A Tablespoon of Temptation (A Recipe for Love Novel Book 1) Page 2

  “You’re such a gigolo.”

  “Yes, I am, but at least I have a home, and I’m not bunking with my sister at my father’s place.”

  “I’m not sharing a room with Allie. That’s just gross. She has the west wing of the house. I have the east.”

  “Remember the parties we had at college. I miss those,” Julian sighed.

  “Grow up, man, you’re racing toward forty. Can’t be Peter Pan your whole life.”

  “I’m thirty-six, and I can try.”

  “I brought bagels,” Allie said as she entered.

  “Epstein’s or Abrams'?” James always believed quality was in the ingredients, and while Epstein’s put out a good product, nothing beat a bagel with a long family history. The Abrams arrived in Aspen from New York decades ago, bringing with them the best bagels in the country.

  She huffed. “Abrams, of course.” She turned to James. “I got that disgusting veggie cream cheese you like.”

  “What about the honey spread for me?” Julian asked.

  “I always take care of you because you can’t take care of yourself.”

  Julian laughed. “I can, but I don’t have to when you do everything for me.”

  She set the box on the table. “Pour me a cup, and let’s get started. You two are wasting my Saturday.”

  James knew that wasn’t the truth. Allie did nothing on the weekends but binge-watch television and crochet. He had a two-foot stack of unused afghans next to his sofa. When he asked her why she insisted on crocheting so many, she told him it kept her hands out of the cookie jar.

  “Is everything signed?” he asked. Julian was the numbers and contracts guy.

  “We’re good to go.” He slid a folder to each one of them. “Open to page one, and let’s go over the details.”

  During the next two hours, they talked about the different phases to bring their newest acquisition into the Luxe family. This was the tenth property they had acquired. They’d opened one a year since they’d gone into business together. This would be the last for a while. Moving from location to location was exhausting. He and Allie had come full circle and were back to the place they’d once called home. As for Julian … he was happy wherever there were women.

  “Are you staying under the radar again?” Allie asked. She smeared a bagel with plain cream cheese.

  “No, I’m blending in. Working the construction side of the business allows me anonymity.” He rose and headed for the coffee pot, which was almost empty. “You know I love the building and remodeling part, and I like to mingle with the people. Being inconspicuous allows me to see how things run.” He plopped back into his chair. “When I arrive in jeans and steel-toed boots, people don’t feel threatened. If someone asked point-blank if I was an owner, I’d tell them exactly who I am, but they never do.” He pointed from Allie to Julian. “When you two arrive looking straight out of the boardroom, people stop talking.”

  “Not true. Everyone talks to me.” Allie took a bite of her bagel and set the rest aside.

  “'Where did you get those shoes’, doesn’t count.”

  “It does if I’m in the gift shop.” She pulled out the last sheet of paper and scanned it with squinting eyes. “Let’s go over the management.”

  Julian took his pen and starred a few names on his page. “After looking through the financials, I have concerns about a few people.”

  “Let’s start at the top. What about the general manager, Avis Barber?” James asked.

  “Gone,” Allie answered.

  “That bad?” He brought his half-filled cup to his lips.

  “We didn’t fire her, she quit.” Allie lifted a sheet of paper into the air. “This was in my email inbox at the close of business yesterday.”

  Julian crossed her name off his list. “Good. One less worry. Besides, she wasn’t overseeing her departments well. Outdoor recreation has been running at a deficit for years. That should be a place where we’re making a killing. With the equipment paid for, the only expense should be upkeep and labor.” He circled that department on his page. “Food and beverage are the same. They aren’t efficient.”

  James looked at the names. “What about Danielle Morgan? She’s in charge of guest relations.”

  Julian leaned back in his chair. “Feedback on her is good, although reservations are down. It might be best if we replace all the management and start fresh.”

  “Let’s see what we’re dealing with before we swing the ax.” James rummaged through the pile of pages to find the financials for her department. “A decrease in reservations can be a symptom of many things, like poor upper management, the condition of the property, and the increase in resorts fees.”

  They’d spent months in negotiations with Atlas Properties for this location. The old company had invested little in the infrastructure over the years, and it showed in dwindling revenue, which was a blessing for Luxe because they’d wanted to get their hands on a property in or near Aspen for years. Timberline was a sleeper community and the perfect location for an all-inclusive resort.

  “How long will it take to get our new offices built?”

  “Once I evaluate the space, I should have them finished within thirty days. We can move our offices over to the resort and let go of the rented space in this building.” They didn’t need to consolidate. They were hugely profitable with their business model, but they didn’t believe in waste either. With properties in Vale, Breckinridge, San Diego, San Francisco, New York, Miami, London, Paris and Beijing, they were bringing all-inclusive to the world. They hoped to nab a property in Sydney, one in Morocco, maybe one in St Petersburg someday. The options were limitless. “Can we bring Tony with us? I’ll miss his smiling face.”

  Allie laughed. “Do you have a man-crush?”

  “Nope, but I think he’s a good guy and a hard worker.” He thought about Tony’s five kids, and Joleen, his wife for over a decade. “Just thinking about people who commit to their jobs. I respect Tony for the work he’s done in this building. He always has a smile, and he’s willing to go above and beyond.”

