Big Daddy Sinatra: There Was a Ruthless Man (The Sinatras of Jericho County Book 1) (14 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Two Days Later

“We
need to give her a chance,” Megan Townsend, the bookkeeper, said as she put
another batch of files in the cabinet.
 
She
was a slight woman in her twenties, a little over five-feet-two, with stringy
blond highlights and big brown eyes.
 

“That’s
easy for you to say,” Beatrice replied as she typed in the last sentences of
her status report.
 
“You’re the
bookkeeper.
 
Your job isn’t on the line.”

“Who
says your job in on the line?”

Beatrice
looked at the younger woman as if she had to be kidding.
 
“He’s bringing in an executive general
manager, Meg.
 
A GM.
 
I’ve been the manager here since before he
even took over ownership of this place!
 
Why would he need an executive manager when he already has me, if it’s
not to replace me?”

“I
thought you were the supervisor.”

“Supervisor.
 
Manager.
 
What’s the difference?”

Megan
knew the difference, and she suspected Beatrice did too, but to keep the peace
she kept on filing.

The
door to the office opened.
 
“Knock-knock,” a voice said as the door opened.
 
Both ladies looked up.
 
It was Paige Springer.

“Miss
Paige,” Megan said, “what are you doing here?”

Paige
and Beatrice exchanged a glance.
 
“Give
us a few minutes, Meg,” Beatrice said.

Megan
didn’t like it.
 
She had files to
review.
 
But she knew she didn’t have a
choice.
 
She left the room.

Paige
sat down in front of the desk.
 
“Has she
arrived yet?”

“I
told you eleven.
 
She’ll be here shortly.”

Paige
crossed her long legs.
  
“Tell me all you
know.
 
Who is she again?”

“Jenay
Franklin,” Beatrice said.
 
“That’s all I
know.
 
All he said about her was her
name.
 
Oh, and he wanted me to prepare
the VIP suite for her.”

“He
did not,” Paige replied, astonished.

“He
did too,” replied Beatrice.
 
“She may not
mean squat to us, but she’s apparently a big deal to him.”

Paige
didn’t like to hear that.
 
“Did you look
her up?” she asked.

“Of
course I looked her up!”

“And?”

“And there’s
absolutely nothing on her.
 
I Googled her
and everything.
 
I don’t know a thing
about her.”

“And
he makes her manager,” Paige said, as if she still couldn’t believe it.

“Excuse
you,” Beatrice said.
 
“He made her
Executive General Manager.
 
As if he
wanted to make sure I understood perfectly she was going to be the boss.
 
My boss.
 
It’s just awful.”

“It’s
Charles,” Paige said.
 
“He does it his
way and he doesn’t care who he hurts.
 
That’s Big Daddy.
 
Asshole
extraordinaire.”

“So
you and he are still off again then?”

“We’re
on and off from minute to minute.
 
You
know how it goes.
 
I try to be friendly
with him, but he just makes me so angry!
 
I heard he may be fooling around with Abigail Ridge again, but I think
that’s just a rumor.”

“It’s
no rumor,” Beatrice said.
 
“He never
stopped fooling around with her.
 
She
doesn’t tell, that’s why he’s kept her around longer than anybody else.
 
At least that’s what I heard.
 
She doesn’t brag about the fact she can get
Big Daddy Sinatra in her bed, and he likes that.”

“I
wasn’t bragging either,” Paige insisted.
 
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating.
 
But I’m no slut like Abby.
 
I
refuse to let a man keep me a secret, I don’t care how open our relationship
may be.”

“You
think this Jenay Franklin is another
don’t
tell, quiet one
like Abigail?” Beatrice asked.

“I’ll
know when I see her.
 
He has a particular
type.”

“You,
in other words,” Beatrice said.

“There
you go,” Paige said with a finger point and a smile, although, deep down, it
was hardly funny.

Jericho City Limits.

Jenay’s
heart was racing as she drove into Charlie’s hometown for the very first
time.
 
Although the sign said City
Limits
, it looked more like the
countryside.
 
Rolling hills of
grain.
 
Windmills.
 
Farms.
 
Lots of jagged, rocky coastline.
 
It was beautiful.
 
She was digging
on the sense of peace, and tranquility.
 
She felt as if she could really love it here.
 

Until
she drove five miles further, and arrived in the heart of downtown.

It
was still a beautiful place, filled with beautiful Tudor-style buildings and
brick-lined streets.
 
But the townspeople
gave her the kind of stares that nobody would want.
 
Not that they were angry stares, or repulsive
in any way.
 
But they were
plentiful.
 
Everybody, it seemed, was
watching her as she drove through town.
 

She
knew some of the stares had to do with the fact that she was driving Charlie’s
car, but everybody in the town couldn’t automatically see a black Jaguar and
figure it had to belong to Charles Sinatra.
 
Or could they?
 
Charlie owned so
many businesses, and so much land, and the town wasn’t a big city by any
barometer.
 
It would still be saying a
lot for all of the people she passed to know one man’s car, but maybe not.
 
And then again, she thought, maybe it was
more her they were staring at, than the car.
 
