Compromising Her Position Page 3

  Barrington glanced at the envelopes. “Leave them with me. I’ll have payroll mail them to the employees.”

  “One is Chelsea Wayne’s. I saw her earlier today. I’d like to go ahead and deliver it. Can you direct me to her office?”

  “She’s not here. Chelsea resigned shortly after the party.”

  Shit. Had she resigned because of what happened in the supply closet? If so, what reason had she given Barrington? He couldn’t afford rumors of misconduct to pollute this deal. His father’s conditions for stepping down as chairman of the board had been very clear: three completed acquisitions, flawlessly executed and seamlessly integrated. Las Ventanas brought the count to two. At least it had, until this afternoon, when he’d given in to the rush of taking a risk. Now the goal he’d been chasing started spiraling out of reach like a fly ball he’d taken his eye off for one second too long.

  “Resigned? That’s very sudden, isn’t it?” He kept his voice cool, despite his concern, and eyed Barrington until the other man lifted his head and returned his stare. “After all, she’s a rising star at Las Ventanas. We had plans for her.”

  Barrington’s gaze slithered away and he cleared his throat. “I had to deliver some disappointing personal news to her today. Being unprofessional and immature, she reacted by tendering her resignation.”

  The ground firmed under his feet and the trajectory between goal and attainment aligned once again. Her departure didn’t revolve around their case of mistaken identity. Even so, her resignation presented a problem, and, more frustrating, Barrington didn’t seem to appreciate that fact. “I’m surprised you’re so calm about it, Paul. A source gave me the impression you and Chelsea were close. Some would say intimate.” Since his “source” was Chelsea herself, he felt reasonably confident making the statement.

  The helmet-headed blowhard chuckled and wagged a finger at him. “Your sources are good, but not quite up-to-date. We dated, casually, for the past few months, but I broke things off with her today.” He sighed, as if burdened by the strain of the ordeal. “Chelsea took it hard. She opted to resign.”

  “And you let her? St. Sebastian considers her a key employee. The sellers told us she played an instrumental role in realizing Las Ventanas’ potential as a family resort. Before then, it was just another pleasant but unremarkable property vying for distinction in Montenido’s crowded romantic getaway market.”

  Barrington frowned. “Chelsea and I partnered on the project. We both recognized our prime location and large number of multi-room suites meant Las Ventanas could position itself as an upscale, family-friendly destination. And, yes, with my guidance, she created a plan to successfully attract the demographic we targeted. However, with all due respect, I think you’re overstating the value of a single, second-tier employee.”

  With all due respect generally meant none, and in this case the feeling was mutual. “You consider the assistant manager a second-tier employee?”

  “She’s enthusiastic and full of ideas, but she’s also extremely green. Once the owners promoted me to general manager, I quickly realized mentoring her was a full-time job. It took someone with my business acumen to sift through all her ideas and separate the gold from the garbage. It took someone with my skills to turn those ideas into reality.”

  What in God’s name had she seen in this dickhead? A St. Sebastian-caliber leader understood management’s role to attract talented, enthusiastic people to the team, and then give them the resources they needed to succeed, not minimize their contributions and take credit for their ideas. On that philosophy, he and his father steadfastly agreed, which meant Barrington had to go. Not immediately, because firing the general manager risked inciting a mass exodus as everyone assumed they were about to get canned, but he’d start a discreet search. He’d happily pull the plug on Barrington when they found the right successor. In the meantime, however, Chelsea’s sudden departure sent a negative message to other employees. Obviously, he needed to point that out. With all due respect.

  “She’s good at her job, and popular with guests and staff. Allowing her to leave on the heels of the acquisition implies we dismissed her or she resigned rather than be associated with St. Sebastian. Neither implication is acceptable as they both give rise to an employee retention issue. Talk her out of it. At the very least, negotiate an extension.”

  Paul looked as if he’d swallowed his tongue. “How in God’s name am I supposed to do that?”

  Rafe stood and shrugged. “Use your business acumen to figure it out.”

  “It’s not that simple. There’s a…complication.”

  “It’s not complicated. I’ll break it down for you. Convince. Her. To. Stay.”

