Was the site down? He didn’t have any experience when it came to dating apps, so why Vivian’s profile wouldn’t load had him utterly perplexed. Bryce searched the FAQs, then quietly swore. She had deleted her profile. Vivian Holte was no longer a member of the millionaire dating community.
“Damn. Now what am I am going to do?”
He dropped the phone onto his desk. A quick search online had him dialing the main phone number of the travel and leisure magazines’ office. If he could talk to her, perhaps even arrange to meet, he might be able to resolve this misunderstanding.
Misunderstanding. Is that what you are going with? Really? Gutless prick.
His conscience was riding his ass hard today.
“Good morning, Luxury Hotels and Resorts Worldwide.” The voice down the line was friendly and actually human. Bryce had gotten so used to dealing with bots and recorded messages, having a real person on the other end of the line had him faltering with his opening words.
“Um, yes. Ah. Good morning. Um.”Come on!“Yes. I am a friend of Vivian Holte and was wondering if I could speak to her, please?”
Gee you made a meal of that.
Apart from a stammering mess, his request had come across as all too formal. Bryce had been hoping to go with him being a friend of Vivian’s to allay any suspicions, but now realized that a friend wouldn’t call at work using the official office number. He would have her private cell.
“I’m sorry but Vivian is away on assignment. Would you like to leave a message?” came the polite reply.
So she was out of town. There went his hopes for a deep, groveling apology over drinks and tapas. “Could you perhaps give me her cell number and I can call her myself, save you the trouble?” he offered.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t give out the personal contact details of our staff contributors. You could leave a message on our contact form, which is on the main website. I can give you the details.”
“Perhaps you could give me her email address?”
“No, I can’t. Please look up our website for further information. Goodbye.”
Click.Bryce stared at the screen of his cell for a moment. He was tempted to call back and tell them that he was Bryce Royal, and people didn’t put the receiver down on him. His saner self had him setting the phone aside.
A knock at the door stirred him from his irrational thoughts of getting in a cab and going down to the offices of LHRW magazine. The universe was finally taking pity on him.
Jordan’s assistant, Sheila, stood in the doorway. Bryce beckoned her in. “Hi Sheila.”
“Hi Bryce, do you have a spare minute?” All the Royal Resorts office staff was on a first name basis with the executive team. Even Edward had reluctantly dropped his insistence on the Mister Royal routine a little while ago. Janice was the last one holding onto it when it came to the company plane.
“Yes, come in, have a seat.” He had a sudden and urgent need to be nice to someone. To confirm to himself that he wasn’t a complete monster.
Sheila, who owned a pale complexion and bright red hair, took the chair opposite to Bryce’s desk. She was a tall mid twenty something woman, who from all reports had grand plans to one day join the management program. Edward had mentioned that the board were paying for some of her college tuition fees, as Sheila’s family didn’t have the money. Bryce liked that about the Royal Resorts team; when they saw talent and potential, they were prepared to back it.
She sat stiff backed in the chair, one hand resting over the other in her lap. Bryce caught a glimpse of Sheila’s lilac painted fingernails as they dug into the back of her bottom hand. “Since Jordan is likely to be in California for an extended period, I was hoping I could come and work for you. I’ve worked on and off for your brother for close to three years, and I’m across a lot of things in the business. And I am a fast learner.” The lilt of a Scottish accent was unmistakable in her voice.
Bryce nodded. He liked that Sheila was taking the initiative, not waiting for someone to find her something to do while her boss was gone. Jordan had enough on his plate without having to manage his staff as he scurried out the door. Sheila’s self-confidence spoke of a future senior manager.
His UK based assistant Heather had elderly parents and they were rightly her priority. She wasn’t in a position to move to the US. Having a ready-made assistant here in New York would help him greatly.
If Sheila has worked for Jordan for three years, she might know what is bugging him. Though her role with him being ‘on and off’ is a bit of a worry. Has he been trying to do things for himself, and coming up short?
“Let me clear things with Human Resources, I wouldn’t want to step on any toes. But yes, having someone who can help get me get up to speed on things in the office would be great. Thank you, Sheila, I appreciate it.” Clasping his hands softly together, Bryce offered her a comforting smile. “Speaking of Jordan, are you and my brother close? I mean, does he talk to you?”
Her posture changed in an instant. Sheila sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. She was a wearing a navy blue and white pinstriped pant suit, the ultimate New York power outfit. The added raised eyebrows said all that was needed to tell Bryce what she thought of his ham-fisted way of asking her to spill his brother’s secrets.
“Let me make this plain, Bryce. I know all your brother’s dirt. Even the stuff he thinks no one else knows about. Jordan has given me the sort of opportunities within this company that few others would have ever done. So when I say I would not only take a bullet for him, but I wouldn’t cry out as I did, you had better believe it.”
Bryce suppressed the urge to clap his hands together in gleeful appreciation. Sheila was just what he needed. Smart. Cunning. And above all else…fearlessly loyal. When the time came for him to challenge the House of Royal senior executive policy about non family members, he had a feeling Sheila’s name would be one of those he tabled.
“Excellent. So we are agreed that I never asked you to spill the beans on my brother?”
“Correct. Now what else can I help you with?”