  “You’re right.” She jotted his name on the top of the page. “Let’s find him a job.”

  “If that’s all we have to go over, I’m heading to the site to get a sneak peek before all hell breaks loose on Monday.”

  “You’ll be here for the management meeting, right?”

  He nodded toward the adjoining room. The one behind the mirror they used for opinion polls. “I’ll sit in, but incognito.” He patted the conference table. “You know this isn’t my thing. You two be the brains, and I’ll be the brawn.”

  Julian smiled. “You want us to keep you out of the press release?”

  James shook his head. “Nah, release under my legal name. No one knows that I’m Alistair Parks Jr.” His father owned the naming disasters in the family. Since their mother’s name was Allison, he thought it would be good to stick with A names. With a sister named Allie, and a dog named Alimony, he’d rebelled and went by his middle name, James.

  He stood and moved toward the door. “You know where to find me.”

  Walking into a new property was like drinking a double shot latte. Energy coursed through his veins as if he’d mainlined his caffeine that morning. There was so much that needed fixing in this location, including getting rid of the giant fake floral arrangement that blocked the view of the lobby. It was as good as a stop sign.

  He pulled his keycard from his pocket and entered the last elevator on the right. It was the only one that reached the executive offices. The doors opened to a darkened hallway. The hum of computer fans filled the air. That and the scent of fresh-brewed coffee.

  He lifted his nose and followed the smell. Confetti colored carpet ate up the noise of his steel-toed boots. The smell of dark roast carried him down the hallway like the fluff of a dandelion caught on a breeze.

  He turned into the only lighted space and leaned on the doorjamb. All he could see was the backside of a woman. Those curves could n
ever belong to a man. She poured herself a cup of coffee and then waterfalled sugar into her mug.

  “There are easier ways to die than a diabetic coma.”

  She dropped the sugar container, which landed on the edge of her cup, catapulting it into the air and all over her shirt.

  She hopped back, but there was no escaping the heat that bled into the pink cotton. “Holy hell.” She pulled the material away from her skin. “Who are you?” She reached for the paper towels at the same time he did, their hands colliding midair.

  He pulled out several and pressed them against the stain. “I’m so sorry to scare you.”

  She swiped them from his hand and began blotting the mess.

  “This is a total loss.” She huffed out a sigh. “I loved this shirt.”

  With her head down, he hadn’t seen her face, but as she lifted her eyes to meet his, he saw they were the most beautiful hazel. Not blue and green hazel, but brown and green with a ring the color of the sun at the center.

  “I’m sorry for your loss. Should we have a funeral service?”

  “A comedian, huh?” She stared at him. “Who are you?”

  He crumbled the towels she’d placed on the counter and tossed them into the trash. “I’m James.”

  “Tell me, James, what are you doing here?”

  “Outside of ruining your shirt?” He stared at how the cotton sucked against her skin. How every peak and valley of her upper body showed. “I’m … checking things out.”

  “Do you have a reason to be in the executive offices on a Saturday afternoon?”

  “I do. Do you?”

  “I’m Danielle Morgan. Manager of guest relations.”

  Ah, the woman they’d discussed briefly not too long ago. Her job also included concierge services, the front desk, and reservations. He would expect to find her here Monday through Friday, but not on the weekend.

  “Do you normally work weekends?”

  “I practically live here, but that doesn’t explain your presence.” She looked past him to the phone. “Should I worry? Do I need to call security?”

  He pulled out his keycard and employee identification card, which he flashed at her quickly, then tucked them back into his pocket. “I’m allowed. I came here to look at the offices. We’ll be reconfiguring the workspace starting next week. Figured it would be good to get a lay of the land first.”

  “We?” It was his first day, and he’d already blown his cover. When he said we, he fully meant Allie, Julian, and himself, but she didn’t know that.

  “My crew. We’re starting work on Monday.”

  “So, you’re the one hired by the new owners.”

  “I am. Would you care to show me around?”

  She glanced down at her T-shirt, which left little to the imagination. “Give me a minute to change, and I’ll be glad to give you the ten-cent tour.” She scurried from the break area.

  While he waited, he poured himself a cup of coffee and took in the space. It was awful. Chipped Formica counters held a stained plastic coffee maker and a microwave that was at least ten years old. The amenities for the employees were dismal. They weren’t much better for the guests.

  She raced back, tucking a white blouse into her jeans. “Sorry about that.” She picked up her coffee and led him down the hallway. “You’ve seen the break area.” She turned a corner into a large room divided into cubicles. “These are the management offices.”

  “You mean cubicles.”

  “That’s what they are. However, that’s not what we’re trained to call them. You know … appearances and all.” She set her cup on a tidy desk labeled with her name. “This is where the other department heads and I work.” She looked over her shoulder. “That office belongs to the general manager, Avis.”

  “She’s gone,” he blurted without thought.

  Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh my, did they fire her?” Her eyes grew big. “She’s not dead, is she?”

  He was exchanging information that, in reality, he shouldn’t have known if he was merely a construction lead.

