She also extended her right hand, gripping her briefcase in her left. She didn’t have much inside there, but always felt better carrying something. Like having a shield to defend herself in a possibly tough situation.
“My name is Gray Bishop. I’m the general manager of this soon-to-be opened exclusive and very unusual hotel.” He took her hand with a firm grip.
“Good to meet you.”
He smiled. “And you, as well.” Okay, pleasantries over, let’s get down to business. He returned to his chair, seated himself, and opened the file folder centered on his desk.
“I’ve already read over your application and resume. I see you also have a recommendation from Mr. Barrington of the very posh Barrington hotel chain.”
There was something in his tone that made Jessica falter internally a bit. Either he was not a fan of Mr. Barrington, or the “posh” Barrington Hotel chain, or perhaps there was something else he disliked that he saw in her files.
Surely the most recent scandalous debacle hadn’t made it into anything she’d provided. Although, she hadn’t seen the actual recommendation from Mr. Barrington. Only a copy. A streak of unease blazed a trail down her back.
“Yes,” she said as brightly as she could manage hoping her dismay didn’t show through.
He picked up the folder and leaned back in his chair. “You worked there for almost ten years, is that right?” His question sounded like an accusation, or was she misreading things? She took a silent deep breath, counted to three, and exhaled.
“Yes,” she managed to say without a poor attitude to go along with her single word response. Promptly adding, “That’s right, just under ten years” so as not to come across as confrontational. Even though it was the way she suddenly felt.
His eyes narrowed slightly. The folder dropped to his lap as he asked casually, “Care to share why you were really let go?”
“I beg your pardon?” Not faltering now, but instead plummeting in a dizzying death spiral.
He was pushed back in his chair, with her employment file folder open on his lap. At least she assumed it was hers. He kept his focus on the papers. He didn’t look at her when he asked, “Why would a man like Peter Barrington spend nearly ten years carefully nurturing your career only to let you—his right hand—go unless something truly tragic had happened, keeping you away?” His gaze lifted to hers. Did she read accusation in his eyes?
Her cheeks grew warm at the implication, as the scent of set up wound its way through her system. If Mr. Barrington had said something bad about her in his recommendation she’d…well, she’d…she couldn’t think of a curse word bad enough right now.
Jessica stood up abruptly, feeling caged by whatever was happening in this interview. “I don’t know what Mr. Barrington put in that paper you’re reading, but—”
“Relax, Ms. Hoyt.” He interrupted her impending diatribe. “He didn’t put anything problematic in his recommendation. It’s a solid reference. But I’m not stupid either. Someone at the level you achieved wouldn’t be let go unless there’d been a corporate takeover, or a hushed-up scandal.”
His eyebrows went up in question. She pressed her lips tightly together to keep from cursing.
Mr. Bishop added, “I didn’t hear about any corporate takeover, so I’m left to wonder why you were truly let go from your last position.”
She seated herself again, but her back remained ramrod straight. This opportunity was too good to give up without fighting for it. But she wasn’t about to explain what happened. It wasn’t her fault, and she was tired of being blamed. She didn’t intend to let it carry into her next position.
The sheer desire to have this cream of the crop job calmed her down. “Mr. Bishop. I have a bachelor’s degree with honors—I might add—in my field of study, which is hotel management.
“Additionally, I have nearly ten years’ experience with a very ‘posh’ hotel chain in several areas with all manner of different responsibilities. My work history and records therein are exemplary. Do you have any other questions for me beyond ones seeking gossip about my former employer?”