Eden

A few hours later, I was happy when I found the employee break room empty. I could’ve gone to the office that I shared with Gerald but I needed a little time alone.

Time to decompress from my last go-round with Michael.

It sucked beyond belief that all these hours later, I was still shaken, still excited, but that was just the way it was with him, and I knew better than to try to pretend otherwise.

I sat at the table and sipped a glass of water as I flipped through a magazine, consciously forcing my mind not to think of Michael, the way his eyes lit, the always stormy expression on his face, how much I wanted to kiss his lips.

Nope, I didn’t allow myself to think any of that, didn’t allow myself to think of anything but how frustrating and irritating the man was.

I’m sure he thought the same of me, and while that hadn’t been my intention, I wasn’t sorry about it.

After the Murphys bought the hotel, Michael had come in with no consideration for what we’d built over the years. If he’d shown just an ounce of humility, some interest in understanding what it was we did, how the staff had kept the hotel running for years, I would have been more receptive, to make no mention of how appreciative I would have been if he’d tried to keep the peace with Gerald.

However, Michael Murphy didn’t do peace and understanding, and he certainly didn’t do humility. I’d felt compelled to step into the breach and provide a buffer between Michael and the rest of the staff, a role Patrick Murphy had more or less made official.

A role that I loved, though I would never admit it.

Michael was exasperating, but he was also exhilarating, put some much-needed excitement in my orderly, but rather boring life.

“Eden?”

At the sound of Gerald’s voice, I pushed aside thoughts of Michael and let a smile cross my face as Gerald approached.

I set down the magazine and then stood. Gerald stopped in front of me, always at a respectful distance, and put his hands behind his suit-clad back.

“Hello, Eden. I was wondering where you went,” he said.

“I just came to hide out,” I said, looking up at Gerald, smiling.

“I’m not surprised that was necessary,” Gerald said. “You’ve spoken with Mr. Murphy today, I take it?”

As always, Gerald kept that same mild expression on his face, one that could mean anything. But I knew him, and I knew exactly what it meant.

Of all of us, Gerald had had the most trouble adjusting to Michael’s presence. He pretended not to mind the change in ownership, did a pretty good job of it too, but I had known Gerald since I was nineteen years old.

I could see past his bland smiles, his extreme politeness. Saw how deeply Michael’s presence at the hotel hurt him.

Which was completely understandable.

I’d been at the hotel for more than a decade, but Gerald had been here much, much longer. He’d never owned it, but it had been his life’s work, and the former owner, an elderly woman who had inherited it from her husband, had left it to Gerald to run as he saw fit.

So her sale to the Murphys, and the corresponding renovations had been a shock to us all, none more than Gerald.

We’d always worked hard to maintain the hotel, but it had been a budget-friendly place that catered to working families and travelers looking for an inexpensive stay in the city. Gerald had always treated it and our guests with the utmost integrity, but the adjustment from budget hotel to high-end, exclusive, cutting-edge hotspot had been a challenge for him.

I tried my best to paper over it, make sure that he and Michael and the rest of the Murphys didn’t have occasion to cross paths. Still, I felt for him. He’d poured his heart and soul into this place, and as much as I might try to pretend otherwise, as much as he might try to, it had never been his and never would be.

“It’s fine,” I said, smiling at him as brightly as I could, never sharing with Gerald the full nature of my conversations with Michael.

Gerald didn’t look convinced, and I thought he looked concerned. But that was one area that always left me off balance.

I’d known him for a very long time, and he’d taught me so much about the hotel industry, but our relationship had never gone deeper, certainly not deep enough for me to say with surety he was concerned. It was funny, because I thought I was close to Gerald, thought he felt the same way, but there was still always this lingering formality between us.

Probably his attempt to enforce the chain of command. Gerald was big on that, liked to have his rules and systems in place, and that was fine by me.

He’d always been a good general manager, fair and direct, so what could be viewed as his eccentricities never bothered me at all.

Plus, compared to Michael, he was a damn teddy bear.

