Freeing Alex (3 page)

Two of them smile and say “hello” very politely, but
Monica’s face drops. She looks shocked, eventually stammering, “Mrs Drake.”

“Yes, Monica, Mrs Drake.” I look at James. “James, I believe
we may have a training issue in this area, in reception. Please can you look
into it for me? We need to address private and personal conversations taking
place in earshot of our – my – guests. Can I leave that with you to sort?” I
smile at Monica again. Oh yes, she knows her card’s marked.

He looks at his reception team, frowning, and then again at
me. “Sure, I’ll get it organised.” He sounds confused.

I smile at the girls again and lean towards Monica. I speak
very quietly, nearly whispering at the shocked young woman. “If I hear anything
like that again, lady, you’ll need to convince me to let you keep your job.
Understand?” I don’t wait for her to answer and turn. Walking away, James
catches me up very quickly after a few more quiet words with the girls.
Hopefully that’s put
her
in her place, little madam.

 He points out the restaurant and various other places that
are quite apparent. I let him carry on his guided tour, he’s clearly done these
tours in the past and has his own set route.

After he’s shown me a couple of guest rooms, a standard room
and an executive suite, we make our way to the bar where he orders tea. He asks
me a little about myself, my background. I tell him about my relationship with
Maggie, or lack of it, but keep my recent past to myself. There’s no need for
him to know about Lewis and what I’ve run away from, or even that Maggie was my
real mother.  I tell him about Anna and our relocating to London, moving into
what was Maggie’s house. I can’t call it Maggie’s
home
because she apparently
rented it out, it’s only by sheer good luck that when we moved it was empty
with no new tenants scheduled. I tell him about Anna’s plans for university and
really that, at this point, I’m still feeling my feet, that I want to keep
myself occupied and have decided that, after being here today, I would like to
make the hotel my main focus. Everything else in the portfolio that I’ve
inherited seems to take care of itself, and the night club is only fifty per
cent owned by me, the other shareholder running the place on a daily basis.

We sit and chat. James gives a little away about himself,
keeping it very professional, however, I’ve worked out that he’s single, which
for the life of me I cannot fathom, but then with an apparent stream of young
and willing girls, why would he want to settle down? He must be incredibly
experienced. He probably puts my sexual experience into the shade, no, forget
the shade, into the bloody freezer – I still scratch my head over how we made
Anna!

As he reaches for his coffee he looks up. “What was that
with reception?” I think he’s been desperate to ask all morning.

“Oh, nothing, I just overheard some inappropriate
conversation, anyone could have heard it.” I’m straight out with it, no use in
beating around the bush, telling him exactly what I’ve heard.

“Oh.” He sounds shocked. “I’ll have a chat with them.” 

“You should,” I suggest. “They need to keep their personal
chatter just that, personal.”

Our initial meeting progresses well following the frosty
start. James asks if I noticed the building works at the rear of the hotel when
I arrived, which I did – it really can’t be missed, the massive orangery that’s
being built. He tells me that the plans were all in place prior to Maggie
becoming so ill that she had to move into the hospice and that she instructed
the contractors to start work before she backed away from everything. He tells
me that my “aunt” was conscious of the lack of leisure facilities at the hotel
and the work currently going on is for a small swimming pool, sauna, Jacuzzi
and steam room, and that it should be finished within the next week or two.
There are also eight rooms that are being redecorated, slightly different to
the rest of the suites here, which are all furnished with sumptuous antique and
reproduction antique furniture. The eight suites that are currently being
remodelled are to be neutral and modern, with clean lines and less of what
James terms as “clutter”.

As I sit in front of this devastatingly handsome man, I
reassure him again that I have no intention of taking over from him, or doing
anything
with the hotel. I explain that I will not be stepping on any toes and that he
should carry on as normal. Yes, I’ll be visiting to see how things work and
spending some time here but, as the business has only just come into my
possession and I know nothing of the hotel industry, I may just shadow him. He
looks slightly concerned, but not overly. I think the main problem for James is
that I will prevent the daily shagging that I understand takes place.

