooey marshmallow to cool enough to eat. Toby, on the other hand, had already eaten his marshmallow before it got to such an inflamed state and he was climbing onto Harper’s lap now that she’d pulled up a chair alongside Brady’s.
The afternoon of water play, sunshine and food had worked its magic and the twins were clearly getting sleepy. Even Murphy had abandoned her lap to curl around Brady’s feet.
Arabella studied the picture they all made together. A family already. And now, she felt sure, with new babies on the way as well.
She exhaled, feeling her annoyance with Brady dribble away. Most of it, at least.
“It’s getting late.” Jay pushed away from the table and stood. “And I should leave you folks to your evening.”
“You don’t have to run off,” Harper protested.
“I’ve got horses to feed and I usually check in on my grandmother every evening about now,” he said, even though Arabella felt sure he did no such thing. If anyone did any “checking in” where Louella was concerned, it was probably Louella herself checking on Jay. “Thank you for the dinner, though.” His gaze rested on Arabella. “I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed myself more.”
Feeling a little like a slightly scorched marshmallow, Arabella followed him through the house to the front door. “Thank your grandmother again for the jam.” The jars were still sitting on the coffee table in the living room. “I’m going to have to hide one away in my bedroom to keep it safe.”
“You know where there’s more.” He stepped out onto the porch.
She suddenly didn’t want him to go. “Insurance office. Really?”
He smiled slightly. “Really.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s as bad as a plastics manufacturer. That was my last job in New York.”
“Surprised you were able to tear yourself away,” he said dryly. “And insurance is boring only until you find yourself in need of it.”
“Sounds like a slogan but I’ll concede that point.”
His smile widened. He suddenly lowered his head slightly toward hers. “Is your brother’s fiancée pregnant?”
She gaped, and hearing a noise behind them in the kitchen, joined him on the porch so she could pull the door closed behind her. “You got that, too?” She pressed her hands over her mouth until she got control over her chortling. Then she grabbed his shirtfront urgently. “You can’t say anything, though.”
He covered her hands with his. “I promise.”
Just that easily, her knees went weak. Thanks to her own riotous imagination, the last week and a half had been an emotional roller coaster where he was concerned.
Which meant she needed to stop overreacting at his slightest touch and start acting like the adult she claimed to be.
She only needed to figure out how to think straight for more than ten seconds at a time whenever he touched her.
Simple enough, right?
“What’s going on inside that beautiful head of yours?”
She froze. “What do you mean?”
His eyes roved over her face. His thumb brushed against the back of her hand. “I can practically see the wheels turning.”
She made a face and shook her head. Her fingers finally listened to the frantic signals from her brain to release his shirt and she pulled her hands from beneath his. “The sunset,” she lied. “Reminds me that I should get in there.” She tilted her head toward the door behind her. “Make sure I’m set for tomorrow. Big day and all.” She rubbed her hands together with false excitement. “Trainee program and such.”
“You might like it.”
“I’ll like it fine as long as it pays my way out of the twin bed I sleep in upstairs here.”
“Twin bed?”
She realized too late that was a topic better left alone. “It’s a small bedroom.” She fumbled behind her back for the door handle. “Maybe I’ll see you around the hotel.”
“Pretty sure you will.”
“Well.” She got the door open. “G’night.”
“Arabella.”
Her nerves went tight again. “Hmm?”
“It was a complicated week because of old business from California.”
Her mouth dried. Business? Or relationship? “Insurance business?”
His lips compressed. “Not exactly.”
Her stomach sank. Relationship then. Despite her little mental lecture about overreacting and overactive imaginations, she was as certain of that as she was about Harper being pregnant. “Are you married?”
His eyebrows yanked together. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
She didn’t like feeling foolish any more than the next person did and she lifted her chin. “That’s not an answer.”
“No, I am not married,” he said emphatically.
She felt a little like Tyler, then. Somewhat mollified. Somewhat reassured. But not entirely convinced. “People have lied about that before.”
“You were involved with someone who was married?”
“Well, not once I learned the truth!” She cleared her throat and lowered her voice again. “It was just one date. We didn’t—” Her words freeze-dried on her tongue when he curled his palms over her shoulders.
“Arabella.” He exhaled and she felt the press of his fingertips through her knit dress. “One of these days, I hope you’ll want to be Bella to me again.”
Her knees went weak all over again.
“I am not married,” he said softly. “Never have been married.” His fingers squeezed her shoulders slightly. “The stuff from California is just...old...stuff. An inconvenience. And it doesn’t have anything to do with us.”
Forget freeze-dried. Her mouth was suddenly watering and she swallowed hard. “Us? Is there an us?”
