Love Me Or Leave Me. Claudia Carroll

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       Chapter Two

       London, the present.

      ‘Miss Townsend? Miss Chloe Townsend?’

      ‘Yes, indeed,’ I smile brightly back. But then I’m a firm believer that when nervous, just look and act confident and effervescent on the outside, and sooner or later, the rest of the world will eventually believe the lie.

      ‘Rob McFayden from Ferndale Hotels,’ he nods back, giving me a firm, businesslike handshake. Strong, confident grip.

      ‘Good to meet you and thanks so much for coming along today, especially at short notice. Here, grab a seat.’

      I do as he says, but then Rob McFayden from Ferndale Hotels is someone you just automatically do what you’re told around. Even guests who’ve paid handsomely for the privilege, I’d hazard a guess.

      ‘Okay if I call you Chloe? Sorry, but as you probably know, I’m not so big on formality.’

      ‘Yes, that’s fine.’

      Not so big on formality? I think. Ha! Rob McFayden is famous for coming to work in jeans and trainers; almost like he was in such a rush to get there, he ended up sprinting. Rumour has it he’s frequently acted as impromptu doorman/receptionist and even barman on the rare occasions when he feels things aren’t being done snappily enough in his hotel chain. Received myth is that, at a wedding in his Parisian hotel, he once jumped in and acted as a sous-chef for the night, on account of they were one man short in the kitchen.

      Yup, an unpredictable man, by all accounts.

      ‘Great,’ he nods curtly back at me. The mighty Rob McFayden doesn’t even bother to sit behind his desk either, I notice, like would-be-employers usually do in interviews. Instead, he just rolls up his sleeves and perches casually on the edge of it, as if he’s already decided this meeting will take no longer than three minutes, so the application of his bum to the seat is just a waste of time.

      ‘So, I have your CV here, Chloe, and my HR team tell me it’s all looking pretty good. Well,’ he throws in briskly, ‘obviously it’s a glowing CV, otherwise, you’d hardly have got through my door in the first place.’

      ‘Well, emm … thank you,’ I smile tautly, although I’m not actually certain he meant it as a compliment.

      Suddenly, the nervy tension between us is shattered as his phone rings. He whips it out of his pocket, checks the number then rolls his eyes.

      ‘Sorry, but do you mind if I take this? It’s my Locations Manager in Italy and it’s more than likely an emergency.’ Then with a wry smile, he adds, ‘It inevitably is.’

      ‘Of course not,’ I smile overly brightly to compensate for sheer antsiness. ‘Please, go right ahead.’

      He takes the call, giving me the chance, for the first time, to really get a half-decent look at the guy. A lot younger than I’d have thought, is my initial impression. Early forties at most, salt and pepper slightly greying hair, long, skinny build. Well travelled, lean, all angles. One of those ectomorph body types you’d almost automatically take a dislike to, on account of they can probably eat all they like and never gain a single gram. Well, either that, or the man lives off fags.

      Then with a quick, businesslike, ‘well, let’s set up a meeting with the architect and I’ll see you in Milan on Thursday. We’ll pick this up then,’ he’s off the phone.

      ‘Apologies for that,’ he says, though not looking at me, instead totally focused on the CV in front of him, eyes darting busily up and down the page. ‘So I see you’ve been working at the Bloomsbury Square Hotel here in London for the past couple of years.’

      ‘Emm … yes,’ I answer brightly.

      ‘And you’re Reservations Manager there …’ he says absently, still scrutinizing the CV closely.

      ‘That’s right!’

      ‘In other words, Chloe,’ he says, pointedly using my name, ‘you’ve basically spent the last two years looking after high maintenance guests, unhappy that they weren’t allocated a panoramic view and dealing with complaints that the en-suite’s not big enough. That sort of thing, yeah?’

      I bristle a bit at this, mainly because my job involves a helluva lot more than just basic housekeeping.

      ‘Well, of course, that’s some of what my work entails, yes,’ I answer him, ‘but the job isn’t just about troubleshooting staffing issues and rotas, but ironing out countless unforeseen guest-related issues on virtually an hour-by-hour СКАЧАТЬ