Page 1 of Scout

One

Scout Turner sighed in annoyance as he closed a file and added it to the rejection pile on his desk. He needed a new personal assistant, and not a single candidate out of twenty-two impressed him. Well, that wasn’t true. Alex Shepherd was ideal on paper, and Scout had looked forward to seeing if he made the same impression when they met in person. But Shepherd hadn’t shown up for his interview, which had been scheduled to start ten minutes ago. Tardiness was something Scout refused to allow in his employees unless there was a damn good reason for it. He hadn’t created a business empire by accommodating other people’s shortcomings. So, Shepherd’s file got tossed on top of the others, which would be shredded in the near future. If the man couldn’t attend the initial job interview on time, how could Scout expect anything more from him?

It was two weeks since he fired Erik Fisher, his PA for the past thirty months, after finding out he was resentful of the men Scout saw socially. He’d screwed around with his boss’s schedule, emails, and phone messages, deleting some and switching the times on others. Scout missed several dates over the past six or eight months and wondered why a few of the guys he’d been into suddenly stopped making contact.

Apparently, Erik wanted much more from his employer than just a paycheck. Scout made it a habit not to date anyone who worked for him or had business dealings with him, not that he was attracted to Erik at all anyway. Yes, he was good-looking, in a metro-sexual kind of way, but Scout hadn’t experienced any interest in the man on a personal level since the day he was hired. When he discovered what Erik had been up to, sabotaging his private life, Scout canned him on the spot and banned him from all his properties. And now, when he should concentrate on the new hotel he was building in Seattle, among other things, Scout was stuck without a PA until he found one who suited him.

As president and CEO of Turner Continental, Scout owned several hotels, including the one he used as his home base—the Paradox Hotel & Residencies in San Francisco. The other hotels and a few restaurants, clubs, and condo complexes were in various cities up and down the West Coast. One of his newest ventures,in which he agreed to be a silent partner, was the Cock & Bull, a pub that recently opened directly across the street from the Paradox. His longtime friend, Rico Demara, was the primary owner and manager. Scout looked forward to watching the man succeed—and not just from a financial standpoint either. The profits Scout expected from the C & B didn’t come close to those of his other properties. But Rico overcame a lot since his teens, and it was about time the guy was involved in something positive for a change.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shepherd.” Delilah Webb’s no-nonsense voice filtered through the slightly open door separating his office from hers. She was Scout’s secretary for the past ten years, watching his company grow from a single renovated hotel to its conglomerate status, and she guarded him like a pit bull. More than once, he’d asked her to change positions and be his PA, but she turned him down each time, saying she was quite comfortable with her current job. The PA’s position also required a lot of travel and after-hours meetings and events, and Delilah preferred to spend that time with her husband, children, and grandchildren. “Your appointment was fifteen minutes ago. You were marked as a no-show, and there are no second chances with Mr. Turner. You should have called.”

“But, please. I really need this job. I didn’t mean to be late—” The rich, baritone voice caught Scout’s attention. Something about it sent a delicious shiverdown his spine. He brought his computer out of sleep mode and clicked on the program connected to the hotel’s security feeds. He quickly found the one for Delilah’s office and studied the man standing in front of her desk. Shepherd gave the phrase tall, dark, and handsome a new and intriguing meaning.

“And yet you are.”

“I know, and I’m really sorry. It was unavoidable. Please. Is there any chance I can reschedule?” Through the camera lens, Scout could see genuine dejection and dismay on the man’s face, along with a chiseled jaw and slightly crooked nose as if it’d been broken once before.

From Shepherd’s job application and résumé, Scout knew he was thirty-four and had a bachelor’s degree in hospitality management and an associate’s degree in business administration from New York University. Following that, he had an impressive career at the Four Seasons Hotel in New York City, climbing the ranks until he became a junior executive. He recently relocated to California for undisclosed family reasons, and Scout was suddenly curious about what they were. While he could be a bitch of a boss to work for, he did have a heart when it came to the faithful employees of Turner Continental. Delilah and the managers of each of his properties kept him up to date on things like deaths, births, marriages, etc., in the families of his employees. He made sure Delilah sent each one an appropriate card and gift from him. His father haddone it for years in his own real estate investment company, and Scout continued the tradition.

