Page 19 of Love Fast

“There’s no need to feel intimidated,” Hazel says. “We’ll role-play a lot of scenarios, and there are work-arounds to everything.” Her smile is warm and encouraging, but I can’thelpfeeling intimidated. Checking in cars for service at Frank’s dealership was a job I’d done for two years. I could do it with my eyes closed. It was just a few clicks on a mouse, filling out a name and address, and asking the customer a couple of questions I read from the screen. This sounds much more complicated.

“Let’s start here,” Hazel says, her attention pulled toward the enormous flower arrangement on the round, polished table in the center of the lobby. “A member might ask you what flowers are in the arrangement.”

Jesus, were we all going to be trained in floristry now too?

“We don’t expect you to be able to keep up with the different arrangements here or elsewhere throughout the resort, but there’s a full list in reception at all times. So all you would say is, ‘We use a local florist. I can get you full details.’ Then you would tell your supervisor of the request and either you or your supervisor would retrieve the details and bring them to the member. Reception will have the information on a beautifully presented card with a scannable QR code, which allows the member to order an arrangement with the same or different flowers for their accommodation. Does that make sense?”

I swallow as I realize the expectations these guests are going to have of us. Of me.

“What’s the average length of stay for a guest?” Akira asks. “Will we get a chance to get to know them?”

Hazel smiles. “We refer to people staying here asmembers. Ormembers and their guests. So if you’re staying in the resort, you’re either a member or the guest of a member. We want people to feel they belong here. This is their home away from home. Indeed, some of the members will own lodges here.”

We must look a little shell-shocked, because Hazel smiles. Again. Maybe a little too wide this time. “It will take some getting used to, but we recruited you because we know you’re capable of providing the level of service we aim to provide.”

“It’s a lot,” Eden says. “But no pain, no gain. We’ll probably need to know about the owner of the place too, won’t we?”

“We’re not going to overload you on your first day. Today we’ll be focusing on the tour so you can understand the layout of the resort.”

“Sounds good,” I say, before Eden can reveal her real motivation for taking this job.

“First on our tour are our four main restaurants. You’ll get a sense of the difference in vibe. All three of you will be working primarily in Autumn, but it’s important you know all the restaurants so you can advise our members accordingly. You’ll be required to cover in other restaurants from time to time, depending on bookings and staffing levels.”

We follow Hazel along the corridor, down some steps into the first restaurant of our trip—Blossom. Its booths are pink velvet and the color scheme somehow contrasts beautifully with the gray blue of the sky beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. As we walk through the restaurant, I notice how the staff are dressed exactly like us. I guess we’ll all fade into the background when the members are here.

It feels like a very different world to one I’ve ever visited before. If I’d married Frank, I wouldn’t know places like the Colorado Club existed. I wouldn’t understand that waiters and waitresses for the seriously wealthy don’t dress the same as normal waitstaff. It feels like I’ve woken up on a different planet. It’s certainly a world away from Oregon. I’m surrounded by people I’ve known for less than an hour, in a town I’ve been in just over two days. All I can think is how I was about to get married and cement my future when I knew so little of the world.

Eden’s looking around, probably trying to spot the wealthy, gay owner of the Colorado Club.

“Here we are at Blossom. It’s our fine-dining restaurant. Some members will want to eat here all the time, but we think most will come here once or twice a week.”

The tables are very spread out and the space seems small. Then again, I don’t have much to compare it to. I’ve only ever been out to dinner with Frank and he just wanted the best steak. Fine dining wasn’t really his scene. Hazel keeps talking about the chefs and the menu, and I mentally rush to commit it all to memory. I wish I had my cell, so I could take notes, but it’s strictly forbidden to have a personal phone while you’re on shift.

“Did you see that guy in the suit?” Eden whispers as we trail Hazel toward the kitchen. I was focused on Hazel, worrying about how I’ll remember to pronouncefois grascorrectly.

Eden turns her head and I follow her gaze. Three men head in the opposite direction, so all I see is their backs. Living next door to Byron has done a real number on me. I swear, I’m imagining him everywhere. It’s just, the middle guy is about the same height and has the same broad shoulders.

“The guy in the middle?” I ask. As well as broad shoulders, he also has a nice ass. I haven’t noticed Byron’s ass, but I make a mental note to check it out next time I see him. Maybe that will be tonight. I don’t know why he’s filling up my head when I have so much else to think about. I keep thinking about how open he was, talking about his family. Like we’re already close confidants or something. Mom always told us we should keep ourselves to ourselves—keep it in the family, she’d say. So while I’ve never before had the kind of bare-your-soul conversation Byron and I shared, with him, it felt entirely natural.

She shakes her head. “The one on the left. You think that’s the owner?”

I shrug. I want to tell Eden that marrying a man because he’s rich might not make her happy, but I know there’s no point. Maybe it will be enough for her. It wouldn’t have been for me. I don’t know whatwillbe enough for me, now that I’ve cut my tether to the life I thought I had to have in Oregon. But Star Falls might be the place where I start to figure it out.

NINE

Byron

I shouldn’t be here. I’m playing with fire, dancing with danger—whatever the metaphor. I should stand up, take my hot chocolate inside and return some calls or watch the game. I should do literally anything but stand here on my front porch, waiting for Rosey Williams.

But here I am.

After I saw her earlier today at the Club, I asked my assistant to remind me when I’d signed off on the waitstaff uniforms. I hadn’t expected a plain black pantsuit to be so provocative. Maybe it was justwhowas wearing it that made the uniform seem so suggestive. Rosey looked sexy as fuck, her hair swept up, giving easy access to her neck. Then there was the way the vest clung to her torso, emphasizing her curves and small waist. I’d never even noticed the uniforms until today. Until I saw Rosey in hers.

I don’t know why I ended up telling her about my family background yesterday. For some reason, I wanted to share with her. Not that I’ve revealed the whole story. Like the fact that I’m the owner of the Colorado Club.

Will she be pissed I didn’t tell her? Not that she’d have any right to be—I mean, we hardly know each other. Except it feels like we do. Or we… should. Maybe I’m hoping she’ll feel like Ishouldhave told her. Like I owe her something because—because what? We shared a mug of hot chocolate and a conversation?

I’m being ridiculous.

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