At Your Service (Silhouette Desire) Read Free

Charles, might have already hired someone to try to track her down. To bring her back.
    “Paul,” she broke into his stream of words. “Paul, listen to me. First of all, Charles and I are not engaged, no matter what the family says. I never said yes. And I’ll discuss everything else with you later, but right now I need you to do me a favor. Please.”
    “You know you have only to ask,” he answered immediately, the solid strength of his voice reassurance in itself.
    “This is going to sound crazy, Paul, but I need you to be a reference for me so I can get a job waiting tables.” She repeated the description of the diner that she’d given to Tyler, although since Paul wasn’t familiar with the 70’s sitcom she’d based her story on, there was some confusion as to why he would ever let one of his employees chew gum. Not to mention the famous quote.
    “I have eaten these grits, yes? And that was bad enough. But why would anyone want to kiss them, chérie? ”
    By the time she explained to Paul what he would need to say, and described what might show up on his caller ID to alert him to answer the phone “Mel’s Diner,” she was frantic to get off the phone.
    “Thank you, Paul. You are saving my life.”
    “I still don’t understand why you want to wait tables when you should be running all of your family’s restaurants. You know that’s what your grandmother wanted. But if it will help you, and if you promise to call me soon…”
    “I will, Paul. I promise.”
     
     
    After a sweaty walk during which she seriously mourned not having her personal driver still available to her, Grace made it back to the kitchenette room she was renting at the Sherradin Hotel. She watched the cockroaches scatter as she opened the door and let in the light from the hall. The bright September sunshine outside couldn’t penetrate the grime covering the small windows.
    “Olly, olly, oxen-free,” she murmured, reminded of games she’d played as a child where everyone scattered into hiding places and waited for whoever was It to come and find them. She wondered how long it would take her to make enough money for a deposit on a better room.
    And how are you going to rent an apartment, Ms. Grace Desmond, without any identification to show a landlord? she asked herself. Not to mention convince Tyler to keep you on.
    “I don’t know,” she answered out loud, “but I have to get out of this pathetic excuse for a hotel. I don’t care how they spell it. I am never going to think I’m staying at a Sheraton.”
    The single room had a bright overhead light and a sturdy lock on the door, and that was about all that could be said about it of a positive nature. On this hot, late summer day, the air was positively stifling since air-conditioning was a luxury definitely not found here. Never in her life had she lived without climate control. The discomfort of it was a revelation she’d not been thrilled to have.
    Grace had bought a cheap set of blue-striped sheets and some brightly colored plastic glasses and plates, so she knew those were clean. But rusty water stains spread menacingly on the ceiling above her bed and the short pile of the beige carpet showed a dozen stains of its own. She didn’t know what had made those irremovable marks, but she was unfortunately sure that, unlike the ceiling, they weren’t water.
    She yanked open the folding door of the one skinny closet and then cursed as the door came off its track again. Her battle with the closet door had become a daily ritual, one that Grace never seemed to win. She tugged various items off their hangers and laid them out on her bed, planning for the evening ahead of her.
    She knew from experience that opening night of a new restaurant was insanity personified in a space bounded by four walls, a ceiling and a floor. And that was true even if the staff was well-trained and comfortable with the menu and ordering system. Grace knew she would pick up Tyler’s system quickly.