Page 6 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
The smile disappeared. “I apologise for beingtoo forward. It was inappropriate, unnecessary, unprofessional, and I’m extremely sorry. I offer my deepest and most humble apologies.” That should do it. “Sir.” That definitely would.
“Hmm.”
Maybe not. The guy didn’t sound convinced.
“Are you okay?” Jonty whispered. Maybe Mr Difficult had some tragedy going on in his life. His bad temper could be down to—
“What does it have to do with you whether I’m okay or not?” the man barked.
Oh God. Rescue me someone!Jonty could feel his hands shaking and put them behind his back. “Concern for the well-being of our guests is part of my job.”
The guy gave a short laugh. “Telling a guest they look a mess most definitely isn’t. I’m amazed they’ve put someone like you behind a reception desk. You’re the face of the hotel. What are guests going to think?”
The shaking grew worse as Jonty’s self-confidence took a nosedive into shallow water. “I have a nice smile.” Though now didn’t seem to be the best time to use it. Nor mention it.
The comment brought an eyeroll. “Are you trained?”
Jonty bristled. He’d apologised. Why couldn’t the guy let this go?
“Do you know how to manage reservations and check guests in and out?” the guy asked. “How to welcome guests in a courteous manner? How to handle complaints? Emergencies? How to anticipate guests’ needs?”
Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.“Of course. Fully trained. Passed all my exams on how to say hello and goodbye in thirty-three languages. Excelled in mindreading. Full marks in spells and potions. And if any guest goes into labour, I’m sure I’ll be able to deliver the baby without mess or fuss.”
Was that too much?
“How long have you been working here?”
Said in a tone that suggested working here wouldn’t be happening for much longer.
“Five months.” Which was a lie, but Jonty hoped the implied inexperience might save his bacon.
He dropped his gaze and stared at the remains of his Flake. Right at this moment, chocolate would help. Or bacon.
“As long as that?”
Sarcastic wanker.Jonty was good at defusing guest complaints. Everyone liked him. Well, almost everyone.Pull this back.“I’ll check if your room’s been cleaned, sir. Would you like to wait in the lounge? I’ll bring you a coffee or tea.”The additional arsenic is complimentary.
“Fine.”
Jonty breathed a sigh of relief, came out from behind the desk and headed for the room opposite that had a fantastic panoramic view of the sea. Particularly spectacular today, because the weather was wild, the wind offshore, blowing from the land out to sea. He wished he was out there on his board, rather than putting his foot in it with stroppy guests. He sort of expected to hear a comment about the view, because that was what usually happened. Peopleoohedandaahed, and forgot that the hotel looked a bit tired, but the guy stayed silent, though he did choose a chair by the window.
Long legs. No ring.
Not on his finger at least.
Jonty managed to muffle his choked laugh, his good mood restored. As if this buttoned-up guy would have a piercing. He was probably straight as a ruler. The man turned to stare at him.Shit, maybe I didn’t muffle my laugh well enough.
“Coffee or tea, sir?” Jonty asked. Usingsira lot might pacify him. Another twitch of his cock made him swallow hard. Why did he always fancy impossible guys?
And you’re not equally impossible?
Picky. It’s different.
“Black coffee.”
“Please.” The word slipped from Jonty’s mouth before he could stop it, but the guy stared up at him, his silvery eyes framed by long dark lashes and said, “Please.” Then smiled in a not-smiley way.
As Jonty backed off, Major Bagshott, a tall, elderly man, came into the lounge with his long-haired miniature dachshund, Dottie, and headed for his usual chair.
