Fraternize Me Page 7

  She marched over to Patricia, the cook, and planted her hands on her hips. “Change of plans. I’m going to need your help.”

  “Not in my kitchen.” Patricia crossed her arms in front of her ample breasts. “It’s in my contract. I don’t share the kitchen with anyone.”

  “It can’t be helped…and I’ll do the cooking. Just let me know if we have everything I’ll need.” She scanned the kitchen. What could she make that didn’t require an oven?

  One of her favorite dinners was one Gram and she always made together. Pancakes, eggs, and ham. For a kid, it almost made the day extra special when Gram insisted they eat their meals in reverse. Surely, she wasn’t the only one who enjoyed breakfast at the end of the day. She hoped cowboys were as easy to please.

  “What did Carol serve for breakfast this morning?” She hurried to the walk-in fridge.

  “It’s Saturday, that means it was pastry and fruit day.” Patricia sat on the stool. “What are you looking for?”

  “Eggs.” She carried a rack to the counter. Then she washed her hands in the sink. “Please tell me we have ham thawed?”

  “Sure. That’s on tomorrow night’s menu,” Patricia huffed.

  “Not anymore,” Ava grinned. “Let’s worry about that later. Right now, I want you to take four eggs, two cups of milk, a half a cup of flour, one tablespoon of sugar and multiply that by—she counted in her head—a hundred. That should get us started.”

  Patricia laughed. “If you’re making pancakes, you’ve got the recipe wrong, and wouldn’t it be easier to use the pre-mix in the back room?”

  “I’m not making normal pancakes. This’ll be fancier. I’m making Swedish pancakes. They are to die for…just wait and see.” She cracked an egg into the bowl, and picked up another to repeat the process. “Oh, make sure we have enough maple syrup.”

  “Girl. The men aren’t going to like being served a breakfast at night. These are big men. Men who expect meat and potatoes at every meal, not some froufrou pancakes.

  “Can’t be helped.” She lifted her chin. “I will not allow the guests to think that anything is wrong. I need this job and I can’t have a bunch of hungry cowboys on my hands.”

  “You’ve got guts. I gotta’ hand it to you.” Patricia walked off to gather supplies.

  A long three hours later, Ava removed the last pancake, spread butter on the flat surface, rolled it up, poured syrup over the top, and sprinkled powdered sugar along the row of pancakes on the plate. She scooped up a big helping of scrambled eggs, forked a ham steak and plopped it down on the warmed plate, and passed it down the counter to the service girl.

  “That’s it.” Ava grabbed the kitchen towel she’d tucked in her apron string. “We’re out of batter.”

  She stretched her back, her muscles protesting every move. Her feet throbbed, and her toes had grown numb an hour ago. She wished she'd had the good sense to change into a pair of sneakers before jumping in to plan dinner.

  “Get a load of this, Ava.” Patricia peeked out the swinging door into the dining room.

  She sighed. The last thing she needed to deal with were unhappy guests when she was already in a cranky mood. She squeezed against Patricia’s side, and gazed out into the room. All the men sat back in their chairs, talking and laughing.

  “Look at them,” Patricia said. “Most of them have their hands on their oversized stomachs and they’re wearing a look of complete satisfaction on their faces.”

  “Do you think I gave them all stomachaches?” She frowned and studied the center of each table. “Oh. My. God. They ate every bite of their meals.”

  “Yep, they sure did,” Patricia cackled. “What you’re looking at is a group of pleased men. The only other time you get that kind of reaction is when you satisfy a man in bed.”

  She found Hank in the crowd. He too had eased back in his chair, his hands linked behind his head as he talked with the other men at the table. She giggled. Would he look as pleased and content in bed? With her?

  Ava squealed, and hugged Patricia. “We did it. They don’t suspect a thing.”

  “Not us. You,” Patricia laughed. “If you don’t end up getting the hotel manager position, I’ll hire you to be my assistant.”

  “Deal!” Ava blew out her breath. “Thank you so much. I couldn’t have done it without your help and support.”

