Page 78 of Without a Hitch
“I have stayed at your hotels before though.” I lift a brow to see if she’ll continue. “From everything I’ve gathered, you’re a good employer. You raise industry standards for all your competitors. I admire that about you. From housekeeping to the concierge, you’re invested in their well-being even if you do actively keep yourself apart from them. Most large chains can’t say that.”
Pride blooms in my chest. Not because of my work, but from her praise of it. I know I work tirelessly to be the best. Hearing Tilly compliment that hard work is a reward I didn’t know I was seeking.
“Thank you. Employee morale is important to me,” I say quietly. I’m unable to keep from glaring at the candy bowls to my right. This conversation has me on edge and the urge to make sure the candies are sorted into the correct containers is all-consuming.
A loud song startles me. My phone vibrates as a woman sings, the last word in the lyrics is “lover” before it starts again. I raise a brow at Tilly. I’d had my phone on silent until this flight.
“What did you do?” I ask lightly. My cheek twitches as I attempt to suppress a grin.
“You told me once that you don’t listen to music, so I changed your ringtone. Taylor Swift’s ‘Lover’ seemed appropriate.” She studies me, smiling, but her eyes are troubled.
“You’re right. I don’t listen to music. It’s distracting, I guess. I’m a singularly focused man.” My gaze rakes over her body, and the hairs on my arms stand on end. She’s a live wire, all right.
“What about when you were younger?”
I think for a moment. My father loves music. My mother too. It always played at their homes, but I can’t remember anything about it. I shrug. “I’m sure it’s been around, but it’s not like I have a favorite song or anything. I probably wouldn’t even be able to name a song that’s been popular in my lifetime.”
Tilly gasps. “That cannot be true.”
“Why not?” The way she stares at me makes my spine tingle, so I reach over to the table at my side. Five tiny candy bowls house my pre-separated treats, and I take my time pulling one from each.
“Skittles? Again?” She’s amused. I’m embarrassed. Not many people in my life know about this slightly compulsive habit of mine.
“I like them.”
Of course, she doesn’t drop it. Standing, she inspects the candy. “You’re very…organized.”
It’s not a question, so I don’t reply.
“You like things a certain way.”
Again, not a question. Instead, I watch her as she tries to understand my quirks.
“Is it a control thing? You take one of each, but never more? Do you have a favorite?”
“Yes. I take one of each. I like the green ones.”
“So, you never just take a handful of green?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because then I’d be left with a bowl of yellows. And yellows are my least favorite.”
“It’s about being fair…to the Skittles?”
“It’s about taking what you need and not overindulging.”
I watch as she moves closer to the table. She reaches in and grabs a few green candies with her gaze on me, but drops them into the red bowl. My eye spasms, but I say nothing. It’s just candy. She takes a few oranges and eats them. I make a mental note to add more orange to keep it even.
Then, like a literal kid in a candy store, she darts to the bowls and mixes them all up so much like Nova that I almost laugh. The entire incident takes just a few seconds.
She sits back down with a huge, satisfied smile.
Even though my hands fidget with the need to sort the candy, I have more self-control than that today.Is she the reason why?
“So, your flights are silent, then?” she asks as if she didn’t just throw a temper tantrum with my candy.