At the end of our meeting I’ve decided I like him, a lot,
and like those receptionists were saying, I would not turn him down if
propositioned – better still, he’s not taken. But he must be at least ten years
younger than me, it wouldn’t go anywhere, the thoughts and desires are just in
my head and anyway, he’d probably run a mile if he saw my hideous back.

 He walks me to my car, placing his palm in the small of my
back.
Oh, that’s so nice
. Part of me says that I should move away from
the closeness but the invasion of my personal space is not unwelcome, in fact,
his touch sends little shivers through me. Despite my years of celibacy I still
feel, still want to be touched, to be loved… In fact, it’s what I crave.

We arrive at my car. “R8, nice,” he says, looking longingly
at the white convertible. “Is it new?”

I run my hand over the soft top. “It certainly is. It’s the
only thing I’ve bought since I inherited. I had to buy a new car, my old one
died the moment we pulled up at Maggie’s house.” I laugh. He is so much taller
than me and I find myself looking up at him. He’s so close, so very close, I
can smell him – masculine, but fresh and clean. I sigh. I need to go. I need to
get away from him and quickly, but he seems hell bent on keeping me here.

He smiles, laughing. God, that smile! “Really, you mean you
haven’t been shopping yet, girly shopping?”

It’s clear that he has no idea of my background, where I’ve
come from and what I’m used to, because shopping has never been high on my
agenda, not shopping for me, anyway.

“Just a few essentials. What I stand here in is what I
packed when I left my husband – sorry, ex.” I look down, not wanting to discuss
the past any further.

He raises an eyebrow. I think he’s surprised that I haven’t
spent all of my time shopping since I came to London.

I eventually manage to open my car and slide into the
driver’s seat. I’m hot and flustered, feeling in need of a cold shower. “I’ll
see you, James. I’ll probably pop by tomorrow. I’d like to start meeting some
of the other teams, the other staff.” I hold the door ajar, looking up at him.

“Look forward to it, Mrs Drake,” he says as I slide into the
driver’s seat. He closes the door for me and stands in the car park, waving as
I pull away.

That was our first meeting and since then we’ve met several
times in the last few weeks. I enjoy working closely with the super sexy James,
the Bossman. He’s filled me in on the hotel, how it functions and runs on a
day-to-day basis. I’ve been introduced to a number of staff. Work has been
completed on the rooms and suites that were being remodelled and the leisure
facilities are now open. I think we both enjoy working with each other, I
certainly enjoy his company and I think he enjoys mine too.

I don’t intend to make any other changes other than the
one’s that Maggie had already begun, everything is absolutely fine. The hotel
is more or less full all of the time, which is good, and there are no real
concerns.

Anna is still awaiting her A Level results, which are due
incredibly soon. She’s keeping herself busy with this and that, mainly shopping
and finding ways to spend money, isn’t that the case with all teenagers?

She’s been to the hotel and thinks it’s beautiful, even more
so when she knows that this place partly pays for her spending sprees! She loves
it and has asked if she can stay here with Katie, her best friend from school,
for a couple of nights. Of course she can, I’ve told her – after all, one day
it will be hers. She’s so taken with the place that she’s been talking to one
or two of the universities about a change of course and looking at something to
do with hospitality or hotel management. I don’t know how I feel about that,
after all, when you
own
the hotel you don’t need to impress yourself
with the right degree!

I’ve continued to learn about business in general. Yes, lots
and lots of learning has taken place with the help of James, who seems to know
everything there is to know about the hospitality and leisure industry, but
I’ve also spent time with Gerald, my accountant and the guy who has dealt with
all of Maggie’s business interests, monetary wise, for years – all of them
except Henry’s, the night club, which I have little to do with apart from
receiving the monthly profit share. I’ve still not got around to meeting all of
the other people that were associated with Maggie, but bit by bit we’re getting
there.

