Lamborghini?” I drawl. “Anyway, whatever it is, you shouldn’t be out front Jules,” I add. “You’ve been told about that before.”
“Lamborghini.” A look of rapture crosses Jules’ red-cheeked cherubic face. “Who does it belong to, Holly?”
“It probably belongs to the Drakes,” I reply. I want to go outside and take a peek, but it don’t want to set a bad example in front of Jules. She can be very easily led astray as it is. “They checked in just now, not that it’s any concern of yours. Now get back to work before you get into trouble.”
“I’m on a break,” Jules says defensively. “I’m allowed breaks. This isn’t a slave camp.”
“I know all about your breaks, they go on forever,” I say sternly. I wince when I realise how much like Mom I sound. I erase the frown on my face and instead offer her a sympathetic smile. “You’d better go, before Dolores catches you.”
“Silly old witch,” Jules mutters. She sticks out her jaw pugnaciously. “She’s always picking on me, and I do twice as much work as the other two girls, it’s not fair!”
“Dolores likes to run a tight ship,” I reply, “but if she’s really giving you a hard time go and talk to Harvey about her.”
Jules makes a face. “He’s worse than Dolores. I don’t know how you can work with him so close to you. The way he looks at the girls, dirty old man. You know at the Christmas party he touched me right on the – ”
“Okay, Jules, you’ve already told me this like a hundred times,” I say quickly. “I think the whole town knows where he touched you.” Harvey is the hotel manager, and though Jules is prone to exaggeration she is right that he has a roving eye, and sometimes a roving hand, even though he is married. He’d made a few mild advances towards me it is true, but I’d politely rebuffed him without him taking offence. I’d heard a dark rumour that the girl who has my job before me has been fired because she hasn’t been as receptive to Harvey’s advances as he wanted her to be. The official story is that she is let go because of poor timekeeping, and there is no proof there is more to it. I hope it is just a nasty rumour for my own sake. I love working at the Cherry Tree. In the four years I have been here, my faltering self esteem has been given a well needed boost. For the first time in my life, I am looking forward to the future, and I dare to even imagine being manager here myself one day. It is a far off objective and at the moment it means avoiding making powerful enemies like Harvey.
“They must be very rich,” Jules says musingly, slouching over the desk.
I scowl at her in irritation, but don’t have the heart to shoo her away. “Who’s very rich, Jules?”
“Mr and Mrs Drake, of course!” the girl retorts, looking at me like I am a complete idiot. “If they’ve got a car like that, they must have a lot of money. I wonder what they’re doing in a dump like this?”
I bridle at my future dominion being referred to as a dump. The Cherry Tree is a rambling clapboard mansion straight out of the Victorian era. It is beautifully picturesque, though a little ramshackle. The décor is a rather dated now, and the place is crying out for a fresh coat of paint, but elderly Mr Walden who owns the hotel doesn’t like parting with his considerable fortune. If he is a bit more generous, the Cherry Tree might get a lot more guests. As it is most of the profits came from the adjoining restaurant. Still, things could change.
“Why the Drakes are staying here is their business,” I say primly, “though it’s not completely earth-shattering. We have some great online reviews.”
“You sound like the website,” Jules snickers. “All this butt kissing won’t get you anywhere. If you want a promotion you’ll have to give Harvey a flash of your panties.”
I try to look offended, but I can’t help but smirk. “Jules! You’re terrible!” I say in a
“Lamborghini.” A look of rapture crosses Jules’ red-cheeked cherubic face. “Who does it belong to, Holly?”
“It probably belongs to the Drakes,” I reply. I want to go outside and take a peek, but it don’t want to set a bad example in front of Jules. She can be very easily led astray as it is. “They checked in just now, not that it’s any concern of yours. Now get back to work before you get into trouble.”
“I’m on a break,” Jules says defensively. “I’m allowed breaks. This isn’t a slave camp.”
“I know all about your breaks, they go on forever,” I say sternly. I wince when I realise how much like Mom I sound. I erase the frown on my face and instead offer her a sympathetic smile. “You’d better go, before Dolores catches you.”
“Silly old witch,” Jules mutters. She sticks out her jaw pugnaciously. “She’s always picking on me, and I do twice as much work as the other two girls, it’s not fair!”
“Dolores likes to run a tight ship,” I reply, “but if she’s really giving you a hard time go and talk to Harvey about her.”
Jules makes a face. “He’s worse than Dolores. I don’t know how you can work with him so close to you. The way he looks at the girls, dirty old man. You know at the Christmas party he touched me right on the – ”
“Okay, Jules, you’ve already told me this like a hundred times,” I say quickly. “I think the whole town knows where he touched you.” Harvey is the hotel manager, and though Jules is prone to exaggeration she is right that he has a roving eye, and sometimes a roving hand, even though he is married. He’d made a few mild advances towards me it is true, but I’d politely rebuffed him without him taking offence. I’d heard a dark rumour that the girl who has my job before me has been fired because she hasn’t been as receptive to Harvey’s advances as he wanted her to be. The official story is that she is let go because of poor timekeeping, and there is no proof there is more to it. I hope it is just a nasty rumour for my own sake. I love working at the Cherry Tree. In the four years I have been here, my faltering self esteem has been given a well needed boost. For the first time in my life, I am looking forward to the future, and I dare to even imagine being manager here myself one day. It is a far off objective and at the moment it means avoiding making powerful enemies like Harvey.
“They must be very rich,” Jules says musingly, slouching over the desk.
I scowl at her in irritation, but don’t have the heart to shoo her away. “Who’s very rich, Jules?”
“Mr and Mrs Drake, of course!” the girl retorts, looking at me like I am a complete idiot. “If they’ve got a car like that, they must have a lot of money. I wonder what they’re doing in a dump like this?”
I bridle at my future dominion being referred to as a dump. The Cherry Tree is a rambling clapboard mansion straight out of the Victorian era. It is beautifully picturesque, though a little ramshackle. The décor is a rather dated now, and the place is crying out for a fresh coat of paint, but elderly Mr Walden who owns the hotel doesn’t like parting with his considerable fortune. If he is a bit more generous, the Cherry Tree might get a lot more guests. As it is most of the profits came from the adjoining restaurant. Still, things could change.
“Why the Drakes are staying here is their business,” I say primly, “though it’s not completely earth-shattering. We have some great online reviews.”
“You sound like the website,” Jules snickers. “All this butt kissing won’t get you anywhere. If you want a promotion you’ll have to give Harvey a flash of your panties.”
I try to look offended, but I can’t help but smirk. “Jules! You’re terrible!” I say in a
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