The Tycoon's Seductive Revenge(3)

“Umm, about that...”

Ellie drew up sharply. The housekeeper almost bumped into her. Matilda refused to meet her eyes, wiping her palms on her apron. Ellie frowned. “What about that ?”

Matilda scrunched her apron in her fists. “See, it’s like this.” She hesitated, then the words poured out in a rush. “Well, when I went to Sam’s Flower Shop, Sam gave me the scolding look. You know that look he gets. So, well, he...” She glanced pleadingly at Ellie. “He says our credit isn’t good there anymore.”

Panic flooded Ellie’s veins. This was the last thing she needed. Every touch had to be perfect for the investor in Suite 1A. Her eyebrows pulled together. “No flowers?”

“There are flowers,” Matilda confirmed. “I paid for them myself. Miss Montgomery, I didn’t know what else to do—”

“Sam should know better.” But Ellie suspected the day would come when a promise from the Montgomery Hotel made people turn away. On a small island like El Dorado, locals depended on revenue from the only luxury hotel. They had suffered financially in the past three years, as much as Ellie had emotionally since the death of her father. The hotel had to remain intact. Or dozens of lives and livelihoods—including her own—would be swept away with the Atlantic tide.

Ellie sighed. “I’m sorry you had to be in that position.” Her throat tightened. “At this time, I can’t offer to...”

“I know.” Matilda straightened proudly. “I bought them because I know how much this place means to you. To all of us.”

Ellie suppressed the tears that stung the backs of her eyes. “I promise you,” she said, touching the housekeeper’s shoulder, “I will make it up to you. No matter what I have to do.” Even if it means subjecting my future to Arnoff Applestone . She shuddered at the thought of the first—so far the only—investor, king of bad comb-overs and sleazy hotel casinos. She swallowed hard. “I will take over your duties for the afternoon.”

“Oh! No, I’d never expect that.”

“It’s the least I can do. I’m sorry for your trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Matilda’s eagerness drove a knife through Ellie’s heart.

The housekeeper knew Ellie forfeited any income to keep a skeleton crew on staff. All Ellie had was credit backed by the word of four generations of Montgomery’s. And the singular hope of landing an investor who’d buy the 135-year-old hotel in “as-is” condition. In the current dismal real estate market, her chances were bleak.

“It’s all right, Ellie.” The housekeeper sent her a look of sympathy. While Ellie appreciated the gesture, nothing about their dire straights was all right with her.

“No, it’s not alright. But I will make it better.” No matter what it takes .

At that moment Matilda’s husband, James, rushed up to them. He mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. “Madam, I regret to inform you, the gentleman in Suite 1A has not responded to our wakeup calls. And his breakfast tray is cold to the touch.”

The blood drained from her face. “Didn’t he check in last night?”

“The guest sheet has initials scratched there, but it’s indecipherable.” James shrugged.

“No one has seen him?” When James and Matilda shook their heads, Ellie experienced a rush of humiliation. “If we went to all this trouble and expense for nothing...” She set off toward the suite.

She would not let this place be run into the ground—financially through foreclosure, or morally through Arnoff Applestone. Something had to come through. They were practically giving the hotel away. She’d be left with nothing in the end, but hopefully she could keep her job as hotel manager and earn a paycheck.

The problem was she had few other work skills to offer. Plus she’d be competing for work in this depressed island economy against the very people she’d grown up with, but apart from. Everyone who had watched her once-wealthy father, and then Ellie, fall from grace. That notion became a bitter pill that lodged in her digestive tract, slowly churning into an ulcer of constant anxiety.

Compounding this was her refusal to leave the island. She would not become another casualty, like the rest of her family, punished by the curse that afflicted the Montgomery’s when they left this small sanctuary. The only place Ellie had ever called home.

Her fate would be played out here.

And right now the investor in Suite 1A could make a difference in the course of her life. She marched up to the door of that “someone’s” room. She knocked. After thirty seconds, she knocked again.