Since I’ve left Lewis and moved on
I’m starting to feel liberated, I really, really am. Sometimes I could sit and
cry, just thinking about the shit twenty-two years I wasted living with that
fat bastard – he could grind me down and damage me, physically and emotionally,
but he couldn’t break me completely. From time to time my heart feels heavy and
broken, yet it still works, functioning as well as it ever did physically. It
gives me life and the drive to move forward, away from the hellish time with
Lewis and onto new things, new ventures and a new life. Now it’s my time,
although it is an uphill struggle, and I think it will be for a while, to get
over what was, to be fair, a trauma. But little by little the old Alex, the
Alex from over twenty-odd years ago, is coming back!

I’m enjoying my newly found freedom, spending so much more
time than I planned to at the hotel, if only to be in the company of my sexy
General Manager. He’s still the Bossman and I find I have to reassure him of
this each time we meet.

They say that no-one is indispensable, well, at this moment
in time he is, he’s irreplaceable and has been such a great help. I have no
idea where Maggie found him, he says that Maggie wasn’t really into hotel
management and he doesn’t know how she came to be the sole owner of Reid’s, but
she appreciated how popular and profitable this place could be. I have no idea
how it came to be hers either, all I was ever told was that she was a
successful businesswoman. I knew she had the hotel but I knew nothing of her
other investments and partnerships until that day, months ago, when I met the
solicitor for the first time and the one question that pops into my head daily
is, “Where did she get the cash from?”

Today I am meeting with the “Bossman” on a formal basis,
rather than just rocking up and watching him work. There are some bits and
pieces he needs my signature on and, as he knows that I like to be kept up to
date, it seems sensible to meet and go through what needs doing.

It’s 9.30 a.m., holy shit, I’m supposed to be meeting James
at the hotel at 10.30 a.m., I’ve got to cross London in an hour. I have no idea
how I’ve managed to run late, I don’t do late, I can’t stand it!

I grab my handbag and slip on my comfortable flat pumps,
make sure I have my phone, and I shout upstairs to Anna as I leave home.

“Anna! Back later, darling, ring me if you want me and don’t
forget to speak with your dad. Make sure he knows that you don’t want to go and
see him this weekend. Anna, Anna!” I yell, infuriated that she doesn’t answer
me straightaway.

“Okay, Mum, don’t stress,” she shouts back at me from her
room, above the strains of
Hall of Fame
together with the clattering and
banging as she rearranges her room for the tenth time since we moved in! 

I exit through my newly painted front door, black. I love
black shiny front doors, they look so luscious. I can’t help but stroke it, so
tactile, and make my way down the few wide steps to my Audi. Lewis, the
bastard, positively drooled over it when I took Anna to what used to be
our
home last weekend. He kept banging on about waiting lists for cars “
like
that
” and wanted to know how I got it so quickly. I just smiled at his
alcohol-induced red face and said it was amazing what you can do when you offer
the dealership an extra few thousand to get a quick delivery! I felt so smug.
Screw
him, it was so satisfying watching him as we pulled up in my new beast of a
car.

Of course, he’s initially agreed to his settlement, he
doesn’t know the extent of my inheritance but must have worked out that it’s
substantial. I’ve told Anna not to give too much away. Anyway, so far I love my
new life, although I’m still unsure about my new home. I’m still learning my
way around London, thank God for sat-nav and cabs, otherwise I’d get lost every
time I went out!  Not that I go out in the car that much and have taken to
using cabs a hell of a lot more because I detest driving around London.

I love the fact that when I grocery shop I don’t have to
worry about the bill, that if I want or need something I can have it, but I’m
careful with the money. I think that’s one thing that budgeting over the years
has taught me and is embedded, I suppose! I used to dread spending more than
Lewis had allowed me, having to justify the rising cost of food.

I sit in the driving seat and start the powerful engine.
Pulling away, I gingerly make my way through the heavy London traffic and into
the private car park of my hotel. Parking carefully, I grab my things and lock
the car before walking through the back door of the huge building, passing the
completed orangery as I go. Carpets in the rear of the building have all been
replaced as a result of the new leisure facilities and pool; the newly
decorated walls look great and it still smells new, that lovely smell that
comes from freshly decorated rooms, the colour scheme following through from
the main foyer.