  “Anytime, girlfriend,” Patricia shrugged. “Go on with you. I’ll help the girls clean the kitchen up for the morning crew. You deserve a break.”

  Ava hurried into the bathroom. Flour covered the front of her dress, her hair, and her cheeks. After a fast scrub, she went out to check in with the other employees. Confident after giving the guests a successful dinner, she hoped her luck held with the rest of the hotel.

  Each one of the staff members stood silently in the front lobby waiting for her. They moved back, creating a path through the middle. She smiled, but everyone dropped his or her gaze.

  “Ava?” Sally held the phone out to her. “Mr. Holland is on the phone for you.”

  She covered her cheeks. Oh, no. I was supposed to call him this evening.

  “What time is it?” she mouthed.

  Sally held her arm out. She leaned over and read her watch. Eight thirty? Shoot. I’m late again.

  Chapter Ten

  Hank glared at George. “What do you mean, Ava cooked the dinner?”

  “That’s what happened, sir.” George held his hands in the air. “I removed the element in the oven the way you requested, but instead of calling a catering company or ordering food from a restaurant, Ava got busy making a meal from scratch. Even Patricia stood back and let her work her magic. Honestly, I don’t think anyone had the nerve to question her. She’s one determined lady when she sets her mind to doing something.”

  “Damn, she’s good.” Hank ran his fingers through his goatee. “I never expected her to do the work though. She’s probably exhausted.”

  “She is, sir,” George lowered his voice. “Her job is important to her.”

  Hank sighed. “Thanks, George. I hate to even ask if the next problem is already set up.”

  George hung his head. “I’ve already disconnected the batteries on the hotel shuttle van, but you do know this is going too far. If the guests who need to make it to the airport tomorrow don’t arrive on time, it’s not only going to cost Ava her job, but the hotel a lot of money.”

  Hank nodded. “I won’t let it go that far. I’ll make sure they get there, and everyone is happy.”

  “Very good.” George raised his head. “I’d better get back. It’s time for those on night shift to come in and for Ava to talk with us all.”

  After George left the suite, Hank stepped over to the mini fridge and removed a bottle of beer. Drake’s tests were unfair and too extreme. He tried to understand why Ava would have to prove herself to Drake, but he couldn’t rationalize the extreme evaluation.

  He understood guest satisfaction, but how often does the oven break down or employees refuse to show up for work? Ava never questioned any of the problems. She faced each one head on and took responsibility herself without inconveniencing others. He sure in the hell never expected her to cook dinner.

  The way she tried to handle everything herself made every catastrophe he performed twice as hard on her. He lifted the bottle and took a healthy swallow. What happened in her life that made her try so damn hard to be independent and succeed at everything?

  At twenty-two years old, he was all about playing hard and loose. He ran his thumb over the label on the beer. Not Ava though, her work ethic matched his own. It'd taken him years of learning the hard way that if he was going to get anything in life, he had to work his ass off. To Ava her dedication and drive came as second nature.

  When Drake came back, Hank was going to beat the crap out of him. He owed Ava that much. Drake was selfish, not only in his professional life, but with his family too. Hank pounded the table in frustration. He’d tried repeatedly over the years to convince Drak
e to reconnect with him, to call Dad once in a while, but Drake balked at every suggestion. Yet, if Drake needed help, Hank jumped, hoping Drake would see his willingness to help as a step forward to mend the rift in the family.

  It was time to be honest with himself though. Drake wasn’t going to change. The only thing Hank had accomplished was to dig a bigger hole. When Ava discovered his part in the evaluation, she’d never forgive him. He was starting to think pleasing Drake wasn’t worth the pain he was causing Ava.

  By the time he’d finished his beer, he’d decided to stop following Drake’s orders. Ava had earned her spot as manager at Holland Hotel. She’d made sure everything ran perfectly through dinner, and he didn’t have the heart to put the next catastrophe into action. She deserved to get off her feet and rest after the day she put in.

  His thoughts shifted to ways to repay her for her hard work. What would a woman with enough energy to fill a room want? A grin came fast and easy, but he had a feeling a night of wild sex wouldn’t be on her list the way it was on his.