His fingers slipped her hair behind her ear before trailing along her jaw. “I think there could be.” His thumb reached her chin. Rested right below her lower lip. “Don’t you?”
The entirety of five months of fantasizing couldn’t match that single moment standing on her brother’s porch while the sunset beamed red and gold and orange behind Jay. “Yes,” she breathed.
“Then let’s just go one day at a time and see where it takes us. Hmm?”
She nodded jerkily. Every fiber of her soul wanted him to kiss her. But she’d asked for his kiss the last time and then he’d gone a whole week and then some before speaking to her. And then only because they’d run into each other at the hotel.
She didn’t have the guts to ask again.
Not even when he ran his thumb slowly over her lip.
Her knees were already mush. The rest of her bones followed suit.
As if he knew it, he smiled slightly. “G’night, Arabella.”
Then he turned and walked away.
Thankfully, the front door was hard and substantial. It held her up when she leaned weakly against it while she watched him climb into his truck parked at the curb. A moment later, his taillights were disappearing down the street.
“Call me Bella,” she whispered soundlessly.
Then the door opened behind her and she fell back, knocking straight into Brady.
“What the hell’re you doing?” He set her back onto her feet.
“Thinking that I can’t wait to have a place of my own!”
“Not that again. You can’t afford a place of your own.”
“Not yet, but I will. And I’d think you’d be glad about that.” She poked him in the chest. “Seeing how you’re going to need the room I’m using.”
“What for?”
She went around him toward the staircase. “Who for, would be more the point, wouldn’t it?”
“Bella—”
“Don’t worry.” She started up the stairs. “I won’t say a word more about it until the two of you are ready to announce it. But—” She shot him a look. “I just have to say one thing first.”
“Just one?”
She let the sarcasm pass and smiled broadly. “You’re already a heck of a dad, Brady. I can’t wait to see you with a baby, too.”
He frowned suddenly and seemed to find the newel post at the base of the staircase inordinately interesting. “What if I screw it up?”
She went back down a couple steps until she was at his eye-level. “Then you’ll adjust and do it better. But you won’t screw it up.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I see Tyler and Toby.” She gave him a quick, hard hug. “Gord and his wife knew what they were doing when they named you in their will as the boys’ guardian.”
“I can’t imagine life without them now,” Brady admitted huskily. “I wouldn’t have moved to Rambling Rose if not for them. Would never have met Harper.” He sniffed and gave an awkward laugh that just reminded her why he had always been her favorite brother. “Rambling Rose seems pretty lucky for those of the Fortune persuasion.”
Arabella smiled and gave him another hug. “That’s what I’m counting on, big brother.”
Then, before he could make too big a deal out of that, she turned and hurried up the stairs.
“All right, then.” Sybil smiled at Arabella the next morning. Instead of leaving instructions at the front desk for her, she’d met Arabella there in person and escorted her to housekeeping. “I’ll leave you in Hallie’s capable hands to get you started. She’s an excellent floor supervisor so you couldn’t have a better trainer. We’ll check in again—officially—next week.” Nursing her coffee cup, she walked out of the office.
Hallie, who’d turned out to be the same girl that Arabella had seen cleaning in the lobby the day before, cast a measuring look over Arabella before hunting through a shelving unit stacked high with folded shirts wrapped in plastic. She pulled one out and handed it to Arabella. “You can try it on in the night supervisor’s office.” She waved at a darkened doorway. “It’s empty. Jordan quit a week ago and they haven’t replaced her yet.”
“Am I going to be fired if I admit I don’t know what the night supervisor even does?”
Hallie laughed. “Night supervisor’s responsible for all the public area cleaning that’s done while everyone else is supposed to be sleeping and makes sure that all guest requests are answered after regular hours.”
While she’d explained, Arabella had unzipped the plastic pouch and pulled out the T-shirt. It was black with the stylized Hotel Fortune logo embroidered in turquoise on the cap sleeve. “What about pants?” she asked as she headed toward the office.
“Those black jeans you’re wearing are fine. Basically anything black is allowed except leggings.” Hallie covered a yawn. “I’m going to grab a coffee. You want one?”
“I’ve already had two. Thanks, though.” She stepped into the office and found the light switch on the wall before closing the door.
Arabella whipped her own blouse off her head and pulled on the T-shirt. It was identical to the one that Hallie wore, though Hallie’s clung to her generous curves and Arabella’s hung loosely from her shoulders.
She left the office again and went to the lockers lining one wall adjacent to the control desk where an unsmiling woman sat in front of a computer with a phone headset on her head. Her name was Beulah, which would have probably wiped a smile off of Arabella’s face, too.