  “I’m involved with another staff member,” he blurted. “I’m engaged to Cindy Ruffy. Under the circumstances, Chelsea’s departure is for the best.”

  Fuck. If she had any pride, she sure as hell wasn’t going to stay. “Nice timing, Paul. You drop this on her at the holiday party, right after we announce the deal. What were you thinking?”

  “I held out until the deal closed, so she didn’t leave while there was work to be done. But I couldn’t wait any longer. Cindy and I are starting a family. Her condition will become apparent, and she wants to get married before—”

  “I get it,” he interrupted, not bothering to hide his impatience. Barrington couldn’t sink much lower in his estimation. St. Sebastian definitely did not want this guy. The sooner he found a replacement, the better. They’d manage the messaging to the staff, as they would the news about Chelsea’s departure.

  Already focused on the next steps, he strode toward the door. What a mess. Luc wouldn’t miss the opportunity to point out he’d failed to identify a significant interpersonal cluster-fuck lurking below the surface at Las Ventanas. But it was containable. He paused at the door, and turned to Barrington. “Here’s how this is going to go down. We—meaning St. Sebastian’s corporate communications specialists, and not you, or Miss Ruffy, or anyone else—will handle the employee announcement regarding Chelsea’s departure. We’ll prepare a release for tomorrow morning. If I hear a whisper about it before then, both you and Miss Ruffy are fired. Understood?”

  “B-but that’s completely unfair! Chelsea could say something to someone.”

  “You should hope she has better things to do than broadcast her personal life.”

  He certainly hoped she did.

  “My whole life just blew up,” Chelsea sobbed as she sat on a stool in Babycakes’ white tile and stainless steel kitchen, clutching a glass of cabernet in one hand and the last quarter of a double frosted fudge brownie cupcake in the other. Until now, she wouldn’t have thought it possible to feel anything but blissfully happy at Babycakes. Usually just breathing in the scents of vanilla and cinnamon, seeing the explosion of colors in the glass display cases, sent her mood soaring. But not tonight. Thank God the bakery had closed an hour ago. Customers didn’t want a side of crazy-woman-having-a-breakdown with their coffee and carbs.

  Laurie took Chelsea’s wineglass and placed it on the counter, then handed her a wad of tissues and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Today goes down in the record book of bad days, for sure, but come on, your life hasn’t blown up.”

  “Y-yes, it has.” She finished the last bite of the cupcake, and scrubbed the tissue over her cheeks. “Let me reconstruct the blast for you. The man I was involved with cheated on me and dumped me for the ice queen of HR, who also happens to be the mother of his unborn child. To spare myself the humiliation of watching them live happily ever after, I resigned from a job I loved, which ultimately may have been unnecessary, because after the stunt I pulled in the supply closet, I was likely to get fired as soon as the new owner found an excuse to boot me.” She crumpled the tissue. “God, when did I become such a loser?”

  Laurie gave her a squeeze. “You’re not a loser. You picked a loser. There’s a difference.”

  “Not to me. I’m tired of having my heart stomped on.” She tossed the
tissue into the trash. “I’m done with love.”

  “Because of Paul Barrington? That’s like giving up cake because you had a bad Twinkie.”

  “Paul’s a Twinkie?”

  “The human equivalent. A Twinkie isn’t real cake, and what you had with Paul wasn’t real love.”

  “If Paul was my only disastrous choice, I might put the blame on him, but he’s not. Look at my history. Chad Dunkleman ditched me at prom and took Tammy Ballsmore home in the white stretch Hummer I kicked in half the money to rent. We’d dated for three years.”

  “Tammy had a well-earned reputation for living up to her last name, Chad was drunk, and you secretly hated the idea of giving up your V-card in the cheesy white Hummer. You can’t possibly regret holding out for something better than prom night with Chad Dunkleman.”

  She shrugged. “So I held out for college, only to have my boyfriend spend a semester in Spain and elope with a girl he met in a Barcelona nightclub.”

  “Hey, at least you didn’t pay for the trip.”

