‘I hope you’ll enjoy your time with us, Harper,’ he says, and takes a slow sip of wine.
He’s hard to read, doesn’t give much away when he slips on his neutral expression. ‘I’m sure I will.’ If I can keep myself out of trouble that is. And this man has trouble written all over him. A weakness of mine is to go directly on a collision course into chaos. I must resist.
Speaking of chaos, I spot Michel by the door. He gives me a wave, which I return. When his gaze skips to Xavier, his smile soon drops. It seems like Michel is really not a fan of our fierce leader…
19
I’m up bright and early, not because I’m full of beans, but because the staff party kicked off somewhere around the bedtime hour and only finished a few hours ago. I peeked out at one point but quickly retreated when there was some kind of conga line going and they encouraged me to join in. I was in the thick of it with my billionaire and his less wealthy love interest. Side note: why can’t we have a few more leading ladies who take the billionaire role? I go to make a post about it on Bookstagram, before I remember I don’t have that option any more.
Anyway, at stupid o’clock, the gang took my refusal to join the party well, their ebullient moods helped by the free-flowing beer served in red solo cups. I get it, they need to blow off steam after a long day serving guests in the hot sun. I did the same, relaxed after a rather interesting and often combative dinner with Xavier by opening a book and falling in love with the hero. The billionaire CEO who also tried those same power moves on his poor unsuspecting personal assistant. There were a lot of parallels, so I found myself reading far too late trying to get an insight into Xavier, I mean, the hero of the story…
I shower and dress, grab the map and head outside. It takes all of three seconds before I do an about-face and go back inside. This time I lather myself in sunscreen, don my straw hat and ring the front desk for the staff golf cart. I’m all for getting my steps up but the heat is almost obnoxious, and I’ll be a puddle.
Mariola whizzes over in the cart, brakes too late and runs straight into a love swing, a relic of the seventies, with its brown and orange daisy print. ‘Oops!’ she gasps. ‘Don’t tell anyone I did that.’
‘Your secret is safe with me. No damage done.’ As soon as the words leave my mouth, the love swing tips over and crashes into a small potted palm, knocking it over with a loud crack. ‘Umm, nothing some tape won’t fix, eh? I suppose we don’t need to be precious about the décor if it’s all getting renovated soon anyway.’
Worry shines in her eyes. ‘The staff suites aren’t getting renovated for the foreseeable. And any damage comes out of our salaries. This is Joji’s fault. He should be the one driving this death trap.’
There’s a lot to unpack. ‘Why aren’t the staff quarters being renovated? Is it a cost thing?’
‘The guest experience is what’s important.’ Understandable, and the staff quarters aren’t awful, they’re just circa 1970s, but are still fully functional.
‘Of course. What’s the deal with damages though?’
She shrugs. ‘A new rule. Any breakages are to be paid by staff. There have been some… incidents, that were perhaps avoidable. So Xavier hopes this will encourage staff to take more care. But you can imagine how that’s going in the indoor bar areas.’ Mariola grimaces.
‘Badly, I’d guess. Is it fair to ask staff to pay for accidents though? I mean, these things happen.’
‘He means well, trying all these new initiatives, it’s just that sometimes…’ She glances over her shoulder as if to check no one is eavesdropping. ‘He gets them so very wrong. In fairness though, some staff have done the wrong thing and taken advantage in the past, so he’s trying to rein in that sort of behaviour.’
Mariola strikes me as a fair and honest type. She’s able to point out what’s not working but also what is – there’s none of that us-against-management type of energy from her, which is refreshing.
Her face is pinched when she says, ‘I’ll have to tell Xavier I broke the pot and hope it doesn’t take too big a chunk from my wages.’
That doesn’t sit well with me. How can it even be legal to deduct from wages like that? ‘No, I’ll tell him it was my fault. Don’t even worry about it.’ Before she can argue, I press on. ‘Why don’t you wake up Joji, in case you drive over a person next time? A dead guest; well, that will be a little too White Lotusy to explain away.’
She crinkles her brow. ‘White Lotusy?’
I smile. ‘You haven’t seen any ofTheWhite LotusTV series? Well, that’s our Friday night sorted then.’
Shyness flits across her features. ‘OK, that sounds fun. I’ll rouse Joji after I take you to the bookshop. Xavier is waiting for you.’
‘Who has meetings before caffeine?’ I grumble as I make my way to the golf cart. I did make an instant coffee in my little kitchenette this morning, but it’s not quite the same as the real thing.
Mariola grins. ‘Xavier’s a morning person.’
‘Gross. Oh, and fair warning when it comes to Joji, it’ll be no easy feat waking him. Last I saw him was a few hours ago playing beer pong and belting out Sabrina Carpenter songs. The guy’s got an impressive range. Do the staff party like that every night?’
Mariola shakes her head with a laugh. ‘No, it was a staff going-away party. Most of us went to bed well before midnight. Louise is leaving to work on a cruise ship. She’s keen to see the world past the Seychelles archipelago.’
Mariola drives the golf cart more sedately along the pebbled pathways of the resort. I helpfully point out guests, so she doesn’t run them down and make them into human pancakes. ‘I usually cycle because it’s quicker.’
‘Maybe I’ll cycle in future too.’ Yesterday I saw staff zipping along on bikes, holding trays aloft or just getting themselves from point A to point B. I picture myself on a bike, the basket in front piled with books…
20
I’m heartened by the fact Mariola is driving the cart towards the beach, rather than away from it. Maybe the bookshop isn’t at the back of beyond, in some dark 70s-styled room. The closer we get, the cooler the breeze, which is a godsend with the thick soupy humidity that returned like clockwork right after sunrise.