She’d already been assigned one of the lockers and she stored her blouse inside along with her book bag and lunch box that she’d crammed inside earlier. Hallie still hadn’t returned, so she pocketed her locker key and wandered over to the bulletin board that was covered with as many little scraps of paper as it was with large employment posters.
She peered closer at one of the scraps—Roommate Wanted—and made a mental note to check the board again in a few weeks when she had her first paycheck in the bank.
Two other young women, both wearing the turquoise-accented T-shirts, came in. They stopped in front of Beulah and signed in, then waited for the woman to give them their assignments for the morning.
Hallie returned then and she, too, stopped in front of Beulah. A few seconds later, she had a printed sheet in hand and came back over to Arabella. “You learn quick to stay on the right side of Beulah,” she said under her breath as she led Arabella out of the office. “She handles the scheduling for all the room attendants. Get on her bad side and she’ll either assign you enough rooms to kill an elephant or else so few that you’ll be looking for a second and third job just to make it through to payday.”
She led the way to the service elevator and they went down to the second floor. There, Hallie unlocked a door near the service elevator and rolled out one of the large carts stored inside. She showed Arabella the chart on the sheet that Beulah had given her, which indicated the rooms that had been occupied the night before and of those, which ones had already been vacated. “She coordinates with the front desk and will update us throughout the shift as more rooms are vacated. These ones that are circled—” she pointed out the rooms “—are stayovers. Multiple night stays, so it’s up to us to keep an eye out for them. If the guest takes the newspaper we leave outside the door overnight, we know they’re awake, for instance. If we see them leave for breakfast or for the pool, that sort of thing, we can turn the room while they’re gone.”
“How long does that take?”
“It’s a little faster than a total turn. But on average thirty minutes or so for a standard guest room, which is what all of yours are today.” As Hallie talked, she was busy counting out linens and supplies and adding them to the cart. “But it also depends on the state of the room. Some guests are complete and utter slobs and it takes longer.” She held up the box of disposable gloves. “Get used to these things,” she said dryly.
Arabella smiled weakly.
Once Hallie judged the cart ready, they were off.
For the next four hours, Arabella reached and stretched and squatted and crawled around, all for the purpose of leaving each room Fortune-Hotel perfect. Linens were changed. Every surface—from bathroom toilets to wall switch plates—was left polished and sanitized.
By the time they took their lunch break, Arabella felt like she’d been training for a marathon. “I never knew cleaning could be so hard,” she moaned after collapsing onto one of the molded plastic chairs at the round table Hallie commandeered. “I’ve never wanted a foot massage as badly as I do right now.” She had to content herself with curling and uncurling her toes inside her tennis shoes. For one, they were in a cafeteria so removing them was probably in poor taste. For another, if she took off her shoes, she wasn’t entirely certain she’d be capable of putting them on again. “How long have you been doing this?”
Hallie set a glossy magazine on the table, followed by a can of soda. “Six years.” She popped the top of the soda and unwrapped her sandwich. “I was working at a resort in Austin before I came here.”
“What made you want to come to Rambling Rose?”
“What else?” Hallie looked wry. “A guy, naturally. Of course, two months after I’d already signed an apartment lease here in Rambling Rose, the creep gives me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech and heads off to Chicago with an old girlfriend.”
“That stinks.”
Hallie shrugged. “What’re you going to do?” She winked. “Stink happens.”
Arabella groaned humorously. “Terrible.”
“Blame all the toilets I’ve cleaned in the last six years. I just hope things start picking up around this place.”
“What do you mean?”
Hallie shrugged again. “The owners put on a good front, but the vacancy rate’s still pretty high, even for Rambling Rose.” She chewed her sandwich and flipped open her magazine. “What about you? What brought you to town?”
I think you should know that...
...there may be an “us.”
“Family,” Arabella said instead. “Three of my brothers had already moved here.” She wasn’t hiding the fact that she bore the Fortune name, but since Sybil hadn’t introduced them using their full names, it just hadn’t come up yet.
Hallie’s dark eyes danced. “Any of ’em available?”
Arabella chuckled. “Only the two still living in Buffalo.”
“Bummer. I haven’t had a decent date in three months.” Hallie nodded toward Arabella’s barely-touched salad. “You’re gonna get even skinnier if you keep bringing rabbit food like that and then don’t even eat it. We’re back on in ten minutes.”
Arabella was starving, but the energy that it took to lift a fork seemed immense. “How many more rooms will we have?”
