Page 41 of Tasty Cherry

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Page 41 of Tasty Cherry

“He seems determined to get fired. Rude and late.” I run the back of my hand over my eyes. “Raya made him wash dishes today.”

This makes her smile. “How did he take that?”

“He charmed the pants off the ladies and made friends with all the men. He asked to go back tomorrow.”

Now she frowns. “He’s always been like that.”

“He’s something.”

“And you invited him into your livelihood. Doesn’t he reflect badly on you?”

I chug a long pull of beer. “Nobody’s saying it, at least not yet. Raya’s annoyed, and he’s already the talk of the other employees.”

“Everyone will love him by Friday, other than any rivals or authority figures. That’s how he operates.”

She’s right. “We’ll see how it goes. I only promised Uncle Roger to give him a shot, not to put up with any nonsense.”

“Sounds like he’s going to push boundaries with Raya. Not that it’s hard.” She works faster now, finding her rhythm in opening the packets and stuffing them with stickers.

I set down my bottle to help her. “Raya will take it to Havannah, no doubt. It’s only a matter of when.”

“Will Havannah call you in?”

“Probably, but not in a troubled way, more in a ‘what should we do about this?’”

“He’ll charm her. He’s strategic.”

“Probably so.”

We work in companionable silence until all the packets are filled. She peels the backing off an extra cloud and sticks it to my nose. “Put on a happy face.”

I laugh, taking the sticker off my nose and pushing it on her forehead. “You’re the happy one.”

“I’m loving that you have such good work gossip these days. Should I heat up our leftovers from the other night?”

“It’s my turn to cook.”

“I made too much King Ranch Casserole, though. Remember?”

“Right. Okay. That sounds good.”

She trots off for the kitchen, and I stare up at the ceiling, grateful not to have to cook while I’m so distracted. I can picture Mila in the bed, her dark hair spread all over the white pillow. That moment of surprise. The warm softness of her body when I fell asleep holding her in my arms.

Surely it was more than what she said, just one night.

I know it was.

I have to convince her.

The next morning, when Brooklyn and Mila arrive at the front desk, it’s quieter. Tuesday isn’t a popular check-out day, and Jessica and Aisha have it under control.

“I don’t think the two of you got to see much of the hotel yesterday,” I say. “How about I take you on my rounds?”

“That sounds fun,” Brooklyn says.

Mila watches me warily, as if she thinks I’m up to something.

I am undaunted. “Let’s head to the princess wing. There’s lots of empty rooms, and you should know about some of our spectacular offerings.” I hold out my arm to gesture to the wing, which has a castle facade over the entrance.




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