Heated Rivalry by Patricia Sargeant

Author:Patricia Sargeant
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2011-11-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

“Have you worked for many resorts?” Steven studied the general manager leading the tour of the three fitness rooms. His name was Trent Fischer, and he looked fresh out of college. How much experience could he have running a mid-sized, high-end resort?

“No, but I’ve had summer jobs in a couple of hotels.” The tall, thin blond gave him a huge smile. His brown eyes fixated on Steven as though he expected the former NBA star to produce a basketball from thin air and perform tricks.

Trent unlocked the first fitness room. He entered and turned on the light, illuminating the facility’s cramped confines. Steven surveyed the cardio room. It looked like the standard fitness center, one you could find in any business motel. And it wasn’t much bigger than his guest suite. Maybe Valerie was right. Maybe Traci would be better off promoting the spa’s luxury accommodations over its unimpressive fitness facilities.

Valerie paused beside him. “Trent, were these hotels where you worked independents or chains?”

As he waited for the young man’s answer, Steven walked toward the exercise equipment. There were only fifteen machines—five each of treadmills, stair climbers and stationary bikes. Traci must not have expected many guests would use this room.

“I’ve worked for a couple of small independents and one large chain, but none were quite like this.” The younger man shrugged. The muscles under his short-sleeved jersey flexed. He apparently worked out, but at a real gym.

Steven walked between the equipment, which stood in three rows before a mirrored wall. Bikes were in the front, treadmills in the middle and stair climbers brought up the rear. He looked from one to the other of the mounted television sets, which hung from the two front corners of the ceiling. Water fountains braced a couple of walls. A vending machine sat tucked beside the door. It sold water and diet soft drinks.

Steven had seen enough of this room. He rejoined Valerie, who waited with Trent. “What did you do at these other hotels?”

Trent rolled back and forth on his feet. His hands were buried in the pockets of his red sweatpants. “This and that. Bellhop. Busboy.”

Between Trent and Traci, there wasn’t enough experience to run a lemonade stand, much less a health spa resort. Steven’s brows knitted as he calculated the disaster in the making. “You’ve worked your way up the corporate ladder, from summer bellhop to full-time manager.”

Trent laughed his enthusiasm. “Yes, I guess you could say that, Mr. Crennell.”

Steven relaxed his brow. “I’ve asked you to call me Steve.”

Trent shook his head emphatically as he led Valerie and Steven from the room. “No, Mr. Crennell. It’s an honor to meet you, sir, and I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I’d be more comfortable if you’d call me Steve. Mr. Crennell is my father.”

Steven looked around as they walked across the resort, passing the long, walnut-wood concierge desk. His stomach groused as he paused outside the resort’s restaurant. The apple he’d grabbed from his suite’s fruit bowl hadn’t lasted long.

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