Page 43

When I stepped into my office, Katy was already there, a steaming cup of mint tea in front of her as she typed rapidly on the computer. She’d spent most of yesterday showing me how to use the new management software. I still didn’t have a complete grasp of it, especially since Fred’s system was heavily paper-based while this would be all digital, but I had learned a decent amount about hotel management software while getting my diploma, so I wasn’t entirely lost. It also helped that the system was highly intuitive.

“Good morning,” Katy greeted, her long hair hanging in a straight, glossy river down her back and her pale pink cardigan giving her a soft, feminine look.

“Morning, Katy, you missed the show outside just now. One of our neighbours was blocking the entrance, and there was a whole situation with the tradespeople,” I said, thinking she’d be interested to hear the gossip, but she didn’t seem one bit intrigued.

“Yes, I was there when you called Tristan,” she replied flatly, and I blinked. Well, okay, then. “I was just setting up a few more things that I’d like to show you today,” she went on. “But so far, I think you’re picking everything up well.”

Huh. At least there was that. I hung up my things, then took the seat next to her in front of the computer just as there was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” I said at the same time Katy said, “Come in.”

Hmm, I did not like her acting like my office was her office, but I let it slide as Tristan stepped into the room with a cup of coffee in hand. “A flat white for my saviour,” he said with a handsome smile.

“Thanks. That’s so kind of you,” I replied, taking the cup and noticing Katy looking back and forth between the two of us.

“Your saviour?” she questioned.

“Rinnie saved my skin out there with the disgruntled neighbour,” Tristan replied. “If it weren’t for her, I fear I might’ve made everything worse.”

“You wouldn’t have. It’s a simple solution to let the Weirs park at the hotel until the road is fixed.”

“You’re going to let them park here? But doesn’t the husband drive a …” She trailed off. “Never mind. Great thinking, Rinnie,” she finished with a tight-lipped expression.

I had a sneaking suspicion what she was going to say. Molly’s husband drove an old, beat-up transit van from the nineties that was perpetually in need of a wash. He was a big proponent of the bangernomics tradition, where you bought an old, cheap car, fixed it up, then drove it until the wheels came off. When Katy might’ve seen the truck, I couldn’t say, but it had clearly offended her greatly to think of it being parked outside the hotel where all the fancy guests would have to see it as they went past.

“Right, well, enjoy your coffee. I have a meeting to get to, but give me a call if you need anything,” Tristan said brightly before heading out.

“He’s too nice for his own good,” Katy said quietly once he was gone.

“What makes you say that?”

She let out a small sigh. “He gives in to demands far too easily,” she replied. “If it weren’t for his brother, Derek, being such a naturally shrewd businessman, I’m honestly not sure if Tristan would’ve ever made it in this business.”

Wow, that was harsh. I found myself feeling defensive of Tristan. Just because someone was nice didn’t mean they couldn’t hack it in business. Sure, you had to make tough decisions sometimes, but good people made good bosses, which resulted in a happy workforce, and that wasn’t nothing.

“Perhaps that’s what makes the brothers such a good team. Derek is the brains, and Tristan is the heart.” The words were barely out of my mouth before I wished I could snatch them back. Katy shot me a long, assessing glance.

“He doesn’t date his employees, you know.”

I frowned. “Pardon?”

“Look, you’re not the first person to develop a crush on Tristan Balfe. I mean, the man is handsome, successful and wealthy, but everyone knows he has a strict rule about never getting involved with staff. So, you’re wasting your time going out of your way to be his ‘saviour.’ It won’t work.”

For a moment, I simply stared at her. Was she serious? Heat climbed up my neck, not from embarrassment but from sheer disbelief.

“So, that’s what you think I’m doing?” She gave an indifferent shrug. I let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Katy, I’ve worked in this hotel for half my life.”

She opened her mouth, but I wasn’t finished. “I have a deep personal connection with this place, and the business was a labour of love for my aunt and uncle for decades. I’ve spent years solving problems, putting out fires and doing whatever needs to be done to keep this place running. I was doing that long before Tristan Balfe walked through the front doors, and I’ll still be doing it long after this conversation.”

Her expression faltered ever so slightly.

“I don’t go out of my way to help because I have a crush on my boss,” I continued, my voice calm but considerably firmer than before. “I do it because it’s my job. Because I care about this hotel. Because almost a third of the staff lost their livelihoods when it was sold, and I’m incredibly grateful that I wasn’t one of them. So yes, I intend to prove every single day that keeping me on was the right decision.”

Silence settled between us. I held her gaze. “And if you think the only reason a woman works hard is to get a man’s attention …” I shook my head. “That’s a pretty sad conclusion to jump to and not one I would expect from a fellow female colleague.”

Katy blinked. “I didn’t mean—"

“No,” I said quietly. “I think you did.”