But even in Blake’s current state of mind he could acknowledge that drinking was not the way to approach this.
With his coffee in his hand, he walked to the window and looked out at the bustle of Cape Town on a Monday morning. The hotel overlooked parts of the business district, and he could feel the busyness of people trying to get somewhere rife in the air as he watched the relays of public transport. But he could also glimpse Table Mountain in the background, and he appreciated the simplicity of its magnitude. It somehow made him feel steadier as he thought about the state the hotel was in.
How had he let this happen?
The thought wouldn’t leave his head. He had picked up that the hotel had been struggling years ago—which was why he had fired Landon and promoted Connor—but still this shouldn’t have got past him. But he knew why it had. And he needed to be honest with himself before he blamed his employees when he was probably just as responsible for this mess.
He had been too focused on dealing with Julia to notice that the business was suffering.
His legs were restless now, as he got to the core of the problem, and he began to pace, coffee in hand, contemplating the situation. About five years ago the Elegance Hotel in Port Elizabeth had started losing staff at a high rate. When he’d noticed how low their retention numbers were, he’d arranged a meeting with HR to discuss it.
It had been at that meeting that he’d first met Julia.
She hadn’t seemed to care that he was her boss, and had pushed the boundaries of what he had considered appropriate professional behaviour. But the reasons she had given him for losing staff had been right, and he’d had to acknowledge that she was an asset to their team. And as soon as he had she’d given him the smile that had drawn him in. Bright, bold, beautiful.
To this day, whenever he thought about that smile he felt a knock to his heart. Especially since those thoughts were so closely intertwined with the way it had softened when she’d looked at her son. The boy who had reminded him eerily of himself, and made him think about how Julia was giving him something Blake never had—a mother.
Until one day it had all shattered into the pieces that still haunted him.
He knew that Julia had taken his attention away from the hotels. And now this hotel was paying the price of a mistake he’d made before he’d known better. The thought conjured up Callie’s face in his mind, but he forced it away, hoping to forget the way her eyes lit up her face when she smiled. He had just remembered the reason he didn’t want to be attracted to her. He didn’t want to be distracted either, and she had the word distraction written all over her beautiful face. And, he reminded himself again, he knew better now.
He grunted at the thought, walked back to the desk, and began to make some calls.
And ignored the face of the woman he had only met a few days ago as it drifted around in his head.
* * *
‘Yes, darling, include that in my trip. I would love to see the mountain everyone keeps harping on about. And please include some cultural museums on my tour.’ The woman sniffed, and placed a dignified hand on the very expensive pearls she wore around her neck. ‘I can’t only be doing touristy things, you know.’
‘Of course, Mrs Applecombe.’ Callie resisted the urge to tell the woman that visiting museums was very much a ‘touristy’ thing. ‘I’ll draw up a package for you and have it sent to your room by the end of the day. If you agree, we can arrange for the tour to be done the day after tomorrow.’
‘Delightful.’ Mrs Applecombe clasped her hands together. ‘I just know Henry will love what we’ve discussed. Just remember, dear, that it’s—’
‘Supposed to be a surprise. I know.’ Callie smiled, and stood. ‘I’ll make sure that it’s everything you could hope for and more.’
After a few more lengthy reminders about the surprise anniversary gift for her husband Mrs Applecombe finally left, and Callie sighed in relief. She loved the woman’s spirit, but after forty minutes of going back and forth about a tour Callie knew she could have designed in her sleep, she needed a break.
Luckily it was one o’clock, which meant she could take lunch. But instead of sneaking into the kitchen, as she did most days, she locked the door to her office and flopped down on the two-seater couch she’d crammed into the small space so that if her guests wanted to they could be slightly more comfortable.
It had been a long morning. She’d done a quick tour first thing when she’d got in, followed by meetings with three guests wanting to plan trips. Usually she would be ecstatic about it. She loved her job. And she had Connor to thank for that.
She sighed, and sank even lower on the couch. Officially she was the ‘Specialised Concierge’—a title she had initially thought pretentious, but one that seemed to thrill many of the more elite guests she worked with at the hotel. Unofficially she was a glorified tour guide, whose brother had persuaded her to work at the hotel to drag her from the very dark place she had been in after their parents’ deaths.
She didn’t have to think back that far to acknowledge that the job had saved her from that dark place. Once she had seen her parents’ coffins descend into the ground—once she had watched people say their farewells and return to their lives as usual—she had found herself slipping. And even though her brother had been close to broken himself, he had stepped up and had helped her turn her life into something she knew had been out of her grasp after the car crash that had destroyed the life she had known and the people she loved.
The thought made her miss him terribly, and she grabbed her handbag and headed to Connor’s office. Maybe he felt like having lunch together, and he could calm the ache that had suddenly started in her heart.
As she walked the short distance to his office she greeted some of the guests she recognised and nodded politely at those she didn’t. She smiled in sympathy when she saw her friend Kate, dealing with a clearly testy guest at the front desk, and laughed when Kate mimicked placing a gun to her head as the guest leaned down to sign something.
Connor’s door was slightly ajar when she got there, and she paused before knocking when she heard voices.
‘If we keep doing what we’re doing, in a couple of years—three, max—the hotel will be turning a profit again, Blake.’ Connor’s voice sounded panicked. ‘I’m just not sure this plan is the best option. Surely there’s something else we can do? Especially after we’ve stepped up in the last few years.’
‘Connor, no one is denying the work you’ve done at the hotel. You’ve increased turnover by fifty per cent since you took over—which is saying something when you consider the state Landon left it in. But three years is too long to have a business running in the red.’ There was a pause, and then Blake continued. ‘Would you rather we move on to the other option? I’ve told you that it would come with a lot more complications...’
‘Of course I would prefer any other option. But you know what’s best for the hotel.’
Callie felt a trickle of unease run through her when she heard her brother’s voice. It wasn’t panicked this time, but resigned, as though he had given up hope on something.
‘All right, then.’ There was a beat of silence. ‘I suppose we should start preparing to lay off staff.’
The words were fatalistic, and yet it took Callie a while to process what
