Maggie pulled on her new black dress pants, then stood in front of her closet, trying to decide which of four blouses to wear. The clothing allotment she’d been given had been a blessing, and the things she got would keep her going as she added a new piece or two with every paycheck. She wished she had access to her things from her old apartment, but until the police were through with it, she planned to stay far away.
She settled on a forest green blouse, then added a hint of green eyeshadow to the taupe she’d already used. She’d blended everything together to look subtle and professional, and as she looked in the mirror, she was happy with what she saw. This was a Maggie who was ready for the next phase. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure what that phase was.
Her phone chimed with a text, and she picked it up from the counter.
Good luck today.
Well, that was sweet, but there was no signature.
Who is this?
Oh, sorry. This is Rob. I stole your number from Andrew.
She smiled. You stole it? You could have just asked me.
Where’s the fun in that?
So … stealing is fun?
Most of the time, yes. When it involves jail time, no.
She laughed out loud. Agreed.
So, anyway, you’ve got those interviews today. Just wanted to wish you luck.
Now that I know who this is, thank you.
He didn’t reply, and that was just as well because she needed to get going. She stepped into some black flats, grabbed her bag, and headed out. Her apartment was working out really well for her—it was closer to the hotel, and the furniture was super comfortable. Looking down at her outfit while she descended in the elevator, she shook her head, wondering for the millionth time if this was really her life.
Florence was waiting for her in the lobby when she arrived. “The dining room still isn’t quite finished, so we’ll do interviews in the parlor, if that’s all right with you.”
“Of course,” Maggie replied. Did she really have a say in it? That was kind of a wild thought.
The first lady had actually applied for the head of housekeeping position, but when she found out that post had gone to someone else, she’d asked to be considered for the regular staff. She seemed a little surprised when she was introduced to Maggie.
“You’re . . . so young,” she said as she took her seat across from Maggie and Florence. “Not that it’s a bad thing—youth is great. I’m just . . . never mind.”
“You’re worried that I won’t be a good manager because I’m younger than you are?” Maggie glanced at the sheet of paper in front of her. “Alice, I can’t say that I have all the experience in the world, but I do have plenty, and we’re pulling together a great team.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Alice was quick to say.
She still seemed doubtful, and Maggie had plenty of doubts too—but not about herself. Alice seemed skeptical about everything, but maybe she was just nervous. After she left, Maggie turned to Florence. “I’m willing to give her a trial, but I don’t think she’ll last.”
“That’s very fair of you, and I agree.”
The other three applicants—Cady, Wren, and Laura—were much easier to get along with, and Maggie had no problem approving them all on the spot. They were all about her same age, but none of them commented on it or even seemed to notice it.
“So, let’s have all four come back tomorrow and we’ll finish the upstairs bedrooms, and if they’ve got the downstairs rooms done by then, we can do those as well,” Maggie said, going over the checklist they’d made of everything that needed to be done before opening. “And just when is that dining room going to be done?”
“The construction crew keeps running into snags in there,” Florence replied.
“Well, they’d better stop running into snags or we’re not going to open on time.”
“You might ask them to see what they can do about that,” Florence suggested. “They might have a better answer for you than they would for me.”
“Why would they have a better answer for me?” Maggie asked before she realized what she was saying. “Oh, because Rob . . .”
“Yes, because our construction foreman seems to have developed a soft spot for you.” Florence smiled. “I’m not saying that he’s withholding information from me—I’m just saying that he might pull a few more strings or whatnot if you explained how much you’d like to be able to finish up your work.”
“Are you suggesting that I use some influence in the situation?” Maggie asked, teasing the older woman.
“I’m suggesting that you certainly have more influence than I do,” Florence rejoined.
Maggie stood up, laughing. “Well, we are having lunch together today. I’ll see what I can find out.”
The front door of the hotel flew open and Tabs came running in, sliding to a halt in the doorway of the parlor. “Guess what? No, seriously. Guess what?”
Maggie shook her head. “I have no idea.”
Florence grinned. “Where’s the ring?”
Tabs pointed at Florence. “We’re going shopping for it tomorrow. Can you believe it?”
Florence wrapped Tabs up in a hug. “I’m so happy for you, my dear.”
Tabs rocked Florence back and forth before she let her go. “I can’t believe it, actually. At first, when he asked, I thought it was too fast and that we shouldn’t be rushing into it. But then I realized that we’ve known this was coming for a long time, and what was the purpose in waiting? We’re not going to have the actual ceremony for a little while yet, so it’s not like we’re running down to the courthouse right this second.” She paused. “You don’t think it’s too soon, do you, Florence?”
Florence shook her head. “I think it’s just right.”
“Me too!” Tabs bounced up and down a little bit. “Okay. I’ve gotta calm down. I need to check the color on the varnish in the dining room—it’s work time.”
“Um, the dining room?” Maggie asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Rob thinks they might have applied the wrong color. He texted me this morning.”
