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“In my wallet. In my purse. In the drawer.”
In mere seconds Alex had the information and placed the call. She spoke to the receptionist, gave her Belinda’s name, and received instructions. She called over a young man from the registration desk and asked him to locate his boss.
“Your boss will need to find someone to take Belinda’s place. She’s going to the hospital.”
The young man looked at Belinda’s stricken face.
“Randy, I know how important these next few weeks are to Wyatt,” the woman said, her voice breathless and strained. “It’s awards season. Reviewers will be visiting. A whole series of them. And they’ll be anonymous. We can’t let down our guard.”
“I’m sure Wyatt will understand,” Alex said, even though she didn’t know any such thing. She sent the young man scurrying to call his boss.
The woman let out a cry. “Breathe,” Alex instructed, her voice gentle but firm. “Forget the hotel. Breathe out.”
Belinda obeyed. Alex knelt at her side, held her hand, and began to coach her through the pain.
An expensively dressed woman appeared at the desk, her expression uncertain. “The Bistro Lizette?”
Belinda was bent over. Alex reached out and grabbed a map off the desk, glancing at it. “Second floor, west wing. I’ve been there. You’ll love it.” She smiled, sending the woman away.
In the distance an ambulance could be heard. Alex wondered what her friends would think of this.
As another person appeared, she gave him instructions and sent him on his way, but she couldn’t help noting that the man at the front desk looked concerned.
“Wyatt’s on the way,” he said, appearing at Alex’s side as she began to coach Belinda through another contraction. “Maybe you should move out of the public eye. This hotel is Wyatt’s baby. No pun intended.”
“Leave Wyatt to me,” Alex said. “She’s in pain. I’m not moving her until the ambulance arrives.”
She certainly hoped this Wyatt person didn’t give Belinda grief for not timing her baby’s arrival better. She also hoped he wasn’t that tall, gorgeous, intimidating man in the suit who had just entered the lobby and turned in her direction.
Wyatt headed across the lobby toward the concierge’s desk. There, two EMTs were placing his very pregnant concierge on a stretcher. A slender woman with long dark hair smiled at her, took her hand, and turned to a man who had neared the desk. The man nodded, took the map the woman had obviously given him, and backed away from the area.
“I’ve called your husband and directed him to meet you at the hospital. Your neighbor will watch your son. I’ll handle things until someone comes,” the woman told Belinda, her calm, clear voice softened by distance. “Don’t worry. Everything’s under control.”
At that moment Randy at the front desk saw Wyatt and headed him off. “Wyatt, I tried to get the woman to move Belinda to somewhere less public. People are staring. But she told me that if you were upset she would handle you—just as cool as you please.”
Wyatt raised an eyebrow. Because of his height and his high expectations of himself and others he had a tendency to intimidate. Women—people—didn’t offer to handle him, as a rule. The fact that this one had made her…interesting.
As he watched, a woman in a flowered blouse started toward the empty registration desk, frowned, and turned in his direction. But after one look at Wyatt, and at Randy’s scowl, she headed toward the woman with Belinda. The still smiling, calm woman, Wyatt couldn’t help noting.
He should step in. Help. It was what he would have normally done, but…not yet. The EMTs were questioning Belinda, and the woman taking her place…He had to see what happened. If necessary, he would do damage control.
As he watched, the guest in the flowered blouse began to apologize profusely, explaining how she had overflowed the bathtub, but the dark-haired woman smiled sweetly, took one fleeting look at Belinda and picked up the phone.
“Please don’t worry,” she told the woman, writing down her room number. “It’s being taken care of. Please let us know if you have any other problems.”
The woman with the plumbing problem clutched her savior’s hand, thanking the dark-haired beauty.
Correction, he thought. Beauty wasn’t the right word, exactly. The woman wasn’t classically pretty, but there was something in her manner that gave the illusion of beauty. Despite this odd situation, she acted as if she did this kind of thing every day. And when Belinda moaned, she offered soothing words with what seemed like genuine concern.
Belinda’s moan had an effect on him, too. She was too pale, suffering. He had to help. “Call the main office and have them send anyone who can spare a few minutes to help during their breaks,” he told Randy. “I will, of course, pay them double time for the minutes they give up. We’ll manage to cover. For today, anyway,” he said, striding toward Belinda.
“Wyatt, I’m sorry,” Belinda said as he reached her, and took her hand.
“For creating a life? Nothing to be sorry for.”
“But my replace—” A long, anguished moan escaped her.
Wyatt’s whole body reacted to her pain. “She’s all right?” he asked one of the EMTs.
“She’s having a baby, man, but everything looks good,” the man said. “Pain’s part of the process.”
“Do not think about McKendrick’s,” he told Belinda. “That’s an order. I found a replacement this morning.”
