Problems

Trent

She looked nervous. I could tell I was flustering her. Her cheeks were a pretty shade of red, and it had nothing to do with the sun.

I liked that she was shy. She had a very innocent quality about her, which was new to me. Since my recent rise in financial status, it wasn’t often I encountered a woman who truly intrigued me. They were usually very obvious in their attraction, and most were very skilled at the art of flirting. Not her.

I wanted to talk to her more. I wanted to ask her to have a drink with me. My ringing phone pretty much destroyed that plan.

I looked at the number on my phone and saw it was the front house manager. “I have to take this. I’m going to see you again.” I looked directly at her, letting her know I found her very attractive.

“Okay,” she replied, her voice so low I barely heard her.

I nodded, answering the call as I walked away. “Trent here.” 

“Sir, I’m sorry to bother you, but we’ve got a situation here, and you said to call if there were any problems,” the man said, sounding very frustrated.

“I’ll be right there. What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat. “We overbooked.”

I bit back my anger. I hated the overbooking. I understood why hotels did it, but damn if it didn’t end up backfiring. “Do we have anything to offer?”

“No, sir.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. “All right, check the bookings for the week. Let the guest know I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Overbooking happened. It happened more than I cared to admit. It was going to cost me. Mistakes cost money. I’d comp him a week stay in one of the suites, assuming I could find a time that worked for him and the hotel. I didn’t want to find myself in the same situation again.

I hung up the phone and immediately thought of the beautiful woman I had left at the pool. Jones was a very common name. Hell, it was probably the most common name in the US. It didn’t stop me from thinking back to the Jones I knew.

The dog tags that I still wore around my neck felt hot against my chest. I thought back to my CO. I reached up and pressed my hand against my chest. I allowed myself about three seconds to think about him before I pushed the memories back into the box I had stuffed them in three years ago.

I walked into the lobby area, and my front desk manager waved me over. I was glad I had on the suit. It made me feel confident. I had a feeling I was going to need every ounce of confidence to deal with the woman staring at me.

She had the look of a woman used to getting her way. She was probably in her fifties, had white hair cut in a sharp bob and red lips that matched her red nails. Piranha was the first thing that came to mind. No, barracuda. She was a barracuda.

“Hello,” I said, using a practiced tone reserved for difficult guests.

“I need a room, and this man is telling me there isn’t one. I suggest you boot out one of these spring breakers and let me stay. I’m a repeat customer. These kids won’t be back. They’ll never be able to afford a hotel like this for at least twenty years.”

I didn’t bother telling her it was well past spring break. “I am so sorry to inconvenience you. Why don’t we step into the office, and we can figure this out?” I looked to the manager.

I was taking her in his office, not mine. She looked me up and down before nodding. I was going to use my natural charm to ease her anger.

It took a full week comped during peak ski season and me paying for her stay at a competing hotel for the current week, but she left satisfied.

I walked out to the front desk and was immediately honed in on by the head of housekeeping. I sighed, knowing this was likely to be the way my weekend went. Hell, probably the next three months. Then there would be a lull, and it would be ski season.

“Let’s go in my office,” I said, resigned to learning of yet another problem.

We walked across the grounds to the building that housed our admin offices. I gestured for her to have a seat, leaving on the damn tie.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I can’t do this without at least three more full-time housekeepers.”

I had expected as much. “When?”

“Yesterday.”

I grimaced, knowing I should have hired the temps. “I’ll call the agency and see what I can get you. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a few good ones.”

She scoffed. “I doubt that, but any help would be appreciated. I can team the newbies up with one of the more experienced ladies. An extra pair of hands will help. Why do vacationers have to be so damn messy?”

I laughed. “Because they know they don’t have to clean the mess.”

“If I ever go somewhere on vacation, I will not do that to my cleaning crew. No way. Thank you, Mr. Gilroy. I need to get back over there before there is a mutiny. Do you know we had to do every single room this morning?” She shook her head in disbelief.

“I did, and I’m sorry we weren’t better prepared,” I said. “We had a lot of guests show up last night without reservations. We are at full capacity.” 

She grinned. “While that sucks for me, I think it’s kind of awesome.”

I winked. “It certainly is. Thank you for your hard work and dedication. Our reviews for cleanliness are always high, and I owe that to you.”

“Thank you,” she said, preening under the compliments. “My staff and I do try hard.”

I believed in giving credit where credit was due, and she had done a great job training and staying on top of the housekeeping crew. With the little fires put out for the moment, I could head over to my lawyer’s office for our meeting. I grabbed my briefcase and headed back out the door to find Bentley waiting for me.