Cathy Gillen - Taking Over The Tycoon

“Everything okay?” Connor Templeton walked up to them and nodded at Harry Bowles. “Nothing has happened to Winnifred, has it?”

“Winnifred…?” Kristy said. Obviously, the two men knew each other quite well.

“Deveraux-Smith.” Connor supplied the rest of the name, before nodding again at Harry Bowles. “Harry here has been her butler for years.”

“Twenty to be exact,” the man replied as he straightened the lapels on his exquisitely cut dark business suit. “And, no, nothing is wrong. I am simply here to apply for the job. I resigned my other position this afternoon and find myself in need of work and a place to stay. And while I could check into a hotel or rent an apartment, I prefer to simply take another position right away.”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew an envelope. “My résumé is inside.” He waited expectantly while Kristy opened it. “As you can see, my talents are extensive and varied. I believe I would make an excellent addition to your staff.”

No kidding, Kristy thought, running down the list of Harry’s talents. “I’m not sure the salary I am offering is going to be enough for someone of your background,” she said.

“Why don’t you let me decide that?” he suggested.

“If you’ll excuse us.” Kristy looked at Connor, then took Harry by the elbow and guided him toward the front desk. “Why don’t we step into my office?” she said. “We can talk privately there.”

CONNOR HAD NO IDEA what Kristy and Harry said to each other behind closed doors. But it was clear when they emerged that Kristy had hired herself a concierge and assistant hotel manager. She gave him a key. “Cottage 1 is right next to the lodge. You can get settled in this evening and I’ll show you around tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Harry said. He tipped an imaginary hat to Kristy, nodded at Connor and left by the same doors he had come in.

“Your mother is serving ice cream in the dining room. She’d like to know if you want to join the rest of the family,” Connor said.

“Sure,” Kristy answered as the telephone rang. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”

As Connor headed off, he heard Kristy scrambling for a pen and paper and talking in the background.

“Friday, October 15? Yes, we do have availability for that. Twenty-five rooms. Hmm, let me see here. Yes. I think we can do it. Absolutely. No problem. I’ll fax you the cost breakdown first thing tomorrow morning. Thank you!”

“Got a booking?” Connor said, when she slipped into her seat at the table.

Kristy grinned. “A group of twenty-five insurance agents from the Oak Park area of Chicago. They used to come here for their annual sales conference, and bring their spouses. For the past two years they went to another resort, but there was a mix-up in reservations and the place that was supposed to house them, on Kiawah Island, suddenly can’t. So they’re coming here instead.”

“That’s great,” Connor said, looking surprisingly happy for her, considering that he was still trying to buy her out. Kristy noted that Maude and Doug, on the other hand, appeared ambivalent about her first success. As if they were glad she was getting some business, but not so happy that bookings would delay her going back to North Carolina to pursue what they felt was her true calling.

“The peach ice cream was yummy, Mommy,” Susie said, as she and Sally yawned and pushed their empty ice cream dishes away.

Kristy smiled. “Thank Grandma—she made it for you.”

The twins chorused, “Thank you.” And yawned again.

“They look exhausted,” Maude noted. She glanced at Kristy. “Would you like me to supervise their baths and get them ready for bed?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” she said, noting that it was already seven-thirty, and the twins’ school night bedtime was in another half hour.

“I have to call and check on a few patients back in Raleigh, but then I’ll come help you with the dishes,” Doug said, excusing himself, too.

“You don’t have to do that,” Connor said, already getting up. “I’ll assist Kristy.”

“Have you ever done dishes?” she asked, as she picked up several ice cream bowls and carried them across the lodge dining room to the big kitchen.

Connor grinned. “I know how to put things in a dishwasher.”

That surprised Kristy. She wouldn’t have expected a man like Connor to do even that. But she supposed life was different now that he had his own place, as opposed to the mansion where he, Iris and Daisy had grown up.

Connor stopped in front of the big commercial dishwasher in the kitchen and looked at it uncertainly. “Although I’ve got to say,” he drawled, “the dishwasher in my loft does not look like this.”

“THANKS FOR THE HELP,” Kristy said, when they had finished cleaning up. She started the big machine and the two of them walked out of the kitchen, through the dining room, to the lobby.

“I really like what you’ve done here,” Connor murmured appreciatively. The last time he had been here, shortly before Kristy’s aunt had died, the once-popular lodge had been in decline. All he had seen of the interior were the common areas, but even those had been in a state of disrepair and neglect.

Today, Connor noted, things were different. Although the floor plan of the solidly built establishment remained just as he recalled, the ambience had undergone a stunning transformation. Once outdated and stodgy, the common areas were now fine examples of sunny, oceanfront chic.

One side of the lobby opened onto the main dining room. On the other side was a large club room, featuring a high cathedral ceiling with exposed beams and a large fieldstone fireplace that took up half of one wall. There were several intimate seating areas, with overstuffed sofas and club chairs. White plantation shutters on the windows were opened during the day, revealing a stunning ocean view. The lobby walls were a soothing pale green, the club room and ceiling white. Sisal rugs dotted the warm distressed-wood floors, and brightly colored Persian runners and unique artwork added color and interest to the lobby.

“Thanks,” Kristy murmured proudly.

“You’ve turned it into a very peaceful place,” he continued admiringly.

She nodded. Appearing distracted, she shot a glance at her brother, who was standing behind the reservation counter, talking with the hospital by phone, and making notations on a paper in front of him. “I’ll walk you out,” she said.

Doing his best to hide his disappointment—Connor had hoped to spend more time with Kristy that evening—he moved ahead to open the heavy wooden lobby door.

They stepped out onto the wide piazza that faced the beach. When Ida had been alive, and running Paradise, the porch had been filled with nylon folding chairs. Now wooden rocking chairs, and potted plants and flowers scattered here and there, created a homey look.

“I’m really happy about what I’ve managed to accomplish here, although I have a lot more to do before any guests arrive. And I appreciate your congratulating me on the booking…” she paused to search his eyes “…although I can’t imagine that you really feel that way.”

Connor knew he shouldn’t have been happy for her. Any success she had on that score went counter to his business plans. But he was. Maybe because he knew how hard she had been working. And had seen how much revitalizing the old resort meant to her.

Nevertheless, he didn’t like what her assumption implied. He slid a steadying hand beneath her elbow as they walked down the steps to the sidewalk. Loving the way her bare skin felt beneath his palm, so silky and warm, he guided her around the side of the building, toward the parking lot. “You think I’m insincere?”