At his words Belinda smiled weakly. “You found someone? Good. I can go now,” she told the EMT. Then she turned to the dark-haired woman. “Thank you for keeping me sane.”
“Thank you,” the woman said. “It’s not every day I get to do something so satisfying.”
As the EMTs pushed Belinda away, the woman started toward the elevators.
Wyatt reached her in three long strides. “Excuse me, but who in blazes are you?”
She stopped, staring up at him with eyes the color of sky. With her full attention concentrated on him, he felt as if a great big fist of awareness had hit him square in the chest. Who on earth had eyes that blue?
“No one,” she said.
For a moment Wyatt thought she was answering his question about her eyes…until he realized that she was telling him who she was. “I’m just a guest who was in the lobby when Belinda’s labor pains started. No big deal.” She started to leave.
“No big deal? Sorry, but…no. I own this place, and it was a very big deal to me. Whoever you are, you’re not ‘no one’. You handled a woman in labor, a very flustered Randy, the concierge desk of an unfamiliar hotel, and you managed to soothe a nervous guest all at the same time. No guests were harmed or inconvenienced, and the flow of the hotel was largely uninterrupted. Tell me, Miss…no one, do you do this kind of thing often?”
For some reason that finally seemed to fluster her. “Not exactly this kind of thing, this baby thing, but unfortunately, yes, I have a tendency to jump into these kinds of situations. I once tried to give someone CPR, only to discover that the victim was part of a group of amateur filmmakers making a movie. It was embarrassing for me and frustrating for them.”
Her voice was low. She frowned. “I don’t regret helping Belinda. The worst kind of ogre would have stepped in. But that other stuff…interfering with your customers…I really didn’t even stop to think. I may have given out some incorrect information, and you probably already have some emergency system set up. Some protocol that should have been followed. No wonder that guy at the desk was so irritable.”
She looked up at him, those sky eyes looking slightly vulnerable. An intense awareness of her as an attractive woman, not just as a woman who had helped his employee and his hotel, swept through Wyatt. He frowned. Guests were off-limits.
He shook his head. “I’m glad you didn’t hesitate. You kept things running and helped Belinda cope. From what I could see, and what Randy said, you took charge of a difficult situation with calm efficiency.” His tone brooked no argument.
She gave a low, delicious laugh. “Do you think I could get that in writing? I know I got rather bossy with Randy, and other than getting medical help for Belinda, some people would call what I did sticking my nose in where it didn’t belong. Did I really act as if it was perfectly normal for me to field a question about plumbing? I hope that problem got taken care of by the right people. If it did, then I’m just glad that things worked out and nothing too terrible happened. Anyway, now you can get back to making your guests happy,” she said with a smile. “It really is a beautiful hotel.”
She patted his arm, as if he was another guest who needed soothing. For some reason that bothered him. Which was ridiculous. What this woman thought of him was immaterial. He never let others’ opinions of him matter. Except where McKendrick’s reputation was concerned.
Which brought him full circle to what was really important. This woman had kept things from getting out of control. She’d impressed him in a way none of the temps he’d interviewed had been able to. How had she managed it so effortlessly?
Wyatt didn’t know, but he intended to find out. With Belinda’s departure, the time for contemplation had passed. In his line of work, the difference between a good businessman and a mediocre one was knowing when to be bold. The door opportunity had opened could suddenly slam shut.
“Excuse me, Miss…?”
“Lowell. Alexandra Lowell. But almost everyone calls me Alex.”
Almost everyone. For half a second he wondered if those who didn’t fall into that category were men. No matter. He cleared his throat. “Alex. All right. If you don’t mind my asking, what do you do for a living?”
Those big blue eyes blinked. “I work the front desk of a chain hotel and run a Web site promoting the sights and sounds of San Diego.”
“Ah.” That explained things a little. She already had some of the skills a good concierge possessed. While he, he reminded himself, had an empty concierge desk and no prospects in sight.
That was a problem. McKendrick’s was known for its opulence, its attention to detail and, above all, its service. This hotel was the project that had saved Wyatt’s life. He’d built it from the ground up and poured his soul into it during the dark days, when he’d come to a fork in the road and realized that if he didn’t channel his anger into a meaningful goal, he would destroy himself.
These days the resort was a well-oiled machine, but even well-oiled machines could break down without care. A few customers without access to a competent concierge to pamper them could flood the review Web sites and do a lot of damage. Losing Belinda left a hole in customer service that needed to be filled immediately. He could run interference and handle some of her duties, but not all the time. Besides, some guests found him intimidating. He needed to take action. Now.
Wyatt glanced at Alex, a woman guests apparently warmed to, one used to directing people to the local sights and sounds, albeit those of a different city. None of the candidates he’d interviewed thus far could have done what Alex had done. His instincts were urging him to make a move.
