Chapter Eleven
The anger Chip had felt toward Claire was now redirected where it belonged – at himself. He laid in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling and simmering in his thoughts. Self-loathing was nothing new to him, though it had been some time since he’d felt this angry at himself.
After moving to Orcas, he’d managed to make the right choices – most of the time. His history, however, held an unfortunate period where he was often full of anger and regret. It was an awful, perpetual state and Chip lived like that, muddled and confused, for many years.
He’d managed to snap out of it this time, though, and his dip into that old darkness was brief.
Chip now realized how silly it was for him to project the hotel’s failings onto Claire. She’d only just gotten there. He was the one who’d been working there for years. It was his problem that he could never get Steve to listen, or that Steve never agreed to make the improvements the hotel needed.
Also, it’d been a tough few years for the hotel industry. As lovely as it was, even The Grand Madrona couldn’t escape reality.
Miraculously, it seemed that his relationship with Claire wasn’t ruined. She was far from the unreasonable villain he’d made her out to be, and he was humbled by her – by her grace and her kindness.
Now his biggest issue would be calming the unprofessional giddiness he felt when he thought of her. No need to make a fool of himself again.
He reported to his office early the next morning and managed to sort out two issues before the clock even struck nine.
The first had to do with housekeeping. They’d recently invested in a new program where the housekeepers could create their own schedule. It allowed for greater flexibility and less oversight, which Chip thought was great.
However, some of the staff still struggled with locking themselves out of the system every few days. Chip was the go-to for fixing that, as well as restoring the backup when the schedule kept being inexplicably deleted.
The second issue stemmed from a guest complaint. Chip found the gentleman at the front desk, suitcase in hand, gesticulating wildly at an immovable Gigi.
It took Chip almost ten minutes to figure out what the problem was – an accusation that the hotel had lost the man’s reservation.
They had several rooms open, so it wasn’t a true problem, but the man kept saying that this was a “sign of things to come” and that he’d like to be offered a complementary night or two to make up for the inconvenience.
When the guest couldn’t remember what type of suite he’d booked, Chip followed a hunch and called around to the other resorts on Orcas Island. He quickly found the man’s reservation at Rosario Resort, down the road. It was a lovely place, but it wasn’t the Grand Madrona.
The would-be guest sheepishly thanked Chip for his help and escaped to his car without another word.
Chip then breezed into the Plum Spoon to discuss next month’s specials with the chef. On his way out, he caught sight of Claire and waved.
Her face brightened into a smile when she saw him. Almost immediately, the man next to her grabbed her elbow and turned her around, calling her attention to the far side of the room.
As Chip approached them, he heard the man say, “The windows are the eyes to the soul, and therefore, the souls to the room. Don’t you see?”
Claire bit her lip. “Ah, yes.”
“Good morning,” Chip announced from behind them.
Claire spun around. “Hi! Chip, this is Ken Gallon. Ken, Chip is my general manager and revenue manager.”
Ken looked him up and down, nodding. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Nice to meet you,” Chip replied. He decided against offering a handshake, mostly because Ken’s arms remained firmly crossed.
“How unusual for one person to be both the general managerandthe revenue manager,” Ken said. “What kind of struggle do you find in your role?”
What kind of struggle did he find? Was that a phrase from one of his hospitality books?
Chip frowned, but stopped himself from responding brusquely. He was far more familiar with Ken’s type – a snob – than he was with Claire’s. He still didn’t quite know who Claire was.
“I wouldn’t say I have any struggle at all,” Chip said. “I’ve grown into both roles over the last ten years here.”
“Oh, how nice.” Ken smiled briefly, his nose scrunching like a rabbit.
Claire cleared her throat. “Are you free today, Chip? I thought we could all talk through some ideas.”
