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“Carry on, Jellybean,” I said, turning off my ringer before putting my phone face down on my desk.
“I told her I couldn’t upgrade her room for free, and she threatened to give her followers a bad review of the hotel. She said she’s an influencer.” Reagan rolled her eyes, and it might have just been the most adorable thing I had seen all day.
“Are her followers significant enough to affect my business?” I didn’t know anything about influencers, but I knew that the larger their online following, the more significant their impact could be. We had guests who stayed here that did increase our occupancy rate with their videos and posts.
“Three-hundred-thousand? In my experience, that couldn’t make a difference.”
“Is that what put her off? Because you told her she couldn’t get a free upgrade?”
“No.”
“What was it then?”
“I told her—more like threatened her—that a post from a worker at a hotel about how entitled she was could ruin her career.”
“You threatened our guest?” How could something so petty escalate to this?
“I also told her I had four hundred and fifty-thousand followers on Instagram. That pissed her off the most.”
I was speechless—dumbfounded, really—that this was happening. Over social media followers. But that was Reagan, I guess. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut when she knew she was being wronged. And it was an admirable quality I wished more people possessed.
But that didn’t change the fact that I had a loose cannon working for my hotel. A beautiful, blonde cannon.
“Okay,” I finally said, having decided on a verdict about all of this. “I can understand that some guests can be impolite and demanding, but we’re a hotel of a certain class, and we’re known for our elite staff who know how to handle guests.”
Reagan listened patiently, yet she looked like she wanted to give me more of what was running through her mind.
“So for a week, you’re going to be an hour early here. I think that’s fair enough.”
“Seven a.m.?” she complained, her jaw dropped. “You expect me to start work at Seven in the morning.”
“You’d rather I suspend you?”
“I’d rather you give a first warning.”
Then I recalled her interview, saying that she still had trouble navigating the city. Besides, a tired employee would be of no use to me. I didn’t know how Reagan got her way out of this, but the next thing I knew, I agreed with her.
“Fine. You’re right. This is your one and only warning. The next time I hear about you arguing with the guests, you work starting an hour before your scheduled shift for a month.” She opened her mouth to complain, but I raised a finger to keep her quiet before she could persuade me again. “You may leave my office, Ms. St. James.”
She glared at me, grabbing her bag and stomping her way out of the office. And as she did, I watched her body sway seductively until she was out of sight.
***
Twenty minutes after I sent Reagan out, I also cleared up my office. I knew I didn’t do a lot of work today because of my parents’ surprise visit, but I was physically exhausted. And the thing with Reagan ran through my mind all day.
She was always on my mind these days. And even though I opened the window on my small balcony, her scent still lingered in my office. I thought that maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me.
I knew she had me wrapped around her fingers. Even my cock was responding to the way I was thinking about her right now as I stepped out of my office.
The sweet melody of the piano made me halt mid-step. The tune was familiar, serene, and graceful. It was Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy.
I stepped towards the empty banquet hall where the sound was coming from, and if I hadn’t been attracted to her before, I was now.
Reagan was sitting in front of the piano, her back towards the door so she couldn’t see me admiring her from the entrance. Her head was bobbing freely along with the dreamy tune as it echoed through the walls, her fingers expertly dancing along the piano's ivory keys.
And before I knew it, I had stepped deeper into the room—towards her.
Chapter six
