“Nine would be ideal. But I guess, if we offer overtime, and maybe come up with some decent signing incentives, we could do with seven. But no less than that.”
“Some of the hotels out by the interstate are offering signing bonuses to new employees, or current employees who recruit someone new,” Traci said. “Maybe we could try something like that.”
“I can make some calls,” Charlie said. “Chefs come and go all the time. We can find somebody in the kitchen, but as for the front desk…”
She swiveled back around. “I’ll talk to Parrish.”
“I don’t know if that’s a great idea,” Charlie said slowly. “How will it look to the rest of the staff if you install your niece in a high-visibility job like that?”
“It’ll look like this is a family-owned company and she’s family,” Traci said.
Charlie clearly wasn’t in favor of the idea. “Didn’t I hear something about her spending the summer in Europe?”
“I’ll talk to her,” Traci said firmly. “But if you see Ric? Don’t mention it, understand?”
“Got it.” Charlie didn’t need to ask any more questions. He’d worked for the Eddings family all this time; he knew where all the bodies were buried. Literally. Like her, he’d grown up in the business. Traci knew he’d do whatever it took to keep the Saint afloat. Just as she would.
CHAPTER 2
PARRISH
Parrish Eddings watched from her bedroom window as her father’s car sped backward down the sloping driveway. She heard the gears of the Porsche grind as Ric slammed it into first gear and raced away. Toward where?
“Anywhere but here,” she whispered aloud. Downstairs, she heard her stepmother slamming things. Pots and pans in the kitchen. She heard the sound of a glass shattering. The front door closed heavily with a thud, then reopened and slammed again. And again.
Just another typical Monday. No telling what the fight was about. Madelyn’s new kitten, a Himalayan, refused to use the litter box, preferring the clothes Ric inevitably left on their bedroom floor. Or maybe it was about Ric’s late hours. She’d heard him creeping up the stairs at 3:15A.M.on Sunday night.
More likely it was about money. Madelyn no longer cared about her husband’s comings and goings. She’d known exactly what she was getting when she married Ric. Or so she thought.
Parrish went back to her packing. Her clothes were folded and arranged in tidy little piles atop her neatly made bed in her very adorable bedroom, which Madelyn had decorated without Parrish’s consent or input, after marrying Ric.
She could never pin down why she hated this room so much. She loved soft teal, aquas, and pale pinks, which was the current color palette. The bed was big and soft, and the first time she’d brought a boyhome to it, she’d delighted in imagining what Madelyn would say if she’d known all the things they’d done atop that fluffy down duvet.
It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Back to packing. She’d given herself a strict mandate: the medium-sized rolling suitcase, and her backpack. Anything more she needed in Europe, she could buy. With her own damn money. She couldn’t wait to wave goodbye to the drama and the trauma of the Ric and Maddy show. Whee!
When her phone rang she almost didn’t pick up, but when she saw the caller ID, her resolve softened.
“Heyyyy,” Traci said.
Parrish’s body relaxed at the sound of her favorite aunt’s voice. Traci was on her side, always and forever. They were a team.
“Got plans for lunch?” Traci asked.
“I’m packing, but I guess I could take a break. What did you have in mind?”
“I’ll pick you up in ten,” Traci said. “And hey, this is just us. Right? Your dad and stepmom don’t need to know our plans.”
“As if,” Parrish said. “I’ll meet you down by the mailbox. You know what a sneaky little spy Madelyn can be.”
Traci took the coast road and they ended up at BluePointe, a new planned development fifteen miles north of the Saint.
“Checking out the competition?” Parrish asked as they walked toward the restaurant, which was located in the middle of the resort’s faux village of expensive shops and food trucks.
“Something like that. I’ll tell you after we’ve ordered.”
Parrish’s spidy-sense antennae were activated. Her aunt was being deliberately evasive.
They waited at the hostess stand for five minutes before a harried server rushed up and showed them to a table, handing them vinyl-covered menus that were sticky with what smelled like maple syrup.
