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Page 17

   


One of the tasks Ian had been encouraging her to handle more and more often during these hotel visits was to write down her own observations about the administrative staff, and where there might be need for improvement. Most of the time she’d had only very minor things to point out, since the staff members at each of the hotels she’d visited thus far were extremely well trained and took great pride in their jobs.
But today it seemed she was filling page after page with notes about sloppy filing systems, untidy work spaces, sensitive information left sitting out in the open, and, of course, the poor attitudes of the staff. They were also extremely lax in their dress code, not a single one of them paying much heed to the requirements. One of the women was wearing casual sandals that might have been appropriate for the beach, but definitely not for this office, while the lone male on the admin staff was actually wearing jeans. Tessa made discreet notes about another woman whose makeup and jewelry needed to be toned way down, and yet another who was wearing a suit that was wrinkled, stained, and a couple of sizes too small for her.
The biggest offender of the dress code, however, was most assuredly Blaire. And while her clothing looked expensive and well kept, the blouse was far too sheer and low-cut, the skirt several inches too short. She was wearing a pair of black Louboutin stilettos, the four inch heels too high to comply with what had been set down in the official corporate dress code, and her perfume was so strong Tessa had had to fight off the urge to gag several times today.
With her carefully tousled dark brown waves, bright red lips, and long crimson nails, Blaire looked like she was all set for a night of clubbing and singles bar hopping, instead of working at her job as PA to the manager of a prestigious five star hotel. And that particular image was going to be yet one more thing that needed to be changed in a hurry around here, thought Tessa as she made page after page of detailed notes.
The tense, stressful day was finally beginning to wind down, though for Ian and Tessa the drama would unfortunately continue, as they were scheduled to head off to dinner with the troublesome Martin and his wife. Tessa thought sourly that she would be very, very happy to see the last of Chicago - and in particular, this hotel - for quite some time. She glanced through her checklist of the various reports and other items that she was responsible for collecting at each of the hotels, and grimaced to realize she was missing several thing - things that she was now going to have to ask Blaire to assemble for her.
“What can I do for you now, Tessa?” asked Blaire in a falsely sweet voice as Tessa approached her desk.
“I need copies of these reports and files,” stated Tessa in her best no-nonsense tone, holding out a neatly typed sheet of paper. “Actually, Andrew would have emailed this list to you over two weeks ago so that you could have had them waiting for me when I arrived.”
Blaire gave an unconcerned little shrug. “Gee, guess I must have missed seeing that email. Or maybe I’ve just been extra busy these past couple of weeks. You know, making sure everything was just right for Mr. Gregson’s visit.”
Tessa gave her a tight-lipped smile in reply. “Obviously you didn’t think of everything then, or these reports would have been ready. Mr. Gregson and I will be leaving here at ten a.m. tomorrow, so please be sure to have these available for us before then.”
Blaire glared at her in annoyance. “I’m still not sure exactly why he needed to drag you along on this trip. I’ve always been more than capable of taking care of anything he needs.”
Tessa’s smile deepened into one of sly innuendo, just about at the end of her rope with the nasty, cunning PA. “Well, maybe his needs have changed since the last time he visited. Why don’t you let me worry about what Mr. Gregson does and doesn’t need, so that all you have to do is get these items together for us?”
Blaire nearly snatched the sheet of paper out of Tessa’s hands, and was about to deliver an undoubtedly sarcastic retort, when she glimpsed Tessa’s dazzling blue diamond engagement ring.
“Oh, how beautiful!” she gushed with sincere admiration. “I’ve never seen a ring like that before. You’re engaged?”
Tessa nodded. “Yes. Just since September. We’re getting married next June.”
Blaire winked at her slyly. “And your fiancé doesn’t have a problem with you traveling with a hottie like Mr. Gregson? He must be a real trusting guy.”
Tessa hesitated briefly before replying. “Actually, my fiancé is -”
But before she could complete her sentence, the door to the conference room was all but flung open, and a visibly agitated Ian appeared in the doorway.
“Tessa, could you please join us?” he asked abruptly. “I need you to take notes during my meeting with Martin.”
“Of course,” she replied instantly, then gave Blaire a brief glance. “Please be sure to have those copies ready for the morning. I’ll see you here then.”
She could all but feel Blaire’s icy, narrow-eyed gaze shooting darts at her back as she hurried inside the meeting room, closing the door firmly behind her. Once inside, she could sense the thick, uncomfortable tension that permeated the air, and could almost see angry plumes of smoke escaping from the top of Ian’s head.
At Ian’s urging, she took a seat, her tablet and stylus close at hand. Martin was sitting at the opposite end of the long conference table, and he looked nearly as angry as Ian did. Tessa was more than half-afraid that the two men would indeed come to blows, despite Ian’s repeated assurances to the contrary. Not to mention the fact that Martin would be sadly out of his element in any sort of physical confrontation, given that he was at least a dozen years older than Ian, and more than fifty pounds overweight. Tessa thought briefly that she could probably deck him herself if need be.
Martin glanced at Tessa and his expression turned downright sulky. “I thought this was to be a private chat, Ian,” he said churlishly. “Is it really necessary for your girl here to take notes? You and I are practically family, after all, and I don’t think an outsider should be listening in on such a confidential matter.”
Ian took his seat carefully, leaning back in the chair in a deceptively casual manner. But Tessa could see quite clearly that he was as tightly strung as a bow, and that he was perilously close to losing his temper.
“First of all,” he began in a not so pleasant voice, “Ms. Lockwood is not to be referred to as “my girl”. She is my executive assistant, and a very valuable member of my management team. Understood?”