Home > The Rivals(9)

The Rivals(9)
Author: Vi Keeland

He flashed a gratified smile.

I nodded toward the conference room door. “Outside in the hall.” I turned back to Louis. “Excuse me for just one minute, please.”

“Take your time.”

Once we were in the hall, I looked around to make sure no staff were in the vicinity. Planting my hands on my hips, I attempted to keep my voice down. “What the hell? We have a full day of meetings. What’s so important that you’re ditching?”

Like he’d done last night, Weston wrapped a lock of my hair around his finger and gave it a firm tug. “You can handle it, Fifi. You’re a people pleaser. I’m sure you’ll have all the staff feeling like the old bat kicking the bucket was a good thing by the time you’re done.”

I slapped his hand away from my hair. “I’m not your secretary. What you miss is your problem. Don’t expect me to report back to you.”

In response, the jerk winked. I freaking hated winkers. “Have a good day, beautiful.”

“Don’t call me that!”

And just like that, Weston Lockwood walked away.

The man made me nuts. Good riddance to the jerk.

I definitely didn’t need him in the meetings.

I definitely was better off without him.

In fact, come to think of it, the only place the jerk was useful was in the bedroom.

And I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

That was for damn sure.

 

***

 

I settled back in for my meeting with Louis.

“So, as you know, the hotel is now owned by the Sterling and Lockwood families,” I said. “Each family owns a forty-nine percent share, and two percent is owned by a local charity Ms. Copeland supported here in the City.”

Louis smiled fondly. “Easy Feet.”

I nodded. “That’s right.”

The charity Grace had left a two-percent stake to was an interesting one—run by one man with an annual budget of less than fifty-thousand dollars. The two-percent stake in The Countess was worth probably a hundred times that annual budget. No wonder the guy had been so anxious to sell his stake to one of us.

“Did Ms. Copeland have a personal reason for such a large donation to that charity? Not that it isn’t a great organization, but it’s pretty specific.”

Louis leaned back into his chair and nodded. His eyes were warm as he spoke. “Leo Farley. He works in housekeeping.”

The name didn’t ring a bell. “An employee got her interested in the charity?”

“About six years ago, Leo was homeless. Long story, but he’d had a rough year. Lost his job, wife died, got evicted from his apartment, daughter committed suicide—all within the span of a few months. He sometimes slept in the alley around the corner, right next to the hotel’s service entrance. Ms. Copeland went out for two walks a day, like clockwork at ten AM and three PM, just a few blocks each time. One afternoon, she ran into Otto Potter outside, and he was treating Leo’s feet.”

“Otto Potter is the guy who runs Easy Feet?”

Louis nodded. “That’s right. He’s a retired podiatrist. A lot of homeless people have trouble with their feet—untreated diabetes, walking around not wearing shoes, infections—all sorts of issues. He started Easy Feet to help the people here in the City who weren’t walking on Easy Street. He and a few other volunteers go around and treat guys like Leo, right on the street.”

“But Leo works here now?”

“Ms. Copeland took a liking to him. Once his feet got better, Leo started walking with her. Eventually she offered him a job. He’s been employee of the month more times than any other employee. Works hard.”

“Wow. That’s a great story.”

Louis smiled proudly. “Got plenty of ’em when it comes to Ms. Copeland. She was a real good person. Very loyal.”

Considering what she’d left to the two men who’d once loved her, I’d say that was an understatement. It was good news for me, because loyal employers usually meant loyal employees, and I was hoping for smooth sailing while stuck here overseeing the hotel and protecting my family’s interest.

Steering our conversation back to the reason for our meeting, I lifted a pen from on top of the notebook I’d brought. “So, tell me about the operations at The Countess. Is everything running smoothly? Are there any issues or concerns you’d like to point me to as I become familiar with how things run?”

Louis pointed to my pad. “Good thing you brought that notebook.”

Uh-oh.

“First, there’s the looming strike.”

“Strike?”

“Ms. Copeland was generous and loyal, but she also kept the reins very tight when it came to managing things. I’m the hotel’s manager. I oversee all the day-to-day operations, but she personally handled the business aspect of things. She was sick for a long time, and some of the things that needed handling didn’t get handled.”

I sighed and wrote down: Strike. “Okay, tell me all the details you know about the union issues.”

Forty minutes later, I had six pages of notes on just the first problem.

“Anything else?” Please say no.

Louis frowned. “I’d say the next biggest problem is the double-booked weddings.”

My brows rose. “Double-booked weddings?”

He nodded. “I’m sure you know, The Countess is one of the most in-demand venues for events.”

“Yes, sure.”

“Well, we have two ballrooms. The Grand Palace and The Imperial Salon. They book up to three years in advance.”

“Okay…”

“About two years ago, we started to take reservations for The Sundeck. It’s an exact replica of The Imperial Salon but also with a private rooftop sundeck.”

“I didn’t realize there was a rooftop sundeck.”

He shook his head. “There isn’t. That’s part of the problem. Construction is barely even started up there, or in the new main ballroom space. And the weddings we booked two years ago are approaching pretty fast. The clients booked expecting to have an outdoor cocktail hour or service. We have the first one coming up in only three months. As you can imagine, the hotel serves some very influential families. The first event is for the niece of the mayor.”

My eyes widened. Shit.

Things continued to go downhill from there. While from a visitor’s perspective, the grand hotel appeared in tiptop shape, it had a laundry list of major issues that had been building over a long period of time. And now those issues were my issues. Over the next three-and-a-half hours, Louis unloaded problem after problem. We had so much to discuss that I had to reschedule the other appointments I’d made with senior managers this morning. By the time we finished our meeting, my head was spinning.

I stood at the door of the conference room. “Thank you so much for filling me in on everything today.”

He smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing there are two of you. There’s a lot of work to do.”

Weston Lockwood was the last thing on my mind, and Louis saw the confusion on my face.

“I was referring to Mr. Lockwood,” he said, “meaning it must be nice to have someone in the trenches with you to handle all of this.”

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