Page 33 of Spring Break with a Bodyguard
“Sir, we need to speak with you privately regarding some items found in your office,” the officer states firmly.
The color drains from Roberts’ face. “What items? You had no right to search my office!”
“We received information about potentially stolen property,” the second officer explains. “Mr. Conrad here alerted us to the situation and provided evidence of tracking devices showing multiple stolen items converging in your private office.”
The reporters quickly pivot toward this new drama. Cameras flash as Roberts is escorted away, his protests fading into the background.
Javi makes his way to my side, his mouth close to my ear. “Found everything in a hidden compartment in his desk. Plus logs detailing every theft, guest room numbers, item values—he was keeping records for insurance fraud.”
Relief floods through me. “The perfect distraction,” I murmur back, fighting the urge to lean into him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he warns, his expression serious. “You’ve just outed yourself to the entire Love Beach media. Preston’s going to have questions.”
As if summoned by his name, my phone buzzes—Preston. My stomach tightens.
“I should take this,” I tell Javi, stepping away from the continuing media frenzy.
“Theodora,” Preston’s voice is eerily calm when I answer. “Would you care to explain why there’s currently a live feed of you giving a press conference in a housekeeping uniform at The Sandpiper?”
“It’s a long story,” I begin as the police continue questioning Roberts. “But the short version is—we caught your hotel manager running a theft ring, and I may have accidentally revolutionized Hollister Hotels’ approach to management training.”
There’s a long pause before Preston responds. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Don’t say another word to the press until I arrive.”
The line goes dead. I take a deep breath, turning back to the chaos. Reporters now divide their attention between the police drama with Roberts and attempts to get more comments from me. Hotel guests livestream everything. Carmen and several housekeeping staff have emerged from the back, their expressions ranging from shock to amusement.
Javi appears at my side again, his expression questioning. “Preston?”
“On his way,” I confirm, my voice tight. “Twenty minutes to prepare for hurricane Preston.”
To my surprise, Javi’s lips curve into a rare smile—one that transforms his serious face and reaches all the way to his eyes. “After watching you handle this media circus, I think you’ll manage just fine.”
“You think so?” I ask, uncertainty creeping in despite our success.
“Plans change,” he says simply. “But you adapted. Turned a potential disaster into a positive story. Used the spotlight to advocate for the staff rather than yourself.” His eyes meet mine, warm with something that makes my heart skip. “That’s leadership, Teddy. Real leadership.”
Coming from Javi—stoic, no-nonsense, impossible-to-impress Javi—the praise wraps around me like a warm blanket.
“We make a good team,” I say.
“We do,” he agrees. Then, glancing around at the media still circling, he adds, “Though our undercover days are definitely over.”
I laugh despite everything. “Probably for the best. I’m not sure my back could handle another week of housekeeping anyway.”
“What happens now?” Javi asks, his expression growing more serious. “With your experiment cut short?”
It’s a good question. My three-week plan has been compressed into eight days and an unexpected media spectacle. In some ways, I’ve failed—I didn’t complete the full time I promised. In others, I’ve succeeded beyond expectation—uncovering a theft ring, standing up for the staff, even generating positive PR.
“I guess that depends on Preston,” I say as more reporters notice us talking and begin heading our way. “But whatever happens next, I’m glad I did this. All of it.”
Even as the words leave my mouth, I realize how true they are. The aching muscles, the humbling work, the vulnerability of starting at the bottom—it’s all been worth it. Not just for what I’ve learned about the hotel business, but for what I’ve learned about myself.
And for who I’ve found along the way, I think, glancing at Javi.
As the reporters descend on us again with fresh questions, I straighten my housekeeping uniform one last time.
Whatever happens next—with Preston, with the media, with my future at Hollister Hotels—I’ll face it with new confidence.
Because Theresa Holden may have been a disguise, but the work ethic, determination, and sense of purpose I discovered while wearing that uniform? Those are genuinely mine.