I head for the door marked
Staff Only
, waving a
“hello” to Roger as I do. I climb the four flights of stairs, which don’t
present so much of a problem now that I’m used to them, and head down the
corridor straight to the door marked
General Manager
. I tap the door
lightly before walking in to find James sat behind his desk, pawing over
paperwork.

 “Morning, Alex.” He gives me that killer smile. He’s
delightful to look at, I’ll never tire of watching him, in fact I could spend
my day just sitting and watching him work. His dark
come to bed
eyes
make me feel weak every time I see him and that physique is just exceptional –
he clearly works out, although I have no idea when and where. I can only
imagine what lurks beneath that crisp white shirt, he always wears white shirts
with double cuffs, but he truly does look amazing in them and they “do it” for
me! Every time I see him I can just imagine that well-developed six pack and a
perfect V down towards his…
Alex, pull yourself together, woman!

He keeps his designer stubble well groomed. He must be a
tailor’s dream, looking phenomenal in whatever he’s wearing. I still can’t
believe that he’s single, it doesn’t make sense! Maybe he just doesn’t do
commitment? I haven’t seen any girls come up here since that first day. He must
see them elsewhere now that I’m here.

“How are you today?” He shuffles his papers. His deep voice
is soft and soothing. I can just imagine the pillow talk with him, it’s enough
to have any woman turn to heaps of jelly. It makes me feel all warm inside
every time he opens that beautiful mouth of his, probably from years of being
denied any form of intimate contact, the fault of my bastard of a husband. Just
recently I’ve craved any sexual attention possible, maybe I’m having a mid-life
crisis?
For heaven’s sake, Alex, snap out of it
, I say to myself,
this
is business – no cavorting with the staff
.

Maybe with my pent-up sexual tension and possibly having
some sort of crisis I shouldn’t be hanging around someone like James, I’m like
a time bomb! Yes, I know I’m 42, 43 in September, but I’m a very young 42 –
hell, it isn’t really old anyway, is it? But feeling the way I do is surprising
given the rough time I’ve had, why shouldn’t I have a bit of fun? Mind you,
I’ll have to dump the passion-killer knickers for something a bit more… more
provocative before I start looking for someone to share intimate moments with.
Listen to me, anyone would think I was some sort of sex kitten, not a recently
separated mum!

“I’m fine, James, everything looks good downstairs. I take
it there aren’t any issues, or if there have been I’m assuming that you’ve
sorted them in your normal efficient way.” I smile at him, I really don’t know
why I’m here, other than to watch my General Manager work, yes, that’s the real
reason!

He’s looking down at his paperwork. His laptop is out and
he’s flicking between what’s printed on the paper and keying in some
information at the same time, the concentration evident on his face.

“Fuck!” He looks at one of the papers and then at me.
“Sorry,” he mutters.

“Problem?” I fiddle with a pen on his desk, looking at his
papers, so tidy.

He frowns and curses whilst he re-enters the figures. “No,
just lost some of the data I’d already keyed in.”

“Is there anything I can help with?” I reach for some of the
papers he has moved to one side, papers I wrongly assumed he had finished with.
As I reach to pick them up he moves to pick them up again, and our hands touch.
Hell! My nether regions are… ooh. I pull my hands away quickly and look
directly at James, I’m sure he thinks I’m a prude.

“Sorry.” I play with a paperclip. Turning away, I ask, “Do
you want a drink?”

He smiles back at me, holding my gaze for a moment. “Please,
coffee, black, and no sugar.”

Feeling ruffled, I move to the small unit in the corner of
his office, where he has a kettle and some mugs and a small fridge. I make him
a coffee and myself a cup of tea, taking it back to his desk.

“I think this is nearly finished.” He turns the final piece
of paper and keys the information into the computer. 

I look over his shoulder. It looks like payroll. “Is that
sent off to the accountants?” I ask, glancing down at the list of names and
numbers.