  She deserved rest and relaxation. She’d become so focused on her job he’d have to force her to take time for herself. He sat forward. What he needed to do was convince her to spend more time with him. That way he’d get to know her better too.

  Time was of the essence. He called George on the hotel phone, filled him in, and passed on the message to have Sally stay two hours after her shift ended to convey any problems on to George, who could then contact him. He’d make sure things ran smoothly tonight.

  Happy over the new set of plans, he called Ava. He was taking a chance, but he thought he could still trick people into believing he was his brother.

  She picked up on the first ring. “Hello?”

  “Ava,” Hank spoke loud and fast the way his brother communicated. “It’s Drake Holland here. How are things going?”

  “Things are going well, Mr. Holland. But, you just talked to me a half hour ago. The cattlemen still seem to be enjoying themselves.”

  “Excellent. Since I...er last talked with you, I remembered that I’ve got something else for you.” He held the phone up in the air, yelled instructions to an imaginary maid about where to find his trousers, and returned to talking to Ava. “I’ve checked in with Sally, and she’s covering for you tomorrow night. Take the extra time off. You deserve it.”

  “Oh, sir…that’s not…”

  “I won’t have my best employees overworking themselves.” Hank clicked his tongue. “No arguments. I’ll have a bottle of wine sent to your suite. Enjoy yourself, rest, go out with a friend, or take a walk on the beach. Whatever you do, make sure you take time for yourself. I can’t have you burnt out. The last day of the convention is two days away. I’ll be back soon. I hope to have a good report from you, Ava.”

  “You will, sir.” She paused. “Thank you.”

  He hung up, chuckling. All these years, he never realized what a stuck up prick his brother sounded like. Not leaving any loose ends that might cause his plan to fail, he called George.

  “I need one more favor before you call it a night. Tomorrow night, I'm plotting a disaster and I'm going to be unable to stay in my room. I need you to convince Ava to let me stay in her suite." He waited for George to stop talking. “That’s right. I’ll take it from there. Oh, and George? Thanks.”

  Satisfied that he’d done his part of the agreement with Drake, all he had to do was make tomorrow's catastrophe up to Ava by making it possible for them to be together. He snatched a piece of chocolate out of the bowl, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth.

  Not only was Ava appealing, she had the staff’s adoration. He could almost see the pain it caused George to make Ava’s test unbearable. He tossed the wrapper on the table. What he couldn’t understand was Drake’s need to test his employees. It was one of the reasons he’d stayed out of the hotel business, and put all his energy into ranching. He enjoyed being outdoors, and only having to deal with the cattle.

  Between the cutthroats and the spies that worked their way into the hotel business, he had little patience to take the time to build up employee loyalty. Hell, he’d had the same foreman at the ranch for ten years. He ran the ranch by the belief that if you treat a person right, loyalty would naturally come your way. Then they sealed the bargain with a handshake, the old fashioned way.

  Nobody questioned Ava’s dedication. She about had a heart attack when she caught him in Drake’s private area, worked through her fears in the stuck elevator, and he’d never met a better problem solver. Hell, even Ripley liked her. He held up his hand and groaned. Two punctures on the top of his hand stood out. From now on, George could handle the demon dog. He’d feel terrible if Drake’s dog bit Ava.

  The phone rang. Hank cussed under his breath. What now?

  “Yeah?”

  “Hank?” His brother, Drake, cleared his throat. “Good. I’m glad you answered.”

  “I swear to God, you don’t deserve my help.” Hank sank down on the couch. “I’m about ready to pull out of screwin’ up Ava’s life. She’s a sweet woman, and you’re a sonofabitch for leaving her alone during orientation.”

  “She has you wrapped around her little finger too?” Drake chuckled. “That’s exactly why I want to see if she’s up for the job. When I’m there, she has a way of making me believe she’s a dream come true. She’s perfect as the manager of Holland Hotel, but she has zero experience. I don’t even know why I agreed to try her at the job, but she got to me. I couldn’t tell her no.”

  “You want her?” Hank frowned.