Delilah shook her head. “The best I can do is to pass along your request to Mr. Turner, but honestly, I don’t expect him to relent and give you another chance. The man runs a tight ship. He demands the best from his employees, who respect him enough to give it to him.”

Letting out a heavy breath, Shepherd nodded his head in resignation. “I understand that, but I’d appreciate it if he could give me another chance to prove myself. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“I’ll see that he gets the message.”

He glanced around before nodding again. “Thank you.”

Scout watched the man’s shoulders slump as he turned around and strode out the door. Delilah was right. He rarely gave second chances, but a part of him wanted to offer Shepherd one—and he had no clue why.

After shutting down his computer, he picked up the stack of personnel files and made sure he had his phone and keys before heading to the outer office. Delilah looked up at him as he approached, then grinned and shook her head. “I’m still not used to you without the facial hair. You startle me every time I see you.”

“Startles me every time I look in the mirror too.” Two nights ago, he’d lost a bet with a friend and had toshave off the beard and mustache he sported for the past twelve years. While he always kept them short and neat, suddenly having bare skin on his face was disconcerting. His jaw and upper lip seemed ultra-sensitive to heat and cold since he had lost the extra layer of protection, and it was a shock when he touched his face after forgetting the coarse hair was gone. Unfortunately, the bet also required him not to let the stubble grow back for one month, so he was stuck with shaving every freaking day, something he didn’t look forward to. Regardless of how much it sucked, Scout wasn’t one to renege on a bet or a deal he’d shaken on. But in the future, all wagers that required him to lose any hair on his body were out.

Delilah took the files from him and raised her eyebrows when he snatched the top one back. The wise woman hadn’t missed the name on the front of the folder. “You heard he showed up late?”

“Yup.”

“He’d like to reschedule.”

“So he said.” Scout had no idea why he was even contemplating giving the man the second chance he’d begged for, but he wouldn’t make any rash decisions. “I’ll think about it. Hewasthe most qualified of all the applicants, at least on paper.”

She held out her hand. “I’ll put it back on your desk. Let me know if you want me to call him for another interview.”

After passing the file to her, he asked, “Anything else I need to know about before I leave?”

“Not a thing. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good evening.”

“You—”

His automatic response was cut short by the phone ringing on Delilah’s desk. He waited a moment while she answered to ensure nothing that needed his attention had come up before he went home to unwind for the night.

“Yes, Phillipe, he’s still here.” She glanced up at him as she spoke to the maître d' of the hotel’s five-star restaurant, Sapphire’s. “Okay, I’ll let him know.” She hung up the phone. “The mayor, his wife, and two guests just walked in for dinner. Phillipe thought you might want to swing by and say hello.”

“Personally? No. Professionally ...” He rolled his eyes, which caused her to laugh. Scout hated politics more than anything in the world, but concessions had to be made at times to succeed in a business like his. “After I play nice with the mayor and his guests, I’ll call it a night. See you tomorrow.”

It wasn’t as if he had a long way to go to get home at the end of the day. His place was one of two penthouse residences in the building. The first three levels were where all the amenities were located, including Sapphire’s, a separate bar, the Ivy Bistro—which served breakfast and lunch—conference rooms, a gym, ballrooms, etc. All thebusiness offices, including Scout’s, were on the fourth floor. The next twenty-four floors were guest rooms and suites. Above them were another twelve floors, each with four condos. The owners of those units had their own parking garage, storage space, entrance, and elevators. They also had access to all the hotel’s facilities, which were included in their common charges if they wanted to use them. Each 2,000-square-foot condo had started with a base price of $700,000 while the place was being built, and they sold out within two months. The timing allowed buyers to customize their kitchens, bathrooms, and flooring with upgrades, which most had done. One of the original owners recently sold his condo for a very nice profit at $1.3 million.

The penthouse level was the highest point, with only two 4,000-square-foot units, one of which Scout lived in.

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