Page 97 of Release Me

“Is that what you did?”

“I’ve never had to fake a single thing in my life,” she scoffs.

I can’t help the sly smirk that curls my lips. “That’s good to know.” Because she screamed like a woman possessed that day in the old Wolf cabin.

Her warning glare has my apology slipping out. I did promise her we wouldn’t mention our past again. “Don’t you remember what it’s like to start a new job and not know what you’re doing?”

“No.”

“Come on, Belinda …” I give her an imploring look.

She purses her lips. “Ask yourself what Henry Wolf would do in a particular situation, and do that.”

“So … be an arrogant prick?”

“Exactly. It hasn’t failed me yet.”

An unexpected bark of laughter escapes me, and she joins in. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Belinda laugh before. At least, not in a way that isn’t mocking.

Her steady gaze is on my profile as we close the distance to the meeting room. “What?”

“When did you meet the neighbor?”

“Yesterday. Went by to have a talk,” I lie. If Belinda knew Sloane was on hotel property, she’d lose her mind.

That answer seems to satisfy her. “I’m impressed that you managed to negotiate with that menace. Maybe Henry wasn’tcompletelywrong about bringing you here.”

I bite my tongue against the urge to defend Sloane. Hell, I’d be pissed too, if I owned a property like that and this place moved in next door. And now all she’s trying to do is keep her decades-old family business running while we pillage her best workers.

But Belinda isn’t the empathetic type, especially when finding empathy requires going against her boss. “I guess we’ll see soon enough.”

“I havea firm list of candidates for HR.” Dorian’s weathered hands rest on the stack of printouts, but he makes no effort to pass any across the table. The middle-aged grounds staffing supervisor has heavy bags under his eyes. Then again, all the managers tasked with combing through yesterday’s applicants look like they haven’t slept much. But Chester has handed over his seasonal hire lists for the facilities without question, as if happy to be rid of it.

“Do you have a list for me?” I ask calmly.

“I can cc you on the email when I send it to Mike.” A smarmy, counterfeit smile curves his lips. “Listen, Ronan, I’vegone through this process a dozen times. I know what makes a good employee.”

And you have no fucking clue.He doesn’t have to say the quiet part out loud. Everyone in this room can hear it, and they’re exchanging furtive, knowing glances.

I steal a peek at Belinda to read her expression, but her attention is on me, her eyebrows arched in a bemusedNow what are you going to do?way.

“I personally reviewed each applicant forwarded up the chain. Everyone has adequate experience and can start immediately. I’m confident my people have built a solid team.”

No shit he’s confident. And patronizing and bitter. The guy who wants my job has been eyeballing me since I stepped inside this meeting room, and now he’s throwing around words like “my people” and holding on to that list like fucking Gollum with his precious ring.

A soft cough is the only sound in the room.

Dorian’s waiting for the twenty-six-year-old out of his league to bob his head and agree. I might have done that, too, if I didn’t have an ulterior motive, because the truth is, it’s just a bunch of names to me. That would have been a colossal mistake. Belinda’s advice has settled in the forefront of my mind, and I can’t shake it.

What would Henry do if one of his managers pulled his dick out in a meeting to compare sizes? Because that’s what this feels like, and I don’t like it.

Would Henry point out the chunk of muffin caught in this fuckhead’s bushy mustache? No, he has too much class for that.

I clear my throat—mostly to compose myself—and keep my gaze locked on him as I ask, “Belinda, has there been a change in the management structure overnight?”

“There has not, and I believe I would be the first to know.”

“And, as the director, I still make the final decision on all opening hires undermydepartments?”

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