  “No, but I spent hours tutoring him in Spanish so he’d qualify for the study abroad program.” She picked up her wine and took a long gulp, wishing she could numb her heart as easily as she could numb her face. “Every single one of my relationships follows the same pattern. I trust. I give. I get dumped. Well, I’m done. The universe has been trying to send me a message, and today I received it, loud and clear. I only had to lose everything to finally listen. No more men. No more dating. No more love.”

  “You can’t take what happened with Paul as a sign from the universe. Love sucker-punches everyone at some point.”

  “Not you.”

  Laurie didn’t even try to deny it. “That’s because I know how to guard my heart.” She tapped a snowflake-embossed red fingernail on the stainless steel counter. “Not because I’ve given up on men.”

  “I lack the heart-guarding gene.”

  “No, you don’t. You simply haven’t learned to use it. Why would you? Your mom married her high school sweetheart. For her, your dad was Mr. Forever.” She made air quotes around the words. “Heartwarming, but not very realistic these days, yet you approach dating as a quest for Mr. Forever instead of a chance to have a little fun, bask in mutual attraction, and, ideally, enjoy entertaining sex with Mr. For-the-Moment.”

  Chelsea propped an elbow on the counter and rested her chin on her palm. “That’s all you want from a relationship? Sexy fun with Mr. For-the-Moment?”

  She shrugged. “Call me shallow, but yeah, that’s all I’m expecting. If a guy wants more from me, he’s got to earn it.”

  “And how does he do that?”

  “No one’s managed yet, but in theory, he proves he’s got more to give.”

  “But if no man has met your standard, maybe you’ve set your standard too high?”

  “I’m not the one crying into my wine tonight,” she pointed out. “You, on the other hand, leave your heart way too accessible, instead of making a man demonstrate he’s worthy of the emotional investment. You treat him like he’s the prize.” She poked Chelsea’s shoulder. “You’re the prize. Start treating yourself like one.”

  She placed her wineglass on the counter and turned the smooth, slim stem with her fingers. “I don’t feel like a prize. I feel like a fool.”

  “You’re not a fool, Chels, but you’re living your life by all the nice girl rules your mother drummed into you, and that’s not who you are.”

  “I’m not a nice girl?”

  Laurie poked her again. “You know what I mean. You’re a caterer.”

  “Um. No. Last time I checked I was unemployed.”

  “I mean you cater to people. There’s a part of you that craves approval, and you seek it by being the perfect daughter, perfect employee. Perfect girlfriend. It’s no accident you’re so good at your job. The hospitality industry revolves around anticipating and accommodating your guests’ needs. You’re a natural. But those caterer instincts that make you so good at your job carry over to your relationships, and…well…you get taken advantage of.”

  Truth weighed heavy. She dropped her head to the counter and rested her hot face against the cold steel. “I’m back to feeling like a fool. I guess I need some new rules.”

  Laurie patted her back. “You do, because there’s another side to this nice girl. She’s fun-loving, a little bit naughty, and she wants to come out and play.”

  Chelsea sniffed. “You think so?”

  “I know so. She tackle-fucked Rafe St. Sebastian in a supply closet.”

  “Wow. Did you invent that term for me?”

  “Yep.” She buffed her nails on her sweater, and then blew on them.

  “Okay, here’s the thing, whatever I did, I did it by mistake. I didn’t know it was him.”

  “Well, next time you should—”

  “Oh, no. No next time.”

  “Why? Not only is he a walking orgasm, but one with the power to render a woman deaf, dumb, and blind with pleasure.”

  Chelsea rolled her eyes, though she could feel the flush rising in her cheeks. “Do you really see me getting involved with someone like Rafe St. Sebastian, playboy billionaire?”

  “Who said anything about getting involved? You’re living by new rules, remember? No more looking for Mr. Forever. You’re looking for Mr. For-the-Moment. You seek fun, attraction, and mind-blowing sex. He meets all three criteria. Naughty Chelsea wants to play, and he’s the perfect plaything. Consider him an important first step on a journey of personal growth and self-discovery.”

