At ten to nine the next morning, I sign in on the link to the interview. I haven’t had time to talk to Tristan. His bedroom door is closed, and I’m not sure if he’s in there. For all I know, he’s sleeping somewhere else. Not that I care.
On the hour, the recruiter dials in. She smiles with her lips only, and we start with the usual pleasantries. It takes me a minute to get used to her French accent, but somehow it helps that this isn’t in person. Five minutes into the call, someone else logs in but doesn’t switch on their camera or microphone.
“It’s Nathan Beaumont,” the recruiter says as she lets him into the meeting. “He’ll listen in but probably won’t ask any questions.”
Holy Mother of God.
“Usually we have a longer procedure for recruiting,” the recruiter continues. “But because Ne’emba Island is our flagshiptropical resort, and the position needs to be filled soon, we’ve streamlined the process a bit.”
“Right,” I say with a nod. For the next half an hour, we cover all my work experience at St Chalamet. Soon I’m at ease. I do, after all, know what I’m talking about.
“We followed up on your references with St Chalamet,” the recruiter says. “St Chalamet Manhattan hotel had only the best to say about you, so I have only one last question.” She pauses and lets the statement hang. My heartbeat speeds up again, jerked out of the lull of reassurance. “Why did you leave St Chalamet?”
I swallow, keeping my face straight. Tessa drilled me on this one, but every answer we concocted sat poorly with me. Twisting the truth is just a gentle way of lying, but I can’t tell the truth here. I have an NDA—not that it helps my conscience. It hits me that the easiest lie would be one that doesn’t involve the hotel at all. “To be with Tristan,” I blurt out.Shit.
“Ah. Very good.” She smiles. “You’ve been together a long time?”
“I’ve known Tristan since I was ten years old,” I say, not hesitating at all. “And, well, then we just sort of…happened.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the truth either. I don’t know what it is. We haven’thappened,but the recruiter can fill the gaps with whatever she wants.
“So sweet,” she says. “Couples who know each other well and who’ve been together for some time usually settle best in a location like Ne’emba. As I’m sure you understand, having worked in this industry, we only employ couples at our small, off-grid establishments.”
I don’t understand at all, but I feel too stupid to ask why. I’ve spent ten years at St Chalamet and just sold myself as knowingeverything. I manage a smile that I hope doesn’t look like a grimace.
“Do you have any questions, Mr. Beaumont?” the recruiter says.
My palms burst out in sweat.
A second frame opens, and Nathan Beaumont appears on the screen. I recognize him from the board photos on the Beaumont website, but here he looks younger—mid-thirties max—and blindingly handsome.
“We’re not in the habit of poaching staff from St Chalamet,” he says with a smile. “They’re our competition, but we work with the utmost respect for each other.”Holy Mother…that British accent is swoon-worthy. “Your American experience is interesting,” he continues. “We’re building a portfolio in that market, and we have very few Americans on our team at the moment.”
“Are you planning to open hotels in the States?” This is news to me, and I’m latching on to it as if this were the last bus passing this stop forever.
“We’ve started building our first project in Massachusetts and are looking to expand. We have an in-house recruitment policy wherever possible, and with several new hotels opening in the States, it would be nice to have some experience in-house already. We’ll be recruiting a lot of staff.”
My heart is in my throat. I can’t miss this chance. Getting a foothold within Beaumont when they’re starting out in the US would be a game-changer.
“Do you have questions for us, Alexandra?” the recruiter asks.
“Um, the position in Ne’emba Island is only for three months? Why is that?”
An awkward silence hangs as the recruiter stalls and Nathan blinks at the screen. Their hesitation is just that moment too long. For once the recruiter has been caught off guard by aquestion. It always amazes me how much can be said in a few seconds of silence.
I shift in my chair. Something’s off here, but I can’t figure out where it comes from or identify the smell yet.
Nathan clears his throat.
“Of course you’d want to know,” the recruiter says. “The couple who were managing the resort had a family crisis, so they had to cut their contract short. We’ll be recruiting for someone for a long-term contract over the next few months.”
“I see.” A tiny red flag. That’s what I see. “And who’s managing the resort now?”
“We occasionally get into this type of situation, but Ne’emba runs itself with our permanent staff on the island. Jem and Mike Shabani, who manage the admin and activities, have been there for thirty years,” Nathan says as he leans back in his chair, giving me a glimpse of a mahogany bookcase filled with leatherbound books. “As for the face of Beaumont management, we have a loyal employee base and can ask our experienced couples to come out of retirement to help us. We have a couple there now who’ve been with Beaumont for over forty years.”
I nod, seeing my future unfold again like I’d always envisioned it with St Chalamet.
“I see you have ample event experience,” Nathan continues as he glances down at something. Must be my résumé. “We have a couple of high-profile guests staying at Ne’emba in the first quarter next year, plus six weddings. The weddings are high maintenance.”
“I bet.” I chuckle.
