Pleasing Mr. Parker

MY FIRST WEEK AT The Songbird passes by in a blur. I love it. The spa therapists are an amazing team who all help one another and strive for excellent client satisfaction. The day-to-day appointments and bookings run like a well-oiled machine, leaving me time to design a new treatment menu, and come up with some new special packages. The other hotel staff I’ve met so far are all warm and welcoming. And living in Manhattan and waking up to the view of Central Park is like being on a movie set every day.

I love it.

Every. Single. Thing. About. It.

“Maria?”

Except one.

“Good morning, Mr. Parker.” I lift my head from my position behind the spa reception desk and lock eyes with him. It’s early and the staff members aren’t here yet. I wanted to come in and get a head start on preparing for the new weekly team meetings I’ve implemented.

“Griffin,” he says curtly.

I give him a tight smile. It feels strange calling him Griffin. Too familiar, like we should be friends. And we are definitely not friends. He doesn’t even seem happy about me calling him by his first name, but this is the second time he has corrected me, so I really should use it.

“Griffin,” I repeat.

“You’re meeting Todd from the suppliers today,” he states, his jaw ticking as his blue eyes assess me with their usual coldness.

Jerk.

I straighten my spine. I didn’t inform him about the lunch with Todd I have scheduled today. I shouldn’t have to, and he knows it. He’s obviously checked my schedule. Once Todd and I have agreed on the next step about what to do over the grower in The Bahamas and the discrepancies, then I will give Griffin a full report. Exactly the process things should follow with me being Spa Manager.

“I am.” I smile again, despite him not deserving it.

I’ve hardly seen him this week, which has been a blessing. Because each time I do, his score on the jerk scale rises. I don’t know what it is about me that makes him so downright grumpy. He looks like he’s swallowed something sour whenever he addresses me, which is a shame, as he is a handsome man. Like ridiculously tall, dark, and handsome, handsome. He looks so much better when he’s smiling. And I know he can do it, because I see it every time he talks to my spa team, or Harley, or Earl. When he talks to any other person.

Anyone that isn’t me.

If I didn’t love this place so much, then I could tell him to shove his job up his overpriced designer suit-clad ass. But I’m not a quitter. And I’m not about to start because of Griffin Parker.

“Where?” he growls, making the word sound like an accusation. Of what, though, I’m not sure.

I want to roll my eyes at his complete lack of manners. How the hell I thought he was charming at our first meeting in Hope Cove is a mystery now. Maybe it was all an elaborate act to get me to accept his offer.

I stare back at him as he presses his lips together.

You’ve got perfect white teeth that dazzle people when you smile. Use them!

“Greenhams,” I answer finally, not wanting to give him anything more.

He nods once, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets. “Excellent. Well, I look forward to a full update.”

“Of course.” My shoulders relax as I turn my attention back to my notes on the desk.

“This afternoon,” he adds. “Two o’clock. In my office.”

I snap my gaze up and back onto him, my fingers tingling at their tips with the overwhelming urge to strike out and poke him in his crystal eyes.

But he’s not worth the trouble of ruining a perfectly beautiful manicure.

“Absolutely!” I smile brightly with fake enthusiasm.

“Are you… are you being disturbed less?” His voice softens, and for a moment, I consider he may actually care about my answer.

But despite the soundproofing being a giant improvement, I’m still aware of the fact he’s had visitors to his apartment every night this week. Now it’s muffled bangs and the occasional high-pitched scream if he’s doing something she really likes. They never stay overnight, luckily. At least I can guarantee that by midnight the latest Cinderella will have departed the ball—or departed his balls. And from who I’ve seen leaving, they all look the same.

He must have a thing for blondes.

I hold the fake smile on my face as my cheeks ache. “Yes, thank you.”

“Good.” He smiles the first genuine smile at me he has in days. “I’m pleased to hear it.” He turns to leave, but then hovers at the door. “Maria?”

Just hurry up and go. Please.

“Yes?”

“Make sure you put lunch on your company account, won’t you? I don’t want you to spend your own money. Not if it’s a working lunch.” His eyes hold mine long enough for a tiny flicker of heat to spark in my stomach at his words.

“I will. Thank you.”

I hold the puzzled look off my face until he strides out of the door, taking his fresh rain-cleansed air scent with him.

Why did he emphasize the words working lunch? Like I would ever use the company card for anything non-business related. Is that what he was suggesting? That must be what this weird feeling in my stomach is—anger at his insinuation. Only, I think he meant it sincerely. And if he did, then that spark is something else entirely. Because him being concerned that I may use my own money when I shouldn’t have to means something to me.