Just great. If it was the wrong color, they’d have to redo it, and that meant housekeeping couldn’t get in there for a while. That was frustrating. “Congratulations,” Maggie said instead of showing her irritation with the situation. Much better to stay focused on the positive.
“Thank you! Okay, work time. I’ll see you later.” Tabs disappeared down the hall, and Maggie turned to Florence.
“Have you looked in the dining room at all? Any idea what color the floor is?”
Florence shook her head. “I’ve just been trying to stay out of everyone’s way.”
“Let’s keep all our fingers crossed. And I’ll see what I can get out of Rob over lunch.”
***
Rob’s phone chimed as he walked up to the back door of the hotel. It was a text from Griffin.
Thanks for the advice. She said yes. Date TBD.
Rob grinned. Good job, dog.
When he entered the kitchen, he took note that they were only missing the countertops and the trim before the place would be ready. Then he went into the dining room and saw Tabs standing in the middle of the floor, her hands on her hips.
“Hey, Tabs. I just heard the good news.”
She turned to him, her eyes wide. “You heard that this floor is orange? Because that’s not good news, Rob. That’s not good at all.”
“I meant about the engagement, but yeah, the floor.” He’d hoped it was just his imagination or maybe the way the light was playing through the windows, but the floor had taken on a definite coral tint, and that wasn’t at all what Marissa had come up with for the concept of the room.
“Thank you. About the engagement. But Marissa’s going to lose her mind.” Tabs pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. “I just don’t know what we’re going to do. How long does it take to order in new varnish? We’re supposed to be opening soon! How did this happen?”
“It looked like a different color in the can and while we were applying it, and it wasn’t until it dried that we could see the real color,” Rob explained. He felt terrible. They were on a deadline, and he knew how much it meant to Andrew that everything be perfect. He was a little more worried about Marissa’s reaction than Andrew’s, though. She’d put her heart and soul into designing the look of this hotel, and she could be a little scary when she wanted to be.
Just a few seconds later, Marissa came into the room and stopped, staring down, looking as though she’d stepped in hot lava. “What is this?” she said slowly, her eyes coming up to meet Rob’s.
He lifted his hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was so orange until it dried.”
She pulled in a deep breath and let it out. “I checked the labels on the cans against the invoice, so that wasn’t it. They must have mislabeled the cans.” She closed her eyes and then opened them again. “Let me ask you a question. If you didn’t know this was the wrong color, would you look at the floor and say, wow, what a mistake?”
Rob turned in a circle, examining the wood from every angle. The tone was a rich mahogany color with a coral cast to it. It wasn’t bright orange, by any means. “If I didn’t know this was the wrong color, I don’t think I’d even notice.”
Marissa nodded. “We have two choices here. We can call the company and ask them to make this right—which I plan to do—and wait for new supplies. That’s the part I’m questioning. Or we can run with this and pretend it’s what we intended all along. I can grab some different wall hangings to pull in the orange tones, and when all the tables and chairs are set up in here, the floor won’t be as visible anyway. What do you say?”
Tabs pressed her lips together, but then nodded too. “We don’t have time to redo this floor and meet our deadline, and Andrew has put a lot of money into advertising the grand opening.”
Marissa looked at Rob. “What do you think?”
“I think you need to give that company a call and read them their rights, but get a refund instead of a replacement, and we’ll make this work.”
“All right. I’ll talk to Andrew, and we’ll go from there.” Marissa turned on her heel and headed toward the office, and Tabs shook her head.
“Orange. Marissa hates orange. This is going to kill her.”
“She’s doing what needs to be done for the good of the project—that takes a lot of integrity.”
“True.” Tabs exhaled. “Sounds like I need to be finding some autumn-colored accents for this room. Rust might be a good color to tie the mahogany and orange together.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Rob said, knowing Tabs wasn’t even thinking about him anymore. Once she started thinking about colors, everything else faded into the background.
He made his way to the parlor and found Maggie there waiting for him. She looked great in a green top and black pants, and he looked down at his grimy shirt.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a smile. “Those are the marks of hard work. Those are man marks, not slob marks.”
“Man marks?”
“Yeah. They’re a thing. I just made them up, but they’re a thing.”
They went outside and climbed into his truck, then rumbled down the road. “So, I’m hearing rumors about a hold-up in the dining room,” Maggie said. “I wondered when we’d be able to get in there and clean it.”
Rob exhaled. “Well, maybe today, if Andrew signs off on it. The floor varnish came in the wrong color, and Marissa and Tabs are going to change the design rather than making us redo it. It’s the best choice from a time-saving perspective.”
“Oh, that’s rotten,” Maggie replied. “It’s good that they’re willing to be flexible, though.”
“Yeah. If they weren’t, I don’t know what we’d do.” He glanced over at her. “How did the interviews go?”
