“Fine, then,” Bryce said, holding his sneer too long, letting it slide from darkly handsome to bratty. “Why don’t you give me a job here?”
I resisted the urge to laugh. We had a waiting list of resumes for positions at The Inn. We paid well, treated our employees fairly, and had great benefits. We were always hiring—being in a tourist town meant higher than average turnover—but I doubted Bryce was qualified for anything at The Inn.
“I didn't know you were looking,” I said. “Why don't you tell me a little bit about your qualifications. Have you ever worked in hospitality?”
“I've stayed in plenty of hotels,” Bryce shot back.
“So, no hospitality experience. Have you ever worked in an office? Answered phones or handled customer service? We have an opening in event coordination and one on the housekeeping staff. Do you have any experience with cleaning?”
The blank look Bryce gave me almost broke my composure. I couldn’t help pressing further. “What did you study in college? If you have a business degree, I might be able to put you to work.”
Bryce gritted his perfectly straight, white teeth before forcing out, “Communications.”
“You did that minor in Italian,” Ophelia added unhelpfully.
I vaguely remembered Bryce spending his junior year in Italy. He'd almost gotten kicked out of college for not attending classes, but I wasn't sure he'd learned any Italian. Unable to resist, I said, “Hai le braccia corte.”
Bryce stared back at me with a look of blind confusion. Guess none of that Italian had stuck. It was probably good he didn’t know I’d just called him cheap. Somehow, I didn’t think Bryce would find it as funny as I did. I gave another helpless shrug.
“I'm sorry, I can't help you, Bryce. It wouldn't be fair to the other applicants to hire someone so unqualified. Unless you'd be willing to wait tables. Or maybe I can give you a few shifts with housekeeping and see how you do.”
“I'm not working housekeeping,” Bryce protested, the look of shock on his face priceless.
“Every single one of us did at least one summer scrubbing toilets and changing sheets. A little hard work never hurt anyone. I bet you’d learn a lot.”
Bryce tossed his gleaming, golden hair. “You've always been an asshole.”
“Bryce!” Ophelia looked at me and shook her head. “I'm so sorry, Royal. I don't know what's gotten into him. It's just that we're a little short right now. Gerald's alimony check hasn't come through and—”
I could never figure out how much of Ophelia was naïve entitlement and how much was calculation. It didn't really matter. I had no intention of subsidizing her lavish lifestyle at my own expense and neither did any of my siblings. I knew Griffen wouldn’t do it, so they were on their own.
On their own in a luxury resort, eating gourmet meals three times a day. Everyone should be on their own like Bryce and Ophelia.
I shook my head gently. “I'm sorry about that, Ophelia. Maybe you should give him a phone call. In the meantime, you have a roof over your head and three meals a day. Once we have the house fixed up you can move over there, but for now, The Inn is one of the most beautiful spots in the Carolinas. Enjoy. I've got to get back to my office. I'm late for a meeting. I'll see you at Sunday dinner, if not before.”
I made my escape, ignoring Bryce's protests as they followed me down the hall.
I got back to the office to find Tenn standing behind his desk, his phone to his ear, his brows drawn together in frustration.
“Yeah, okay. Royal just walked in. One of us will be down there in a few.” He hung up the phone. “Did you deal with Ophelia and Bryce?”
“Just had to set them straight on a few things.”
“What did they want?”
“Only an open tab for alcohol and at the gift shop,” I said mildly as if that were no big deal.
Tenn gave a short laugh. “Oh, is that all? I shudder to think how much they could have charged to the room if we hadn't thought to cut them off from the start.”
“I know. I told Bryce he should get a job.”
This time Tenn burst out with a genuine laugh. “Bet that didn't go over well.”
“You'd win that bet. What was up with the phone call?”
Tenn let out a long sigh. “The produce order was canceled.”
I stared at him. “Canceled? How did the order get canceled?”
“Someone called in and canceled all the orders from The Inn for this week.”
“And the vendor just canceled it? Without calling us? That's insane.”
“It was our bad luck that a new hire was on the orders desk when the cancellation came through. Whoever it was gave the head chef's name and said there'd been some changes. The new hire didn't know enough to check and went ahead and canceled the order.”