It means everything.

“Maria, it’s so great to see you in person again.” Todd stands from his seat in Greenhams restaurant as I approach and places his hand on the small of my back. I barely have time to take in the relaxed coastal-themed décor before he leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

“Oh, yes, you too.” I smile politely as he pulls my chair out for me.

Maybe a week of phone calls and emails about business matters has now moved us to the ‘kiss greeting’ stage in his mind, rather than the handshake I would have offered. Either way, we are here to talk about work, so should get on with it.

“I thought we could begin with—”

“You look beautiful.” He grins at me as his eyes skim over my olive-green silk blouse.

Or maybe not get straight on with it.

I sigh internally, reaching down into my bag to retrieve some costing reports. I really don’t want to seem rude, but I have a ton of work to be getting on with when I get back, so I would rather cut the pleasantries. However, he is representing the supply company who has worked with The Songbird for several years. So I should at least be able to engage in some light non-business talk to maintain a good working relationship. Besides, he’s just being friendly. My run-in with Griffin this morning has just set me on edge, that’s all.

“Thank you,” I reply, injecting more warmth into my tone.

“How are you settling into life in the city?”

I place the reports on the table. His eager face has guilt gnawing in my stomach as a result of my rudeness.

I soften my shoulders, lifting my eyes to his.

“Good, thank you, Todd. Great, actually. It’s been a whirlwind first week, so I haven’t explored much yet. But I’m going to rectify that this weekend.”

“That’s great.” He smiles. “I know some places you shouldn’t miss if you need a tour guide?”

“Oh.” I smile politely. “That’s really kind of you, but Harley has already made plans for us. She has a whole itinerary set up.”

“Ah, Mr. Parker’s PA?”

“Yes.”

Todd nods in understanding. “Well, I hope you have a great time.” He grins as a server approaches and takes our orders. “Shall we get started, then?” He gestures to the reports on the table.

We spend the rest of lunch with our heads bowed together over the reports, discussing ingredient costs and new products that will work well with the signature fragrance blend I’ve made. It’s an essential oil blend that I want to add to the products at formulation stage, so that each product used in The Songbird holds the signature fragrance, which will be entirely exclusive. I did the same thing at my spa in Hope Cove. But where that scent was beachy and light, this one will be sultry and darker to fit the urban setting. It’s something Mr. Parker was extremely insistent upon me developing when I accepted the job. Now I understand why. If their previous signature formulations went missing, like Harley told me about, then he will want new ones, which his competitors can’t replicate.

“I really like these ideas, Maria. It’s definitely something we can do.” Todd looks up and smiles at me as the server heads over with the bill. He hands her his card and pays without a second’s thought, before turning back to me.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” I smile as Todd pulls my chair back for me, and I stand.

He puts his navy suit blazer back on, his broad chest filling out his crisp white shirt.

“It was so good to see you. I’ll call you next week and we can set up that meeting with the grower. I think in-person will work best, don’t you?” he asks.

“Yes, I think you’re right.”

I’m too busy mentally considering the logistics of booking my first work trip to the Bahamas to notice Todd leaning close.

He brushes his lips against my cheek.

“It was a pleasure, Maria,” he says softly into my ear before kissing my cheek.

I clear my throat, taking a step back and subtly placing more distance between us.

“Yes, it was lovely. Thank you for lunch.”

Todd smiles at me. “Maybe we can do it again? Outside of work?” He raises an eyebrow in question.

He’s handsome, there’s no denying that. His blond hair, and easy, big bright smile make him the polar opposite of someone else—Griffin. God, why am I even thinking of him? He’s rude and abrasive. Frankly, if I’d known what I was letting myself in for coming to work with him, I might have given it more thought.

I open my mouth to respond to Todd, but my words die in my throat.

It’s like thinking about him has conjured him up, as if by magic.

I stare back at the pair of cool blue eyes assessing me from a table across the restaurant.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise and my body tenses at the unwelcome intrusion. His lunch date seems unaware that his focus is not on her and is instead burning a hole right through me as he glowers over at me.

Really? Of all the places to go for lunch. I know for sure I told him I was coming here. It’s just another example of his controlling micro-management. I’m surprised he refrained himself from coming over to join us, so he could make sure not to miss a word.

This is not what I agreed to when I took this role.

It’s time he and I had words.

Stupid, annoying, control-freak Griffin Parker.

What the hell is his problem?