  “No…not at all.” Drake lowered his voice. “I’m seeing Dahlia again. She gave me an ultimatum. Either I go away with her this weekend, or she’s moving on to someone else.”

  “That’s why you’re not here?” He slammed his hand down on the couch. “I’m running my ass ragged, making a mess of Ava’s life, and causing hell at the hotel, so you can woo Dahlia back in your bed?”

  “No…”

  “Dammit, Drake. When are you going to stop and think about what you’re doing?”

  “You have no idea…like always.” Drake lowered his voice. “You were the one who lived with Dad, and…”

  “I don’t think you want to go there.” Hank stood up and paced. “In two days, I’m going back to the ranch. I’d suggest you get your ass back here before that if you have anything you’re concerned about.”

  He hung up on Drake’s protest. They shared a father, but that's where the similarities ended. Personality wise, they were complete opposites. He loved Theresa and respected her for taking care of another woman's child when she married dad, but she’d raised Drake to live on emotions and whatever object he fancied at any given time. Usually, he ran straight into trouble. Drake was in the habit of dropping everything to seek the next obsession. He should’ve dropped Dahlia last year when she strung him along until someone more profitable turned up.

  But the one thing Drake always held on tight to was the Hotel his mom left them. It worried Hank that if Drake weren’t careful, he’d lose that too.

  Even though Hank had no desire to saddle himself with wearing a suit and being charming every day, he wanted to see Drake succeed. He knew better than to go off chasing a super model and neglecting the hotel. He switched off the phone, disgusted with his brother.

  A knock came from the door. He grabbed another piece of candy before walking across the room to see what was happening now. The day was going downhill fast.

  He opened the door. “Hey, Turner, come on in.”

  “Thanks. Pete said you were staying up here in high-class comfort, you lucky dog. I hope you don’t mind if I stopped in.”

  Brad Turner owned the piece of property closest to the Holland ranch. He slapped Brad on the back. He couldn’t ask for a better neighbor.

  “Not at all. Sit down, take a load off,” he said. “Can I get you a beer?”

  “Nah,” Brad shook his head. “Thought I’d swing by and let you know my foreman called me an hour ago. You�
��ve got about twenty head on the wrong side of the fence, grazing Turner land. You're watching money slip away with each head of cattle that steps off the ranch, and I don't think you want to bring them back and lose your organic farming status.”

  “Shit.” He pulled out his phone again and checked to make sure it was on. “Why the hell hasn’t someone called me?”

  Brad tilted his head. “Your place is crawling with the guys from the state, and your dad’s busy showing them the rotations for this quarter. Panelli went ahead and patched the fence. My foreman saw what was going on, and moved the roamers into our herd to keep them out of sight.”

  “Thanks.” He shook his head. “Dammit. This conference is going to kill me. I should be home. I’ll give Panelli a call and have him find a buyer. I can’t take the loss back this late in the game. It’ll break my organic status.”

  “Hang on,” Brad stepped forward. “I’ll buy ‘em from you. It’ll save you extra work, and I can add them to my herd with no problem,” he winked. “They’ll be bulked up in no time.”

  The contrast between organic and non-organic herds was a hot topic amongst cattlemen. Hank had no argument with Brad buying a few heads from him. It took months, sometimes years, to fully convert from non-organic to organic. He’d put all his sweat and money into finally getting his beef stamped as organic. He wasn’t going to lose it all now.

  “Thanks, Brad.” He shook Brad’s hand. “I’ll cut you a helluva’ deal.”

  “Sounds good.” Brad walked to the door. “I’ll swing by your place in a few days, and we’ll make it even.”

  In the silence of his room, Hank ran his hands through his hair. What was happening? He’d taken care of everything before he left to come to the convention, or at least he thought he had.

  He walked into the bedroom and fell face first on the mattress. Torn between helping his brother, and wanting to drive back and take care of his own life, he stayed on the bed. He’d always blamed the fact that he was the oldest brother for his need to take care of Drake. He was done with that bullshit. It was time for Drake to grow up and take care of his own responsibilities.