“Did Mr. Murphy find fault with something?” Gerald asked, probing, not at all subtle.

Despite myself, I laughed, and the usually reserved Gerald cracked a smile. The question was funny, because Mr. Murphy always found fault with something, or someone, usually me.

“He had some questions about personnel,” I said, being vague.

“And you weren’t amenable to those questions?” Gerald said.

I paused, considering Gerald’s question and my response. I decided to continue to be vague, not necessarily wanting to feed rumors, not that Gerald would engage in that sort of thing.

“Let’s just say we couldn’t reach a mutually satisfactory conclusion,” I said.

Gerald smiled. “I taught you well.”

I laughed but then went silent as Gerald studied me.

“What?” I said.

“The staff—I—appreciate what you do, Eden,” he said, and then he cleared his throat.

I smiled again, feeling comforted at Gerald’s rare expression of gratitude.

“It’s no problem. I’ve had a couple people look after me over the years, so I’m happy to repay the favor,” I said.

“Well,” he said, “be assured your actions are appreciated.”

Gerald shifted uncomfortably and began adjusting the cuffs of his stark-white shirt. His skin, however, had flushed deeply, and it was clear that even that small display of emotion made him uncomfortable.

It was endearing, amusing, but I wouldn’t dare laugh. Because what I said was true. People—Gerald—had given me a shot, and I had made it my mission to do the same for others.

Despite Michael Murphy’s efforts.

“Be careful,” Gerald said.

The sound of his voice made me realize I had drifted off, again caught up in thoughts of Michael. I looked up at Gerald, frowned when I saw his intent look.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, concerned at his expression.

He gave the ghost of a smile, but then shook his head. “With Mr. Murphy.” He cleared his throat. “I mean with Mr. Murphy,” he said.

“Be careful?” I asked.

“You’re a lovely girl, Eden. True and kind. Probably not used to people like him,” Gerald said.

“And you are, Gerald?” I said.

He smiled briefly, but the look in his eyes didn’t change. “I’m an old man. I’ve seen a lot. Be careful with him. He’s dangerous.”

I shook my head. “He’s a hard-ass, but he’s not dangerous, Gerald.”

I left the “at least not to me” unsaid. Michael would never hurt me, but whether that courtesy extended to others was something I dared not consider too closely.

“Whatever you say, dear,” Gerald said indulgently. A moment later, his expression was the same neutral reserve that I had become so accustomed to seeing from him. “I’m going to do the rounds.”

He left without saying anything else, and though I had my own tasks to get back to, I didn’t follow, not immediately.

Something about Gerald’s warning stuck with me, made me think more than it should have. It was no secret Gerald was not a fan of Michael’s, and that the feeling was mutual.

It also wasn’t a secret, at least as far as I was concerned, that the Murphy brothers were into some interesting business.

I somehow suspected that hotel linen and a marketing budget was not at the top of the agenda at corporate meetings among the Murphy brothers. In fact, their reputations were well-known. I was a workaholic with absolutely no ties to anything as interesting as organized crime, but even I had heard of them.

I was ambivalent about the whole thing, or, more accurately, the alleged thing.

Michael’s brother Patrick, the one who was ultimately in charge, had always been decent and fair. Even, occasionally, pleasant, something I couldn’t really say for his brother. He treated the staff well, made sure they were compensated well, and gave Gerald and me, with the exception of Michael’s presence, space to run the hotel.

Nothing else mattered to me, so I paid the gossip no mind.

Of course, that didn’t change the truth of what Gerald had said.

Michael was dangerous.

I knew that, just as much as I knew anything else. Despite that awareness, I wasn’t afraid of him.

Was annoyed by him, was, as much as it pained me to admit, powerfully attracted to him. But I had nothing to fear from him.

None of us did.

Maybe I should find Gerald, tell him that.

I considered it but then disregarded the idea.

Michael Murphy didn’t need me to champion him—I had a million better things to do with my time.

I finished my bottle of water, closed the magazine, and then began my rounds, determined to keep Michael Murphy completely out of my mind.