Page 1 of Inarticulate

Chapter One

“My sweet Ms. Hamilton, we’ve got a problem.” The deeply growled tone came from the office across the hall.

Savannah slumped over, resting her head on the elegantly polished wood of her desk and fought the need to bang her forehead. “What is it, Spencer? I’m kinda busy.”

As far as understatements went, hers was gargantuan. The To-Do List currently stapled to the back of her mind was growing with every disgruntled staff email that slid gracefully into her mailbox. She had property managers to call, PR issues to resolve, and profit reports to analyze that, at first glimpse, showed a lot of red, instead of soothing black.

“It’s important. Get your butt in here.Now.”

A hissed chastisement came from Spencer’s office and she cringed, knowing his father was also in there. Mr. Rydel,theMr. Mathew Rydel from the Rydel hotel empire, was her boss. So was his charming son, Spencer. The former was a demanding man. He cracked the whip like an ancient Roman on a power trip, without apology or remorse. It was a challenge to work under his leadership, and she thrived in the role.

Spencer, however, had a different work ethic, one that revolved around flirtation and perfectly worded compliments. He’d seduced her into an eight-month relationship that ended six weeks ago, when he forgot to remain monogamous.

But she hadn’t been hurt. Crazy, huh? Eight months of companionship had come to an end and all she could think about was stocking up on AA batteries. Because that’s all their time together had been. One scripted sex scene after another. It was merely colleagues with benefits.

Convenient copulation.

Only Spencer disagreed. Apparently, their future held the unmistakable sound of wedding bells and a honeymoon somewhere warm and exotic. Her reluctance to agree was merely stubborn pride because he’d slummed it with the manager of the Rydel Chicago property in a moment of weakness.

She actually felt sorry for his unrealistic perception. She could never love a man like Spencer. He was too pretty. Too perfect. He’d never worked a day in his life, he merely skated along the pristine path his father laid for him. He had no drive, no commitment.

In the last six weeks, his self-righteous attitude and love for himself had scrubbed away any aesthetic appeal, leaving her to see the egotistical man he hid beneath.

He was, however, a perfect asset in the bedroom. A woman couldn’t live on the company of battery operated products alone, and for a brief eight months he’d given her the opportunity to unsubscribe to her favorite sex toy website.

“My life is but to serve,” she muttered and pushed to her feet, shimmying her ass to lower the thigh-high skirt now hiked up her stocking-covered legs. As she shuffled around her desk, she swiped at her mug and stole the last dregs of coffee, placing it back down with a relieved gasp that spoke too much of her reliance on the heavenly liquid.

With a pasted on smile, she held her head high and strode across the hall. When she entered Spencer’s office, her footsteps faltered at the matching scowls etched across the faces of the father and son duo. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s problems in Seattle.” Mr. Rydel’s hazel eyes were a darkened shade of we’re-in-huge-fucking-trouble.

“Problems?” She frowned. “The paperwork for the sale has already been finalized. There’s less than three months until settlement. There shouldn’t be any problems.” Well, nothing worthy of the high level of concern focused her way.

Over time, the Seattle property had slowly become their profit decimator. The cause of their sinking bottom line. This year the decision had been made to cut and run, sacrificing their worst performer to benefit the rest of the portfolio. It was an emotional and stressful conclusion none of them liked to acknowledge. And as soon as the sale was complete and staff began working for their new employer, Savannah planned on kicking off her heels and dancing around her living room while simultaneously guzzling a bottle of merlot.

“Less than three months that will bring us to our knees if our employees continue to quit,” Spencer muttered. “They’re leaving in droves.”

“Why?” It didn’t make sense. “Our terms with Grandiosity were specific. They promised to take on incumbent staff. You told me that was non-negotiable.”

Spencer leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his immaculately tailored suit. “That’s what we agreed on with Patrick, but it looks like his team is playing dirty to get a better deal. If any more staff leave, we won’t be able to reach the minimum hotel occupancy we committed to in negotiations. Which means the fucking settlement figure will fall.”

“Son,” Mr. Rydel grated.

“What? You know it’s true. They also made it clear our staff are sub-par. Getting them out of the way means they can slide their own into place instead of wading through three-month probation periods and possible payouts for those who need to be fired.”

“Just show her the email.”

Spencer’s lips pressed tight as he slid a sheet of paper toward her. “We’ve been receiving information of unrest since we announced the upcoming sale, but this came from the shift manager this morning.”

Savannah picked up the email and skimmed over the text.

Dear Mr. Rydel. Yadda yadda yadda.Staff are seeking alternate employment in fear of the inevitable loss of work in the future.Yadda yadda yadda.They’re intimidated by the presence of future management.Yadda yadda yadda.Please advise how you would like me to proceed.

She slammed the paper back down on the desk. “This is a breach of contract. Their management can’t terrorize staff. They shouldn’t even be in the building.”

“No, they shouldn’t,” Mr. Rydel agreed. “But from the amount of concerned phone calls we’re receiving, someone certainly is.”

“Who?” She slid into one of Spencer’s hard leather seats beside his father. “Do we have a name?”

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