Page 52 of Culinary Chaos
“Will you talk to the hotel staff about it?” Hope put her hand back on Angelica’s elbow. She wanted to make sure that Angelica was feeling better, right? It had nothing to do with wanting and needing to touch her to make sure that she was okay.
“I don’t know.” Angelica looked over Hope’s shoulder at something before locking her eyes back on Hope.
The blues in Angelica’s eyes were so light and pale that in this lighting, and with the dark black suit that she was wearing, her eyes looked gray. How many other colors could they change depending on the situation? Hope wanted to know.
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because it’s not my responsibility to tell them what to do.”
“Do you think John will listen to us?”
“No,” Angelica said so calmly that it unnerved her. “No, I don’t think he will.”
“So when we pack up to leave in a couple of days, what are all the people here going to do?” Hope squeezed Angelica’s arm.
“They’re either going to quit and find a new job or they’re going to work here until John and Nova burn it to the ground. I can tell them what I’d do in the situation, but that’s all the advice I can give them. The decision has to be theirs.” Angelica lifted the glass to her lips and took another long sip. “Thanks for the water. I think I just forgot to eat.”
“Forgot to… eat…” Hope jumped from work to personal, immediately switching modes to once again taking care of Angelica. “I can add in an order for you in the kitchen, if you’d like.”
“That’d be good. Thanks.” Angelica gave her a brief smile and handed the glass back over before taking a step and putting some distance between them. “If John comes back into the kitchen tonight, please let me know.”
“Immediately or…?” Hope held the sweating glass in both her hands.
“Immediately,” Angelica confirmed. “I don’t like bullies.”
Just that one statement put more ease in Hope’s heart than anything else that had happened since they’d arrived there. She nodded her understanding and stayed put while Angelica walked back inside, followed by the camera that was designated as hers.
Just what the hell footage would they use from that?
Hope prayed it was nothing.
Chapter
Eighteen
“Walk with me,” Angelica said, locking her eyes on Hope’s.
The wrap party this time with the hotel staff and management and owners felt very different than when they were in Dallas. Even Angelica could figure that out. And she really didn’t want to stay there any longer than she had to.
“O…kay?” Hope asked, setting her glass of champagne down.
“We need to talk.” Angelica pressed her lips together hard and started to walk toward the door of the dining room. She needed to escape this hotel as fast as she could. She was tired of being here, tired of fighting battles she would never win, and tired of watching people refuse to dig themselves out of the holes they’d put themselves into.
She never wanted to come back here.
And with the way John and Nova were going, she probably never would. Unless she bought up the hotel herself and turned it around that way. She snorted at that thought. The last thing she needed was another hotel to manage—or own. She was still on a search for a replacement for Leanne.
Not that Leanne could ever be replaced.
Angelica walked swiftly, making her way down the hallway, away from the crowd of people, and into the hotel. Everything here was so quiet. All of the film crew were at the wrap party, as were most of the staff of the hotel anyway.
“Angel, hold up.”
Angelica froze. She turned slowly with wide eyes. Hope had meant to call her that. And it sent a thrill through her. A thrill that she really needed to avoid, because Angelica knew exactly what that meant.
“What are we talking about?” Hope sounded slightly out of breath, and her eyes were wide with fear. “Is something about my performance not good?”
“No,” Angelica said, her brain still not firing on all cylinders after the nickname was thrown at her. Her father had called her that as a kid, but he was the only one other than her little brother. In fact, they still called her that when they talked, which had become rarer by the day.
