Chapter 24 Spark of Hope
Dorian turned in time to see Lydia and Riley walking down the hallway, away from him. He didn’t see her face, but that voice had been haunting him, and he never forgot a beautiful figure.
Her hair was down, those same curls that had bounced and flicked around in a ponytail the night before, bounced around her shoulders now.
The plain black and jean waiter look had been swapped for a smart blue dress, sensible flats, and a leather purse hanging off her arm. The curve of her ass in that dress gave him dangerous ideas, but where the fuck was she going in that?
Down the hall was the Clubhouse and the Society’s administrative offices, and there was no way she was cleaning his villa dressed for an office job.
There was also no way that a maid was a candidate to join the Society.
Though the thought sparked the beginnings of an idea
He’d have to figure that shit out later, but most likely, if she were applying for a job with the Clubhouse, she wouldn’t get it. They’d send her to the Resort to clean his house the way she had been for years.
Dorian huffed and trudged toward the Luncheon. A woman with a head full of twists rushed past him. Her eyes were wide with terror, despite the firm set to her full lips. She looked like she was running for her life and about to be sick all at the same time, but he also noticed she had a nice, round ass and matching tits that belonged in a music video.
He considered stopping her and playing at being a knight in armor for a moment. Nothing wrong with a small ego boost, but she took off down the stairs, hand pressed to her mouth, before he’d managed a word.
Oh, well.
He entered the room, ignoring the chatter, the clinking of glass, and the cool breeze coming in from the balcony. The Cup had been set on the same pedestal it had occupied for the past four years.
He snagged the first alcoholic drink he could get his hand on and scanned the room. Most of the athletes were familiar. A few faces were missing. He’d gotten here before Animkii’s mini-me, so he made good enough time despite the disapproving glower his new administrator sent his way.
He ignored half of the baby hockey players and headed toward Animkii. Mason was at his side like usual, but the gloom had come back darker and more sinister than before, clouding his expression despite the polite smile on his face. It was in the way he gripped the tumbler in his hand that looked suspiciously like alcohol. His eyes were listless and vacant, where they hadn’t been the night before.
He caught Animkii’s gaze. His eyes tightened around the edges, and Dorian’s stomach plummeted.
What the fuck happened?
Lydia walked to the desk and nudged Riley ahead of her to check in and get an application. Lydia handed her old Resort ID to the woman.
“I should be in the system. The Clubhouse uses the same system, right?”
The woman blinked and nodded. She scanned the ID and picked up a phone.
“If you could step aside for a moment?”
Lydia nodded, took the ID back, and stepped aside. Riley sank into a seat, glancing up at her nervously.
Lydia shrugged. “Probably nothing.”
Not that she’d be surprised to hear that her old manager had blacklisted her or something.
The woman, disheveled and clearly upset, came around the corner just as Riley finished her application. Her usually painfully straight bun sloped to one side. Her eyes fell on Lydia. Disdain and irritation flashed across her face. Her gaze flicked across Lydia’s face quickly, then settled to a cool, brittle indifference.
“Come with me.”
Lydia cocked an eyebrow at her. “Are you blacklisting me from applying at the Clubhouse?”
“I’m not discussing that here.” She pressed her lips to a thin line. “Just come.”
“I’m not a dog.”
“What seems to be the problem?” A man asked, coming up behind her.
Her old manager jumped back and straightened up. Whoever he was, he had to be important.
“You’re Ms. Whittaker, correct?”
“Y-Yes, I am.”
“I would think you’d had more pressing things to attend to…”
She flushed and gestured to Lydia. “If she would just come with me, I could.”
“You fired me,” Lydia said. “And since you aren’t in HR, I don’t want to speak to you, privately or otherwise.”
The man hummed. “Are you Ms. Baker?”
“I am.”
He nodded. “Ms. Whittaker will make every endeavor to correct her tone if she continues to be employed here, but I believe she has been ordered to find you quickly and get you in to talk with the director about the missteps she took with your employment.”
Lydia hesitated. A bit of traitorous hope flickered in her chest. Getting her job at the Resort back would go a long way to making sure she could leave the Blue Kudu and Megumi’s apartment without worrying about her cash flow, but she didn’t want to work under the woman again.
Getting fired because of one cleaning that was cut short and all the blatant hostility these past four years was a pattern she’d had to deal with, but if she could get a job at the Clubhouse, she wouldn’t have to deal with any of it.
She probably wouldn’t have to talk to or look at Dorian’s arrogant face or wash another pair of his underwear, either.
“I assure you that your new manager will make you a good offer. Wouldn’t it be in your best interest to at least hear it?”
Yes, but the prospect of a new manager was far more interesting. Lydia nodded slowly and looked at Riley, who shooed her with an encouraging smile. Lydia straightened her shoulders and followed them out. Whittaker walked quickly, and the man followed at an easy stride until they reached another office. Whittaker entered first.
“I brought her.”
The man stepped inside as the woman sitting at the desk looked up. She smiled at Lydia.
“Welcome, Ms. Baker. I’m the Director of the Resort’s residential arrangements. Please have a seat.”
Lydia sank into a seat and noted that Whittaker left a moment later like her ass was on fire. She must have really fucked up. The director was pale with a plain face and dark eyes. She seemed about as old as Lydia’s Mom with a kind smile.
“First, I’d like to apologize for the way you’ve been treated while delivering such exemplary service. I can assure you that if you agree to come back, many things have changed.” She passed a few pages across the table. “The highlights of the update to your new employment contract. I’d like you to look them over as a starting place for our negotiations.”
Lydia hesitated, eyeing her suspiciously. The words were nice, encouraging, but the Resort had never been a place for negotiations. Nothing about Fortuna had ever been a negotiation, so why was it now?