Topaz Heat (Christian Romance) (The Jewel Series) Read Free

design; the ornate balconies carved out of living stone. All of it looked reminiscent of the feel of the old town. He loved this hotel. The New York Viscolli where he worked was bigger, grander, a different style of luxury, but the Boston Hotel would always have his heart.
    He remembered the first time he really saw this hotel. His eighteenth birthday, on a bitter cold January morning, he’d stood in this very spot and stared up at the massive stone structure, gripping a business card in his hand, fighting an internal battle. To trust or to run?
    Born and raised in Boston – south Boston, specifically – Derrick came from a poor family. His mother was an immigrant Italian woman who never learned to speak English and never had anymore children after his American father, who he didn’t remember, abandoned them once Derrick was born. Like nearly every other teenager in his tough neighborhood, he had taken to the streets where he stole, fought, and scraped to survive until a few weeks before his eighteenth birthday, when he had a chance encounter with Antonio “Tony” Viscolli on the street in front of a seedy bar in his neighborhood.
    Tony had seen something in him – what the man had seen, God alone knew. They came from the same place, more than a decade apart, and Derrick told Tony he would get out just like the older man had. For some reason, Tony had handed Derrick a business card, a note scrawled on the back that said, “Let him see me – no appointment required.” He told Derrick to come find him after he turned eighteen.
    Pulling himself back to the present, he stepped through the brass and glass revolving door etched with the intricate golden V emblematic of all the Viscolli companies and stepped into a life of opulence. His heels clicked on highly polished alabaster and deep emerald marble floors. Luxurious goat skin leather couches appointed all the sitting areas. They were set out in circular arrangements, perched atop Cardassian silk Persian rugs that warmed the rich marble floors. On one side, doors led to the shops and amenities offered by the hotel. On the other side, doors led to the restaurant. The same V crest, trimmed with brass – hand polished to a golden gleam – adorned the black marble front desk. On the wall behind the desk, gold letters formed the words, “ Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men. Colossians 3:23 ” Derrick had long ago hidden those words away in his heart, repeating them to himself often.
    Employees wearing distinctive uniforms moved invisibly through the throng of customers and clients, making sure they met needs and answered questions all quite quickly, professionally, and discreetly. The guests stood out of this crowd – tailored, accessorized, groomed, and coiffed to perfection.
    Ten years ago, the warmth of the lobby had been his first sensation. The luxury seemed surreal. He’d felt out of place. He’d stolen the Charlie tokens to get there and his stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten in two days and hadn’t bathed in longer than that. The desk clerk had read the note on the card and directed him to the elevators with a friendly smile.
    Now, ten years later, he returned the greetings of those who recognized him, both clientele and employees, as he made his way to the bank of elevators. While he waited, he spoke with a Baron and Baroness, visiting from Great Britain, who had spent a stint in the New York Viscolli the previous week. He felt at ease with the conversation, one of the talents required to interact with so many different people on a daily basis. He could switch gears in conversations, remember names and little details, and still pay attention to everything going on around him, a necessity for his job.
    He left the Baron and his wife on the sixth floor and continued his journey upward, beyond the hotel proper and on into the business offices that formed the heart of Viscolli Enterprises.
    The receptionist sat