Page 57 of Inarticulate

The click of heels were the only sound as they walked down the long hall. Offices were on either side of them, each open door giving view to polished wood tables and floor to ceiling windows.

“This is his office.” The woman stopped in front of a set of double doors and knocked twice before turning the handle. “Patrick, this is Savannah Hamilton from the Rydel Group.”

The woman held the door wide and indicated for Savannah to proceed into the pits of hell.

“Thank you.” She stepped over the threshold and smiled at the man behind the desk. Not unlike Mr. Rydel, Patrick had to be in his late fifties with black hair tinged with gray. He sat leisurely in his high-back leather chair, appraising her with a lazy gaze before pushing to his feet.

“Welcome, Savannah.” He greeted her at the front of his desk with an outstretched hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.” The handshake was brief, a mere graze of palms that spoke volumes about his lack of respect for her position. “What can I do for you?”

The question was fake. It would’ve been more truthful if he’d asked—What can I do to get you out of my office? But she smiled anyway, playing the same game.

“I wanted to inform you of some concerns I have about the upcoming settlement.”

“Concerns?” His brows knit tight. “I was under the impression that the transition was going ahead smoothly.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not the case from my perspective. The communication between parts of your management team and my staff have come across as confronting, and at times almost threatening. I appreciate that it may be a misunderstanding due to the sterility of emails, but I also wanted to ensure Grandiosity wasn’t striving to lower our occupancy rates.”

Patrick leaned back in his chair and sucked in a long, slow breath, his chest expanding wide with the inhalation. “That’s quite an assumption.”

Her cell vibrated in her back pocket, short and sharp. A message from Keenan, no doubt. A warning not to do what she was doing. A sign to pull back on the reins.

“Yes, it is.” She dropped the smile and raised her chin. “I’m sorry to be blunt, but these employees don’t deserve to be fearful of their future. They have families and responsibilities. They’re hardworking—”

“Obviously, they don’t work hard enough to maintain a profitable business.”

Shock made her stiffen and she rallied to contain her anger. Then her cell vibrated again, splitting her thoughts into two different disastrous categories. She should’ve expected the taunt, it was natural, but instead her mind was only half on the game, with the other half tangled in all things Keenan.

“I think we can both agree that a lot of aspects are at play when a hotel fails to remain profitable.” She refused to throw her staff under the bus. Neither would she announce that the responsibility lay at her feet, or anyone else higher up the food chain. “Alienating future employees won’t help to increase productivity.”

“No, but it would certainly weed out those who aren’t determined and willing to fight. We want strong staff, Savannah. We go through a rigorous employment process for every member of our team, from maintenance to management. Your people get to bypass those hoops. They should be thankful for that and eager to do whatever necessary.”

She ignored another buzz from her cell, and tried to silence everything—her thoughts, her feelings, her anxiety—to concentrate on the man’s expression. She had to give him credit. He’d done well not to admit the obvious intentions of Grandiosity while also backhanding her with an insult.

“I see.” She should’ve come prepared. This was stupidity on her behalf. Ridiculousness. She’d lost focus due to her surging libido, and now she was paying the price of pleasure. “I guess we’re done here.” She inched forward in her seat, preparing to stand. “I’ll make sure to send you a copy of the information I intend to forward to our legal team. I’m certain they’ll be interested to hear what’s been going on, especially when the communication from your company has resulted in resignations that are costing us money. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s cause to claim compensation.”

Seconds ticked by, maybe minutes, with no response from Patrick. Then slowly, almost unperceptively, a sly grin spread across his lips.

“You’ve got balls, Savannah—”

“Actually, I don’t.” She squared her shoulders, preparing for round two. “I just have a lack of tolerance for bullshit.”

He chuckled, long and low. “Well, whatever it is, I find it admirable.”

She relaxed, marginally, and sank back into the chair. “I appreciate the admiration and hope your honesty comes with it.”

His smile didn’t falter, nor did the position of his eyes. He remained still, composed. The only sign of his discomfort came from the lack of genuine friendliness staring back at her.

“I’ll admit I’ve had very little to do with the upcoming changeover. I’ve been occupied with the development of another property in Chicago and entrusted the new Seattle property in what I thought were capable hands. But I’ll speak to my team and clear things up. I want to ensure any future communication is welcoming.”

“Thank you.” Savannah released a silent sigh of relief. “Can I ask one more thing? Is it possible for your interview team to be more flexible with their schedule? I know most of the staff will be able to make their appointments, but I do have a few people who will have problems attending. Specifically, a woman who has an interview booked during the only time she can see her dying mother in hospital.”

“Of course. That should go without saying.”

“Actually, the email we received implied the opposite.” She waited for him to ask for clarification.

He didn’t.

“I assure you, anyone unable to attend will be accommodated.” He leaned forward, as if to stand and mark the end of their conversation. “Was that all?”

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