“Yes, it’s done every month. All the waiting staff, kitchen
help, cleaners and housekeeping staff have to clock in and out. They’re paid
hourly, I just have to let the accountants know how many hours they’ve each
worked.” He stacks his papers together and starts to file them away.

“Management are salaried?” I ask, something that I’ve not
yet discussed, though I suppose I should have done a while ago.

“Yes, you’ve got it,” he mumbles as he takes the folder to
an old green filing cabinet.

I stand behind him sipping my hot tea. “So do you review the
management salaries, James?” 

“Yes, every year.” He gathers his papers, arranging them
neatly and tapping the stack.

“And who does yours?” I ask. Presumably it would have been
Maggie, although he’s not mentioned pay, his or anyone else’s, since I first
met him.

He smiles at me. “Well, Maggie used to, so I suppose it will
be you now.”

I take another drink of my tea. “And pay reviews are done
when?”

“They were done about four months ago.” His head down,
tidying his desk as he chats.

“So, you haven’t had a pay increase this year?” I look
directly at him. He doesn’t reply and just looks at me. “James, have you had a
pay review this year?” I ask again firmly.

He stands. “Shall we go for lunch?” Clearly changing the
subject, not wanting to discuss his pay.

I decide to leave it for the time being, but it’s something
I want to discuss with him, something that
has
to be discussed. “Umm.  I
am hungry. I can’t believe I haven’t eaten in the restaurant yet, shall we try
it? It won’t be full at this time of day, will it?” I muse as I continue to sip
at my hot tea, watching the Bossman as he finishes tidying his papers.

“No, I’m sure they’ll find the owner somewhere to sit!” he
mumbles, still fiddling with the papers.

I leave my half drunk tea on his desk and collect my bag
before starting to walk out of James’s office, aware that he’s
still
tidying
the last few papers and making sure everything is super organised before he
leaves.

I wait impatiently in the doorway, watching him as he sorts
himself out and takes a slurp of coffee.

“Give me a second,” he says as he finalises the paper
shuffling and then walks around his desk taking long strides out of the office.
He looks very edible in his snug-fitting clothes, finished off with shiny black
Chelsea boots. His boots just look like the ones that my dad used to wear,
whoa, that brings back memories, good memories. I smile to myself, thinking
about the past and my dad.

He shuts his office door behind him. “Can I show you one of
the new suites before we eat? The artwork arrived yesterday, I don’t think
you’ve seen it complete.” 

“Okay, Bossman – lead on!” I wave my hand, indicating that
he should go first and am rewarded with a raised eyebrow at me as he walks down
the corridor towards the staff staircase.

We descend the stairs to the first floor and I follow him to
the far end of the corridor, to one of the newly remodelled suites. He opens
the door of the room and we wander into the most sumptuous surroundings. One
wall is papered with stunning silver paper with an intricate black pattern, the
other three walls are a very dark silvery grey, with a metallic hint that
glimmers in the subtle down lighting. The room is dominated by a large light
oak four poster, the uprights of the bed are completely plain, no intricate
carvings, just clean lines and the headboard section is constructed of several
gothic-style arches that interlink with each other. James points out the pictures
that have been hung; they’re all photographs of random buildings around London
– all of them black and white stretched canvas, no picture frames in here – and
they finish the room off beautifully.

I look around the beautiful, modern suite. “It’s great, James,
really, really… beautiful. How much do we charge for this suite?”

“This one and the other ones the same size as this are
between £700 and £1500 a night. Depends on the day of the week and public
holidays, that sort of thing.” He smiles.

“And you said we’re always full, right?” I confirm a
conversation we had a few weeks ago about bookings and room availability.

“Mostly. There are generally a few rooms free, we’re
ninety-five per cent full most nights.” He smiles again as he wanders around
the room, checking everything’s in order. He strikes me as a bit of a
perfectionist, not that it’s bad to be one.

I pinch myself again as I do daily, it doesn’t seem real, I
don’t expect it ever will.