  Except it would be a short journey, because I’d die of embarrassment if I ever saw him again. Though true, something told her the explanation would disappoint Laurie, so she offered another truth. “I’ve got more pressing priorities right now than finding a plaything. Even Naughty Chelsea has obligations, and she needs a paycheck to meet them.”

  Her friend’s grin faded. “How dire is the situation?”

  “My pride didn’t check my bank balance before I tendered my resignation. I just walked away from a Christmas bonus I kind of already spent on gifts.” Gifts like the Rolex Paul wanted—the one she’d had engraved and couldn’t return. “Visa’s going to knock on my door pretty hard come January.”

  “I can’t scrape together a lot, but I can help if you need a loan.”

  She shook her head. Laurie funneled every extra dime into Babycakes. Chelsea couldn’t take resources away from her best friend’s dream. “Thanks, but hopefully I’m going to get another job right away. This afternoon I spoke with a recruiter who’s been calling about a general manager opportunity at a Tradewinds Resort. I’m interviewing with the owners, Mr. and Mrs. Templeton, tomorrow at their headquarters in Los Angeles.”

  “That’s awesome.” She picked up a towel and began wiping down the counter. “Where’s the resort?”

  Chelsea mentally braced for another outburst. “Maui.”

  “Maui!” She dropped the towel. “Chels, when I told you to start a new phase of your life, I didn’t mean pack up and move thousands of miles away.”

  “I’m not packing my bags yet. It’s just an interview. I haven’t gotten the job.”

  “You will. And then I’ll miss you.”

  Chelsea reached over and hugged her friend, burying her face in Laurie’s curls. “I’ll miss you too, but I think a change of scenery would do me good.” She drew away. “Sounds a lot better than hanging around Montenido, unemployed and broke, watching Cindy and Paul get married and start a family.”

  “You’d be hanging around Montenido, watching Paul and Cindy make each other miserable, as they inevitably will, and thanking God it didn’t happen to you.”

  “I love you, but I realize, as my friend, you’re duty-bound to say stuff like Paul and Cindy deserve each other and are destined for misery. And not say stuff like, ‘I told you so,’ and ‘You’re an idiot.’”

  “They are bound for misery, and you’re not an idiot.” Laurie took their wineglasses to the sink.

&nb
sp; “Well, I feel like a pretty big one. A few thousand miles might change my perspective, but, right now—”

  “Right now you need some distance. I get it. Moving to Maui ought to give you plenty.”

  Chelsea picked up a dishtowel and twisted it in her hands. “Hopefully. That’s the plan.”

  “Tradewinds…the name sounds familiar. Isn’t it one of those resorts where people go to hook up while on vacation?”

  “Maui’s most spectacular singles destination. Flirt, mingle, and make your fantasies come true during your dream vacation. Perfect job for a woman embracing her naughty side, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. But still. Maui.”

  “I know.” A lump threatened to form in her throat at the thought of leaving her family, friends—everything she loved. She swallowed it down. “Anyway, I should get going. Thanks for the shoulder to cry on.”

  “My sofa has a vacancy.”

  Though tempted, Chelsea shook her head. Her apartment was a short walk along well-lit sidewalks she knew like the back of her hand. She’d leaned on Laurie enough for one night.

  “I have some stuff I need to see to at home.”

  Polish her résumé.

  Change her Facebook status to “Jilted.”

  Donate an absurdly expensive watch to charity.

  Escaping to Maui sounded better by the second.

  Chapter Five

  “Let me understand the situation. As soon as you pulled the trigger on the deal, the assistant manager resigned because her paramour, the general manager, announced his engagement to the head of human resources—who also happens to be carrying his child—and you saw none of this coming?”

  Rafe winced at his father’s tone, but resisted the urge to quicken his pace as he ran along the foggy shoreline behind the compound he shared with Arden. No amount of speed would enable him to outrun this call. Still, the inevitability of the conversation didn’t stop him from resenting his father’s timing. Once his day began, he rarely got a moment to himself. He disliked forfeiting the solitude of his morning run along this private stretch of beach so he could defend himself to Luc. But he would, nonetheless, defend himself. “It’s not the kind of information that comes to light during due diligence.”