He’d already tested their loyalty to Scarlet and found it impenetrable. It must look, from their narrow view, as if he had some kind of vendetta against her, or against the resort itself.
The omelet came cold and late, neither of which could quite disguise the quality of it. The vegetables were stunningly fresh and perfectly cooked and the white cheese was a good pair with the fluffy eggs. It was served, despite Breck’s earlier brush-off, with a generous platter of thick, salty bacon, and a stout cup of strong, good quality coffee (also nearly cold).
Mal ate it without complaint and did not bring attention to his empty water glass, despite Breck’s several circuits of the room with the pitcher.
He left his starched napkin on the table when he had finished and went to the railing that overlooked the bar and the glimmering pool below that. It was a tasteful paradise, with shining tile, perfectly groomed foliage, and grand, Greek-style columns.
It was really no wonder Scarlet didn’t want to let go of it.
Mal leaned onto the railing, then shifted as he kicked off, launching from the deck on mottled golden dragon wings. Sunbathers around the sapphire pool looked up in wonder as his dragon form passed over, gleaming in the sun.
Showing off a bit? Mal asked. Mythical creatures were usually invisible to humans and regular shifters, but they could choose to be seen.
She should see and admire us, his dragon said smugly as they circled over the resort. The light here is flattering.
We have work to do, Mal reminded him. Let’s focus.
Chapter 4
Scarlet stalked into the early afternoon senior staff meeting and glared them to silence.
They stared back, clearly dying of curiosity over the events of the night before but not quite willing to ask.
“The resort will be at just over sixty percent capacity this week,” she said coolly. “We’ve got a request in for a whale spotting tour later this afternoon—Travis, can I put you down for that?”
Travis agreed. “Not a problem. The solar panel on cottage seven just needs to be wired in, and that’s the last one.”
Scarlet nodded. It had been an expensive investment and the panels were only installed at a few cottages so far, but if they could start moving away from pricey fuels that had to be imported from the mainland, it would be worth it. If she could just keep her resort long enough to see the payoff... she caught her hands curling into fists as she thought about Mal... N. Padrikanth Moore.
“We have two guests of particular note coming in on the morning charter,” Scarlet said, consulting her notes with a scowl. “One is an elderly domestic cat shifter who has mobility issues. I’ve talked with her companion and will be putting her at cottage twenty-two. Liam, that’s right there next to your elders, because we’ve got the most access infrastructure in that area and it won’t involve stairs to reach the restaurant.”
Liam, who was in charge of a small shifter retirement community within the resort, nodded agreeably. “I’ll reach out and see if she’s interested in some of the activities we’ve got scheduled. She can take meals with our crew, if that’s convenient.”
Scarlet nodded crisply. “Thank you. The other guest requiring special consideration is a fire ant shifter. I want any pest control to be extremely careful this week. I would like to maintain our good record of not having squashed any guests.”
There was a cautious wave of chuckles through the room, and then expectant silence.
Scarlet, knowing what they were really dying to ask, nodded instead at the large, gray-haired man sitting at the side of the room in an apron. “Chef, if you’d like to start off our department reports.”
She remained standing as he confirmed the status of inventory. He added, “I’d like to have Travis look at the grill; I feel like it’s acting a little sluggish, not running quite as hot as usual. Oh! And I’m down fifty pounds of salt. I’ll need to have some picked up from the mainland before the end of the week.”
Scarlet furrowed her brow at him. “Fifty pounds?” Chef was usually excellent at inventory management and this was a significant quantity.
“An unopened bag went missing from storage yesterday. I’ve looked every place it might have accidentally been put, but it’s just gone.”
“Stolen?” Wrench asked swiftly. Scarlet had placed the tattooed panther shifter in charge of security and he was taking his new duties very seriously. There was almost no crime at the resort, and she rarely needed additional enforcement, but she suspected that it would give the guests peace of mind to know that there was someone in charge of such matters. Most of all, it made Wrench feel like he had a purpose; he refused to take his mosaic art seriously, though Scarlet was encouraging him to continue his work.
“Who would steal salt?” Travis asked, laughing. “The whole bag costs less than ten dollars, and there’s not much black market use for it.”
“Someone with a vendetta against snails?” Breck suggested.
Others chuckled, Scarlet made a note to order the salt, and the meeting passed to Breck, who gave an entertaining report about the service schedules, and then to Graham.
“If you’re going to borrow my tools, you’d better put them back,” the lion shifter growled. “I’m missing a shovel from the uphill storage room. Putting in two new beds of herbs, have a surplus of lettuce, the lower paths need raking, I’ll get on that tomorrow before it’s too hot.”
“Salt and now a shovel! It’s an out-of-cont
rol crime spree!” Breck observed drolly. “Wrench, you’d better get on this!”