Aloha Hideaway Inn by Elana Johnson

Author:Elana Johnson [Johnson, Elana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AEJ Creative Works

Chapter Twelve

Fisher entered Owen’s office to find it empty. Strange. The man seemed to work eighteen-hour days, even with his two teens at home. Fisher had told him countless times to go home at a decent hour, but there always seemed to be some emergency keeping him at the hotel.

Fisher sat in the chair across from Owen’s desk to wait. He was a bit early for their Monday morning meeting, and normally Fisher would’ve tried to skip it. But Stacey had seemed pretty nervous about the storm warning, and Fisher didn’t like that he didn’t even know about it.

He had the best electronics and WiFi money could buy, and he’d looked up the forecast last night after dropping Stacey back at Aloha Hideaway.

His thoughts scattered as the memory of kissing her stole through his mind. She’d tasted like something salty and something sweet, and he craved the flavor of her mouth right now. They’d agreed he could come to dinner at her bed and breakfast that night, as Mondays were usually slow. She was booked, but she’d already confirmed that morning that only twelve guests had committed to dinner that night.

He could still feel the gentle press of her body against his chest. The careful way she ran her fingernails through his hair—what little he had. He shivered in Owen’s office the same way he had in the parking lot at Aloha Hideaway.

“Fisher.”

Fisher snapped his eyes open as heat rushed into his face. Owen closed the door behind him, barely glancing at Fisher. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Oh, I’m early.” Fisher cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Owen couldn’t know what Fisher was thinking, but he still felt like he’d been caught making out with his girlfriend.

Girlfriend.

The word had a nice ring to it. He definitely hadn’t had one of those in a while, and he wondered if Stacey would mind the label.

Owen sat behind his desk and slid a folder across it. “New contracts with Your Ride we need to sign. The bagel employees want a raise. Cost analysis is in there. I’ve got grounds and maintenance working to secure everything possible before the storm tomorrow, and—”

“So we are taking the storm seriously.” Fisher tapped the folder as if he could read the documents inside by quick osmosis.

“Of course,” Owen said. “You saw the report? It’s a tropical storm coming within a few miles of land. The winds are expected to be up to sixty miles per hour—I’ve assigned you a lower room in which to stay tonight and through Wednesday. The top of the building will sway considerably.”

Alarm flowed through Fisher. “I hadn’t even thought of that. Have we moved the guests?”

“As low as we can,” Owen assured him. “But we’re still quite full, and not everyone can be below the tenth floor.” He clicked on his computer to wake it. “But the pools will be closed. Anything that can be boarded will be. We’ve brought in two extra trucks of food and supplies in case people are stuck here after the storm.

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