She’d never lived in a small town in her life.
 
She wouldn’t begin to know the dynamics.

The
GPS system inside the Jaguar gave her turn-by-turn navigation that took her
right where she was going.
 
She,
thankfully, didn’t have to ask any of those busybody town folk for directions
of any kind.
 

And
then she was there.

There it is
, she thought, as she drove up the
long driveway that lead to the hotel’s main entrance.
 
Jericho
Inn
, it said on the large stone at the entrance.
 
Although the name left a lot to be desired,
the look was magnificent.
 
It was an
old-styled bed and breakfast that had the look and feel of a grand old elegant
mansion.
 
She was surprised.
 
She had tried to check it out on the
internet, but discovered that Charles hadn’t gotten around to investing in a
website yet.
 
It was still that new to
him.
 
But no website?
 
For a business?
 
She knew the place needed help.
 
But she thought it would be just like, well,
just like helping out a Motel 6.
 
But it
was nothing like she expected.
 
It was
actually a very beautiful, upscale hotel with a resort look and feel to
it.
 
But that didn’t make Jenay feel any
better.
 
Just looking at the place made
her feel overwhelmed; as if it was way too much.
 
How could she, a woman with very little
practical experience, run a place this vast?

But
she’d already accepted the position, Charles was in New York, there was no
turning back.
 

Besides,
what was she going to turn back to?
 
New
Mexico?
 
Capani’s?
 
She grabbed her Gucci bag, removed her
sunglasses, and stepped out of the car.

Inside,
Beatrice and Paige were standing behind the front desk watching as the small,
shapely black woman stepped out of a car that looked remarkably like Charles’s.

“That’s
her?” Paige asked.
 
She was
astonished.
 
“That can’t be her!”

“And
it looks like his car, Paige,” Beatrice said.
 
“It has to be her.”

“Charles
is a lot of insufferable things,” Paige said.
 
“He does things differently just for the hell of it most of the
times.
 
But there is no way you can convince
me that he would be so reckless as to turn his business, a business like this,
over to somebody like her!”

“Yes,”
Beatrice said, staring at Jenay too.
 
“She is gorgeous, isn’t she?”

Paige
looked at Beatrice.
 
What did that
woman’s looks have to do with what she was saying, she wondered?
 

But
Beatrice knew exactly what it had to do with what she was saying.
 
Beatrice was worried about this woman taking
her job.
 
Paige was worried about this
woman taking her man.
 
A man, Beatrice
and everybody else in town already knew, she never had to begin with.
 
Abigail Ridge was Paige’s competition,
Beatrice thought.
 
Not this exotic piece
of meat they had on their hands right here.

But
as Jenay walked into the majestic lobby of the Jericho Inn, a lobby with a massive
crystal chandelier hanging from the rafters of its cathedral ceilings, and the
dual staircases sweeping down on either side, and remarkable artwork donning
the walls, she was too busy admiring the grandeur of the place rather than the
look on the faces of two older women.
 
Because it was all so daunting.
 
She was astounded that Charles would believe she could run all of
this.
 
She was pleased that he would give
her this chance, and was inwardly excited by the prospect.
 
But she was awestruck too.
 

And
she remembered what he had said.
 
He
wasn’t giving her any pass.
 
He would
crack the whip if he had to.
 
It was a
lot to take in all at once.

“Welcome
to the Inn,” Beatrice said cheerfully as Jenay walked up to the desk.
 

Jenay
returned her smile.
 
“Thank-you.”
 
She also noticed the other one standing
beside her.
 
She wasn’t even pretending
to be cheerful.
 
She was too busy staring
daggers at her.

“Do
you have a reservation?” Beatrice asked.

“No,
actually, I’m Jenay Franklin.
 
I’m here
to see Beatrice Moynihan.”

 
Paige nor Beatrice could still believe
it.
 
She looked so
young
, thought the fifty-year-old Beatrice.
 
She looked so
black
, thought the forty-year-old Paige.

“I’m
Bea Moynihan,” Beatrice said as she extended her hand.

They
shook.
 
“Nice to meet you, Miss
Moynihan.”

“Bea
please. Or Beatrice.
 
Charles told me you
were coming.”

“Yes.
 
He mentioned you as well.”

“Well,
I know you’ve had a long drive.
 
He said
you were coming from Boston?”

“Yes,
that’s correct.”

“I
have the VIP suite prepared, as he instructed me,” Beatrice said, “and I’ll be
happy to show you to your room.
 
We don’t
have Valet parking here, but I’ll get one of the staff to retrieve your
luggage.”

 
“Actually,” Jenay said, “I’m not ready to see
my own room.
 
I would like to see the Inn
first.”

Beatrice
wasn’t accustomed to anybody, outside of Charles Sinatra, going against her
suggestions so easily.
 
“You would like
to see it?”

“Yes.
 
Specifically the guestrooms.”
 
Jenay was convinced that if the rooms were
lacking, so was everything else.
 
If the
rooms were in tiptop shape, so was everything else.
 
She had to know what she was up against.

“You
want to see the rooms
now
?” Beatrice
asked, as if she’d never heard anything more ridiculous.