Page 10 of Something Real with the Sea Monster
Mia shakes her head. “I have to head out to the gallery this morning before they open. I’ll see you back home, Teegs?”
“Sure thing.” I give her a bright smile and a wave and try not to let my trepidation show. I’m not really ready to admit the reason why I’m having second thoughts about this job. Because saying it out loud is a hop skip and a jump away from saving his number in my phone under a cute nickname and picking out wedding china. I can’t be doing that. “See you.”
I follow Jack inside the Inlet Views, and he takes me behind reception to the door of the residential part of the property. “Coffee?”
Why does going inside his home feel so intimate when I was up there yesterday? Probably because now it’s just the two of us.
I shake my head. “Nah. I’m good. Let’s talk business.” That’s right, Tegan, keep things professional. This is your boss, and you're absolutely, definitely not going there again.
Once burned, twice shy. Or so they say.
I can’t really remember ever being shy in my life, but there’s a first time for everything I guess.
SIX
Jack
I’m glad Tegan can string two sentences together without getting flustered. After the view I accidentally walked into outside, that’s more than I can manage for the next twenty minutes while I try to take her through the details of the job. I meant to look away. I thought about it at least, but the sight of her bending over in just the tiny pair of red underwear she has on under her jeans was…
It was…
Oh wow.
That’s a major boundary cross, even if it’s only inside my head. I’m about to be her boss for fuck’s sake. But the lines are all blurry. She’s a friend of a friend, and I just saw her panties, and I’m really having trouble thinking straight.
I show her around the Inlet Views, taking her through room three, which is currently empty, then giving her a tour of the grounds and the pool and barbeque area. She’s full of questions, but they’re all about the hotel. I mean, of course, they are.
“Do you offer breakfast? What time is check out? Is there any kind of loyalty discount? What’s your social media like?”
I blink at her. “Uh, you mean like Facebook?”
“Well yeah, and Instagram and TikTok and Pinterest? You have those too, right?”
“I’m managing a hotel, not a celebrity. How much social media do most hotels have?”
Tegan smiles. Whipping her phone out of her pocket, she types something in, then scrolls for a moment. Finally she turns her screen to me. On it is an attractive picture of a small bed-and-breakfast in Mollymook, about one hundred kilometers north of Kraken Cove. The background of the picture is a sunset, lit up with pretty pinks and yellows. The lights are on in the windows of the building, making it seem cozy and inviting. There’s a fancy logo in the corner and a slogan in swishy writing that reads ‘Welcome Back’. She scrolls down, and I see dozens of pretty pictures in a little grid, each one more beautiful than the last.
“This is their Instagram.” She clicks something and another app opens with the same pictures laid out differently. “Pinterest.” She scrolls some more. “They have more than a hundred thousand monthly views,” she says.
My brows lift. “OK, wow. Let me see that.”
Tegan hands over the phone, and I look more closely. The page is slick. The photos look professional, and there are tons of greatcomments. I let out a low whistle. There are pictures of actual celebrities visiting this place.
“You run ads, right?”
“Sure.” I’m still scrolling through their content. We could easily take photos like this with a little effort. There are views here that rival the ones in the images I’m scrolling past; I know it.
“Where?”
I shrug. “Facebook. The travel websites, that sort of thing.”
“It’s so pretty here. You could totally take advantage of that and share stuff that would get attention from the Insta crowd.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Looks like you could teach me a thing or two. Is what you said even in English?”
Tegan grins. “I run all the social media for my current—” Her face falls. “I mean my old job.” She flips her long blonde hair back over one shoulder, and there’s a pause. “Anyway, it’s my specialty, but really, I can help out with whatever. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“No,” I say quickly. “This is great. You might be just what this place needs. And if you can help out on reception and do that side of things, that would leave me space to do the bookkeeping and manage repairs and maintenance. That’s basically how my parents ran the place.” I break off sheepishly when I have a sudden vision of this beautiful woman stepping into Mom’s shoes while I step into Dad’s. That’s altogether too domestic and too fucking enticing. “Anyway, it'll be good to have you on board. If you’re still interested.”