“Seven. We should have gotten six done this morning, but—”
“—I’m too slow,” Arabella finished. She’d never thought it was that complicated to clean mirrors but she’d ended up leaving fingerprints that necessitated re-cleaning more often than not. And she was supposed to be ready to go out on her own without Hallie’s help the following day.
“Get yourself a pair of these.” Hallie held up the earbuds that were presently hanging loose around her neck. “You’ll work faster when there’s music going. Don’t ask me why, but it always works.”
“It better. Or I’ll be lucky if I’m not fired on my second day.”
“You’re in the trainee program,” Hallie said dryly. “Once you’re in the trainee program, you don’t get fired.”
“I’m only in the trainee program because they didn’t know where else to put me. Is that something you wanted to do?”
Hallie shook her head. “Being a floor supervisor is enough for me.” She was responsible for inspecting all the cleaned rooms before releasing them again to the front desk for use with another guest. “I’m not interested in getting into management. Too many reports to fill out. It’s more fun sticking to room cleaning.”
Arabella made a face. “I don’t know about that.”
“I even met a couple of celebrities in Austin who stayed at the resort.” Hallie flipped her magazine around to show Arabella an image of a ridiculously handsome man with dark eyes and short dark hair. “This guy? Grayson?” She air-quoted the name. “He used to be big in rodeo. Now his Grayson Gear clothes are everywhere. I have a pair of his jeans. Do wonders for my butt. Anyway, he stayed at our resort a couple of times when I first started working there. All the gossip magazines said he was a real player, but I thought he was super nice. And he tipped great.”
Arabella held her tongue. Hallie didn’t realize that Grayson was one of “those Fortunes” any more than she knew Arabella shared the name, too. Adam and Kane had met him several years ago at that wedding in Paseo that her father was still complaining about. She knew Grayson had two identical brothers, but that was the extent of it. She hadn’t met any of them herself. “Who else famous have you met?”
“Matt McIntyre. He’s on a daytime soap.” Hallie’s eyes lowered to half-mast. “Sexy,” she drawled. “But total slob.” She closed her magazine and tapped an inset photo on the cover of a man with long dark hair. “Wouldn’t mind cleaning his hotel room. He’s so hot I’m not sure I’d even care if he were a slob.”
Where in the World is Jett? was the photo’s caption.
Arabella turned the magazine to get a better look. “You think he’s hot? You can’t even see what he really looks like. Not with those sunglasses and that beard.”
“Seriously? He’s got the bad-boy look nailed down.”
Arabella shrugged. “My mom always says she wonders what guys are hiding behind their beards. I guess it’s stuck with me.” Jay’s clean-shaven face danced in her mind.
“My mom says the same thing. But seriously, have you seen his music video? There’s a reason why that video put his name on the map.” Hallie fanned herself when Arabella shook her head. “Whether you like facial hair or not, you are missing out. Whenever I get depressed over my lack of a love life, I pull out my phone—” she did just that, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket to wave in the air “—and watch me some hottie Jett Carr crooning about his lost love and I am all good again.”
Arabella couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She steeled herself against her protesting muscles and stood. They packed up their lunch boxes and reported back to duty. Hallie went to inspect some of the other rooms also under her watch while Arabella went to the floor pantry and retrieved the cart. She replenished the linens and carefully began backing it through the doorway.
“How’s the first day going?”
She jumped and turned around.
Jay was leaning against the wall watching her.
She forgot all about her sore feet and muscles. “It’s going great.” She waved her hand, taking in his appearance. “Back on food and beverage again?”
“Shows, does it?” He grinned. “Some corporate thing going on this afternoon. Using the banquet room and a couple breakout rooms. I’m on water and coffee detail. Tough gig.”
She laughed softly. “Did you ever have to do a stint in housekeeping?”
“Yep.” He straightened away from the wall. “After the first day, I sent flowers to my mother and grandmother for all the years they spent cleaning up after me.”
She laughed again and finished pulling the cart into the hall. “I’d better get to it. I’m already behind schedule.”
He glanced around the piled-high cart, then leaned closer to her. “Hot tub in the fitness center does wonders for helping with the aches and pains.” His murmur next to her ear sent shivers dancing down her spine.
She turned her head slightly toward him. His green eyes mesmerized. “Fitness center is for guests.”
“It closes at nine.” His smile turned wicked. “And I have a connection who can get us in.” Then he kissed her lightly and straightened away from her just in time to avoid being caught by Grace Williams, who stepped out of the service elevator.
“Good afternoon, Jay. Arabella. How’s the first day going?”
Arabella couldn’t have wiped away the smile on her face if she’d tried. “Better than I ever dreamed.”