Still he resisted. She was a total unknown, who claimed she had a tendency to rush in to help people. That meant she could be emotional, which could mean trouble. And she had those incredible vulnerable eyes that he found far too attractive.
“If you run a Web site, I assume you’re comfortable with Internet research?” he said, probing.
“The web is my weakness,” she confessed. “McKendrick’s site, by the way, has some great features. The virtual tour of the restaurants and clubs is amazing…although a menu for the ice cream bar at the Slide Pool would be helpful. That is, if you’re looking for suggestions.” She looked suddenly uncomfortable. “I—Please forget I said that. I apologize if I was rude.”
The woman just offered you a suggestion on how to improve the hotel Web site, McKendrick. At least interview her, his instincts screamed.
Okay, no avoiding the obvious. Despite his flaws and the mistakes he’d made in his life, he had an unerring instinct about what worked for McKendrick’s. He’d made a fortune following his gut feelings. Randy had been a spontaneous hire, driven purely by instinct, but Wyatt had never regretted the decision. Besides, with Belinda gone he couldn’t afford more time interviewing people who couldn’t handle the job. And this was Las Vegas. Fast. Temporary. A person you met today might be gone two hours from now. And Alex was a guest. Just passing through.
“I wonder—do you have a minute to step into my office?” he asked suddenly. “I have some questions.”
Now she looked wary. “I have friends waiting.”
He nodded. “Five minutes? It’s important.”
Still she hesitated.
For a second he thought he heard her mutter something under her breath about the wisdom of counting to ten. But then she nodded. “All right. After all, what difference can five minutes make?”
A lot, Wyatt thought. A lot could happen, and he had plenty of experience about all the bad things. This time, however, he was hoping for something more positive.
CHAPTER TWO (#u397688a9-9ba8-5885-bcd9-dc667fec01d3)
WYATT glanced at Alex as they moved down the hallway toward his office. She was tall and willowy and…restless. Moments earlier she had excused herself to make a call.
“My apologies for stealing you away from your friends,” he said.
“I just had to let them know where I am. They were expecting me several minutes ago. But since I’m here…could you help me forward a card to Belinda? Babies are important.”
“Do you have children of your own?” he asked.
“No. I’m not married.”
Wyatt felt his senses go on full alert, coupled with a slight sense of relief—no doubt a knee-jerk reaction to the fact that this beauty hadn’t been claimed. But there was also wariness because she hadn’t been claimed. He’d never allow himself to pursue a woman who wanted children. His kind didn’t promise forever, so they didn’t produce babies.
No matter. She would either say yes to what he was about to propose, and their new relationship would create distance between them, or she would say no and he’d never see her again.
Five minutes, he reminded himself, opening the door of his office. “Have a seat.”
She looked at the leather chair as if it might have sharp teeth hiding beneath the upholstery.
“Problem?”
“No. I was just thinking that I feel a bit like a kid who’s unexpectedly been sent to the principal’s office. Mr.—Mr….?”
“McKendrick. Wyatt McKendrick.”
“Of course. Mr. McKendrick. I’m not sure what this is about, but I have to tell you that I’m pretty uncomfortable.”
“And frank.”
She shrugged. “That’s me.” But, despite her discomfort, she sat. She was wearing a white dress, and he couldn’t help noticing that she had amazing legs. He frowned at his reaction.
“Total honesty does bother some people,” she conceded, and he realized that she had noticed his frown.
Wyatt shook his head. “Honesty is…” What I demand of my employees, he’d meant to say. But he didn’t want to come on too strong. Starting with employee rules would be the wrong approach. “I’ll make this brief, Alex. I’m sure you could see how concerned Belinda was about her replacement.”
Alex looked wary. “Ye-es.”
“She takes her work very seriously, and she excels at it.”
“A good concierge must be hard to find.”
“Yes. The job requires someone who can think on her feet.”
“Of course.”
“Someone who knows how to make customers feel at ease, who makes them feel that their concerns matter, whether they need tickets to a show or have a plumbing problem.”
She blinked. Wyatt supposed the plumbing comment had been too much, since she’d handled such a problem only minutes earlier. But he didn’t have any time to waste. She was a guest here. Temporary.
“Of course a good concierge also knows every detail of the city, but that can be learned,” he said.
Alex frowned. “I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this?”
“I find myself temporarily short a concierge.”
“You told Belinda you’d hired someone.”
“I lied. She would have worried, and right now she needs to concentrate on herself and her family.”
A small, pretty smile turned Alex’s extraordinary face even more intriguing. “You don’t sound like the ogre Randy made you out to be.”
He raised one eyebrow.
A guilty flush coloured her cheeks. “Forget I said that.”
