The Player plus The Pact equals I Do Read Online Louise Bay

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
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“What would you do if it were your mom?” I ask him.

He almost rolls his eyes and starts tapping away on the keyboard. “I’d move this room—ten-twelve—to a higher floor, since they’re not checking in until this afternoon,” he says, pointing at the screen. “It gives them an upgrade and leaves space for the Pearsons.”

Well, that wasn’t hard.

“Okay, that sounds like a good solution.” I’m not quite sure why it wasn’t offered in the first place. “Malika, can you show the Pearsons to their room personally?”

Ali stands next to me, his mouth pressed into a disapproving line. It feels like he was deliberately obstructing a good check-in experience. Why would he act like that in front of his boss?

“Thanks, Ali. It’s so great you were able to solve that issue.”

He gives me a tight smile, and I head over to the concierge desk to leave things to cool down a little.

I’ve always thought Ali was one of the highlights of The Mayfair staff. He’s so popular and always the life of any social gathering where we’re all together—the annual holiday party or a break-room birthday celebration. But I suppose I always saw him through the lens of being one of his co-workers. I hope he doesn’t make life difficult for me. I already have enough fires to put out. I don’t need to find new flames.

I cross the lobby and introduce myself to the two new members of the concierge team before heading back to my office. I’ve been churning over an introductory email to all staff, and Ali’s reaction this morning has just given me an idea.

I open the door to my office to the scent of roses. They really do look incredible. I’m not making an announcement at the hotel about my engagement to Leo. No one needs to know, and I don’t need anyone thinking my new role here is nepotism. Maybe some of them will find out, but even if they do, most of them won’t know Leo owns the place. All any of the staff care about is who their overall manager is. And that’s me. For now.

I sit at my desk and begin to type an email. I introduce myself, explaining my and my mother’s experiences in hospitality, how I’ve worked at The Mayfair in various roles, that I’m passionate about keeping the hotel in the top tier of New York hotels. More like I’m committed to getting us into the top tier, but there’s no point in saying that.

Finally, I announce that I will be leaving locked ballot boxes throughout the staff areas, and they should feel free to anonymously drop in the three changes they’d like to see in the hotel or the area in which they work. I reassure everyone that I’m the only person who will see anything posted in these boxes.

I know from experience that the people on the ground often know where problems are and how to solve them, but they don’t have a voice or are afraid to speak out. Even today, I got the feeling that Malika was uncomfortable providing the obvious solution to the Pearsons’ issue because she thought Ali would disapprove. No staff member should ever be concerned about doing what’s right to please our guests.

I suspect Ali is a block to a better experience on reception. But before I make changes, I want to give people a chance to have their voices heard.

FOURTEEN

Leo

There are certain points in a development that feel like victories—points I celebrate and allow myself to get excited over. New River just had first-fix electrics and plumbing installed, and the lobby and show apartment are nearly ready. I can finally see how incredible the finished project is going to be.

“Can you open the roof?” I ask my driver. I’ve already wound down the windows, but I need to feel as New York as it’s possible to feel right now. I can’t get enough of this awesome city and I want to experience it all. I wanna put my head out of the window, like a dog, and take in the scent of hot dog stands and overspilling garbage and the late September sun that I can see only if I look up to the sky. I want to hear beeping car horns and the shrieks of an unhappy restaurant owner yelling at someone in the street, or the construction workers calling to one another, taking up the road.

I owe everything I have to this city and my parents for bringing me here. There’s nothing I don’t love about it.

We pull up outside my building and I can’t wait to get inside. The phenomenal views from my apartment are calling me; I want to look out onto the skyline and give thanks.

I burst into the apartment and immediately hear Bach’s cello suites. I smile. Jules. Who knew that I’d actually look forward to coming home to a roommate?


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