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But headhunting new customers wasn't usually part of my job.
“Did something happen to Isa?” I asked.
I was already shoving all my things into my tote when I stopped. My hair and makeup needed a little more attention before I was ready for something that important. This could be my big chance and I didn't want to screw it up.
“She's sick today,” Earl explained. “Poor thing. Some sort of stomach bug or lady problem or whatever. Anyway, I know that you've had an eye on her job when she retires later this year. I thought this would be a good opportunity to show me what you're made of. You think you can handle it?”
“Absolutely!” I answered immediately, even though I wasn't terribly sure if that was the truth.
Being a hostess involved schmoozing with the guests, making reservations, buying event tickets, and generally being their go-to for entertainment during their stay. The VP of Customer Relations – Isa's job – was similar in a lot of ways, but it was full-service. Greeting important guests at the airport, running sensitive errands...and sometimes stealing guests away from the competition.
“Good,” said Earl. “I’ll text you their descriptions. Last seen at the high stakes poker tables.”
“Uh-huh.” I applied a fresh coat of lip gloss, then moved on to a faint coating of eyeshadow. It brightened up my whole face, bringing out the cerulean blue of my eyes. I always had to be careful what make-up I used. My complexion was fair, my hair the sort of strawberry blonde that would clash with certain colors.
“And Briana,” Earl drawled, “don't screw this up. I'm making my decision for the VP job in the next couple of weeks, so Isa has time to train her replacement. You're my favorite for it now, but only because I think you'd be great at the job. If you can't, my next best choice is Angelica.”
No. Pressure.
And hell no. I'd be damned before I let Angelica Hawkins take my promotion from me. The VP job was mine. Once I had it, I'd be able to end things with Sinclair and focus all my time on my little girl.
“I won't let you down.”
I hung up the phone and finished freshening up when the text came up on my phone. Not much of a description but it would do. After applying more mascara and making the best of my hair's rumpled appearance, I stepped back into the room.
“You look good,” Sinclair said as he gave me a quick glance. “Where are you off to?”
“Something for work,” I explained.
His smile was kind but didn't have the warmth a person might expect from two people who'd been sharing a bed for as long as we had. Still, I appreciated what he said next. “Knock 'em dead.”
I smiled back. “I will, thanks.”
I left the room and hustled down the hallway as quickly as possible, while texting Elroy telling him that I’d pick up Mikala tomorrow morning instead of in a couple hours. I had no idea how long this thing was going to take. He offered some short, clearly irritated reply, but I didn't take the bait. I wanted – no, needed – to believe he loved her, but he sometimes did a damn poor job of showing it.
Okay, most of the time. He was never mean toward her, but indifference was often just as bad.
But now wasn't the time to be angry or consider the sixteen thousand ways in which I’d fucked up my life. Now was the time to put on my biggest smile and my best foot forward. I had no idea what to expect from these two high rollers, but I needed to charm them over to my side. No matter what. My career rested on this. My independence from men rested on this.
Everything I knew and held dear rested on this opportunity.
I couldn't fuck it up.