  “No idea,” he said. “They told me to start at this end and work my way down. I assumed she left.”

  He walked into the enormous office and looked around. Why the general manager needed this kind of space was beyond him. Realigned, he could repurpose the square footage for several offices. He pointed to a door at the back of the room.

  “Where does that lead to?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure, but rumor has it there’s an apartment hidden behind that door.”

  “A what? Avis needed an apartment?”

  “I think it was there from when the original owners of the resort lived on site. Then when it sold to Atlas Inc., there was a rumor the CEO kept his mistress there. I think there’s an elevator that goes to the garage. Avis never entered through the common area. She seemed to teleport, so I figure at least part of the rumor was true.”

  “That’s just insane. Why have an apartment when there’s an entire hotel at your disposal?”

  She lifted her shoulders. “I couldn’t say.”

  Several long strides and he was at the door. When he swung it open, he was surrounded in luxury. He’d been in the resort’s guestrooms. He’d even visited the suites. None of them were decorated as tastefully as this. The floors were marble. The draperies silk. The furnishings custom.

  “Wow.” Danielle moved through the living area to the kitchen and touched the espresso machine. “No wonder Avis didn’t spend time in the break room.”

  “I’m surprised anyone does. More surprised that, as the guest relations and reservation manager, you’d be clueless about this space. Shouldn’t you know everything about this hotel?”

  Her jaw dropped open. “For your information Mr. …” She stared at his chest as if looking for his name tag.

  “James, just James.” He leaned against the wall and watched the fuse he lit burn.

  Her outrage showed in the flames spreading from her chest to her cheeks. He could tell a lot about a person by the way they filtered their anger. What would the lovely Ms. Morgan do?

  “Okay, Mr. Just James. I’m very good at what I do. There are several areas of this hotel I’ve not been in, like the boiler room. You know why?”

  A smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “No, tell me.”

  “Because I can’t rent the space out. I don’t hang out in the garage, the ski equipment rentals, or the kitchen. There are managers in charge of those departments.” She swirled her hand in the air. “This is not a room I can rent, so it’s irrelevant to me.”

  “Half the resort is vacant.” He wanted to bite his tongue. It was more information he shouldn’t have had.

  “How would you know?”

  “I’ll be remodeling the rooms. So much easier to remove an outdated bathtub when someone’s not soaking in it.”

  “Mr. James.”

  “Just James.”

  She huffed. “This is a large resort with many areas that need improvement. We are entering off-season. I can only speak to the area I’m responsible for, but I’m a damn sorcerer with managing reservations. I run a five-star resort on a motel budget. What do you know about running a resort?”

  “I know that this one is outdated and wouldn’t have sold if it was profitable.”

  “And somehow that’s my fault?”

  “It’s everyone’s fault. A business is like a relationship. If it’s nourished and cared for, it thrives. Otherwise, it fails.” He turned and walked out of the apartment. “I’ll see you Monday morning.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  As he entered the elevator, he laughed. Danielle Morgan entertained him, and it had been a long time since a woman made him feel anything but agitation.

  Chapter 3

  Danielle

  “Damn man kept me awake all night long.” Danielle rushed around the house, gathering her purse and giving herself a final look in the mirror. She brushed at the dark circles under her eyes
and growled. How was it a man she’d just met could enter her dreams? Dreams that made her toss and turn and heat the entire night.

  Her phone rang. Expecting it to be Trish, she answered, “I’m on my way. I promised I wouldn’t be late, and I won’t.” She rushed out the door to her SUV. As she rounded the back, she thought about the books she’d bought yesterday.

  “Most people start a conversation with hello.” His was a voice she recognized and loathed.

  “What do you want, Chris?”

  He chuckled. “I’d love to know where you’re going. Got a date?”

  “None of your business.” She’d never tell him she was meeting a matchmaker. There would be no end to the jeering she’d receive if he knew. “Why did you call?”

  “Did you get the email?”

  She climbed into the driver’s side and started the engine. If she didn’t get moving, she’d definitely be late.

  “What email?”

  “From Luxe? You know the company that recently took over, or have you been living under a rock?”

  As she backed out of her driveway, someone laid on their horn and swerved to miss her. “You’re distracting me. I almost got hit.”

  “I take it that’s a no.”

  She pulled onto the road and headed toward Aspen, where Trish’s Aunt Freida lived. If she was lucky, she’d make it with a few seconds to spare.

  “I haven’t read it. What does it say?”

  “Mandatory meeting for department heads at Luxe Resorts offices in Aspen tomorrow at ten.”

  The words rolled around in her brain. A mandatory meeting couldn’t be good. “Supposedly, Avis left.” It was no longer a rumor in her mind. She’d been in the office and saw that all the ceramic clowns Avis collected were no longer on the shelves. It was as if she’d never been there.

  “Shit. You think they’ll fire us all?”

  “Doubt it. I’m sure they’ll look at each of us individually.” It was a jab toward him because his record would never stand on its own. Now she knew why he called. “You’re afraid I’ll throw you under the bus to save my ass, aren’t you?”