Excerpt
Waiting for the elevator, I pulled out my phone to check for messages. There was a message from the man coming to tune my piano. He was scheduled to come at two, but had to cancel because of a family emergency. My father bought the baby grand when I was sixteen and paid for me to take lessons. I still played every now and then, and I usually had it tuned three times a year.
There was a text from my good friend, Lee. We'd known each other since junior high and he was the first real friend I made when we moved there. Lee, his wife, Kate, and I usually fished together twice a month. I took up the hobby right after Papa died and grew to love it. It was a time to relax and forget about the world, though Kate always spent a bit of it grilling me on my social life and begging me to let her set me up with one of her friends. I always said the same thing–I would think about it. Lee's text was a reminder for fishing on Saturday.
As I started to text a reply, the elevator doors opened.
And I saw her.
She was wearing one of the hotel housekeeping uniforms. Tall and leggy with platinum blond hair tied back in a ponytail, sea-green eyes, and a perfect face and form, the woman was absolutely lovely. She smiled and I smiled back, glancing at her name tag as I entered the elevator. She must have been a recent hire because I'd never seen her before. Her hands rested on the handle of one of the smaller cleaning carts, her nails neatly manicured.
“How are you, Suzanne?” I asked. Judging by the look on her face, my greeting had taken her by surprise. Her quick smile tuned into a wide grin that was completely adorable.
“I'm great, how are you?”
“I am well, thank you.”
We stood silently looking at each other for a moment. “Are you enjoying working here?”
She gave me a peculiar look and it dawned on me that she had no idea who I was and probably found it a strange question.
“Yes. It's a great job, for now.”
“Oh? Is this a temporary position for you?”
“Until I finish school.”
“What are you . . .” I paused as the elevator door opened and Sylvia, one of the front desk clerks–and my good friend–entered. She was also a good friend of Papa's.
“How are you today, Angelo?”
“I'm good.”
“So you've met our Suzanne, have you?”
“Only just. She told me she is trying to finish school and I was about to ask her what she is majoring in.”
Suzanne smiled again. “Fashion designing.”
“You must be a creative person.”
When she blushed, Sylvia said, “She comes up with amazing designs. You should have seen the outfit she had on when she came in to interview for the job. It was beautiful.” To Suzanne she said, “Angelo here is the best owner ever. Apart from his father, I have never worked for a better person.”
The young woman's eyes widened just as the doors opened to the lobby. We exited the elevator.
“You're the owner?” she softly gasped. “No wonder you asked . . . I do enjoy my job, sir.”
I chuckled at her obvious embarrassment. “I know you do. And call me Angelo.”
“It was good to meet you,” she said, hurrying away with her cart before I could respond.
Waiting for the elevator, I pulled out my phone to check for messages. There was a message from the man coming to tune my piano. He was scheduled to come at two, but had to cancel because of a family emergency. My father bought the baby grand when I was sixteen and paid for me to take lessons. I still played every now and then, and I usually had it tuned three times a year.
There was a text from my good friend, Lee. We'd known each other since junior high and he was the first real friend I made when we moved there. Lee, his wife, Kate, and I usually fished together twice a month. I took up the hobby right after Papa died and grew to love it. It was a time to relax and forget about the world, though Kate always spent a bit of it grilling me on my social life and begging me to let her set me up with one of her friends. I always said the same thing–I would think about it. Lee's text was a reminder for fishing on Saturday.
As I started to text a reply, the elevator doors opened.
And I saw her.
She was wearing one of the hotel housekeeping uniforms. Tall and leggy with platinum blond hair tied back in a ponytail, sea-green eyes, and a perfect face and form, the woman was absolutely lovely. She smiled and I smiled back, glancing at her name tag as I entered the elevator. She must have been a recent hire because I'd never seen her before. Her hands rested on the handle of one of the smaller cleaning carts, her nails neatly manicured.
“How are you, Suzanne?” I asked. Judging by the look on her face, my greeting had taken her by surprise. Her quick smile tuned into a wide grin that was completely adorable.
“I'm great, how are you?”
“I am well, thank you.”
We stood silently looking at each other for a moment. “Are you enjoying working here?”
She gave me a peculiar look and it dawned on me that she had no idea who I was and probably found it a strange question.
“Yes. It's a great job, for now.”
“Oh? Is this a temporary position for you?”
“Until I finish school.”
“What are you . . .” I paused as the elevator door opened and Sylvia, one of the front desk clerks–and my good friend–entered. She was also a good friend of Papa's.
“How are you today, Angelo?”
“I'm good.”
“So you've met our Suzanne, have you?”
“Only just. She told me she is trying to finish school and I was about to ask her what she is majoring in.”
Suzanne smiled again. “Fashion designing.”
“You must be a creative person.”
When she blushed, Sylvia said, “She comes up with amazing designs. You should have seen the outfit she had on when she came in to interview for the job. It was beautiful.” To Suzanne she said, “Angelo here is the best owner ever. Apart from his father, I have never worked for a better person.”
The young woman's eyes widened just as the doors opened to the lobby. We exited the elevator.
“You're the owner?” she softly gasped. “No wonder you asked . . . I do enjoy my job, sir.”
I chuckled at her obvious embarrassment. “I know you do. And call me Angelo.”
“It was good to meet you,” she said, hurrying away with her cart before I could respond.