“Really well. I was pretty nervous at first—I mean, I’m not used to being in a position of authority, and Florence kept looking at me for answers to questions and whatnot like I really knew what I was doing. But I liked the applicants—except for one—and I think we’ll get along well together. We’re going to hit it hard tomorrow, and we were hoping to put the dining room on our list.”
“We’ll see what Andrew says, but yeah, odds are good that you can start it as soon as you want.” He glanced at her again. “So, you sent that one applicant packing?”
“No, actually. Her resume looked good, and I thought I’d give her a shot. It’s just that she had applied to be the head of housekeeping, and I think she’s got some wounded pride issues going on. If she can work past those, great. If not, well, it’s not like we need her for our ultimate success. We only need a few on staff right now anyway.”
“And then you’ll hire a ton more when the new wing is open?”
“Exactly.” She adjusted her seatbelt where it lay across her neck. “And maybe by then, I’ll feel a little more confident about interviewing.”
“So, it went well, and you think you did well, but you weren’t confident, but it went well? Is this what I’m hearing?”
She laughed. “Yeah, I know I’m not making sense. It did go well. I just think I could have done better.”
“And that kind of thing only comes with practice. You’ve got this, Maggie. And you’re going to be a great manager.”
“Thanks. We’ll see how that all plays out when we’re actually working tomorrow.”
Rob drove to an Italian eatery on the outskirts of town, one he’d driven past but had never tried. “How does this look to you?”
“Great. I’m starving.”
He came around to open her door. She seemed a little off balance as she slid off the seat, and her shoe caught on the doorframe. Rob reached out and caught her just as she tumbled down, but he didn’t let her go right away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her a little tighter, waiting until she seemed to have recovered from the surprise of the fall.
“That’s not the most graceful I’ve ever been,” she said with a shaky laugh. “Thanks for the help.”
“No problem. If I’m going to drive a ridiculously tall truck, saving your life from time to time should be part of the service.”
He could let go now, but he found that he didn’t want to. He liked the way she felt in his arms, and neither of them moved for a long moment. Electricity ran up and down his spine, and he wondered if she felt it too. If she didn’t, she was probably wondering what was going on and why he wasn’t stepping back yet.
But if she did, and if she wasn’t pulling away either . . .
There was one way to find out. Well, technically he could just ask her, but that seemed a little awkward, and he was already steeped in awkwardness. Instead, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers just to see how she would react. She could punch him—he didn’t think she’d hesitate. Instead, she leaned in just the smallest bit, the answer he was looking for, and he kissed her again, for real this time.
The parking lot of a restaurant is never a very private place, and after a moment, Rob became aware that they weren’t alone. He ended the kiss and stepped back, but entangled his fingers with hers as they turned toward the building. He was sure of it now—there was something about this girl, something he needed to discover and hang on to. He wanted to say something, to share his feelings or solidify what had just happened, but for some reason, words wouldn’t come. Instead, he gave her fingers a squeeze as they entered the restaurant, and she returned that squeeze with one of her own.
It wasn’t exactly a proclamation of everlasting love and devotion, but it would do for now.
They were seated at a table near the window, and Rob studied the menu, not really seeing it. They’d just turned a corner, a very important corner, and he wasn’t sure what to do next. Kissing Maggie had been like a revelation, a neon sign blinking over her head saying “Hang on to this one,” but it had only been a few days since they met. How did he know he wasn’t just imagining things? He’d barely associated with anyone of the opposite gender since Dinah left. What if he was just leaping into this because he was bored or lonely?
They couldn’t just sit there in silence forever, and he knew he should say something, but he still couldn’t find the right words. She’d fizzled some of his brain cells or something—that was the best explanation.
Just then, her phone rang. Her eyebrows furrowed when she looked at the display, then she answered. “Hello? Yes, this is Maggie Childers.”
Rob decided what he wanted to eat, then put his menu to the side. He wished it was that easy to choose what he wanted in life and go for it. Choosing his career had been a no-brainer. He’d known what he wanted to do since he was a little boy. But this whole relationship thing . . . that was harder. It wasn’t just a matter of making a choice—there was another person involved, and she had to want the same things he did. He couldn’t choose for her or make all the rules himself—it was a joint decision. There were compromises. And he needed to find the right person to compromise with. And he was getting a headache just thinking about it.
Maggie hit the “end” button on her phone, but she didn’t put it away. Instead, she stared at it, looking a million miles away.
“What’s the matter?” Rob asked.
Maggie blinked and glanced up. “Sorry. Um, I need to go back to my old apartment and clean out my stuff. Do you mind if we eat quickly? I’m sort of in a time crunch.”
“Sure.” Rob glanced around, but didn’t see the waitress. “What if we left and grabbed something on the way? This place doesn’t seem to do anything quickly.”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Why would I mind? It was my idea.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Rob. I appreciate it.”
They stood up, Rob dropped a ten-dollar bill on the table, and they left. Whatever was bothering Maggie, they needed to get it resolved, and he was glad to be able to help.