Hard Work Read online

  My dad had died when I was ten, and ever since then, she’d tried to fill whatever hole in her heart that he’d left with that goddamned inn. I was constantly being introduced to new employees, and when they inevitably left, it was always devastating to my mother. As if anyone wanted to work in the service industry forever, other than her.

  I punched my steering wheel as I let go of that memory and focused on the present. Her idea was ridiculous. What was I supposed to gain from a year in that shit hole other than an even deeper loathing of it and Vermont as a whole? It was just like my mother to leave the world with one more annoying task on her list for me.

  Putting the car into drive, I peeled away from the curb with another angry punch to the steering wheel that left my hand throbbing. I drove to the last place I wanted to be for even a minute, let alone an entire year, so that I could claim my rightful inheritance.

  It was just a year. How bad could that be, right?

  A year in a bed and breakfast in Vermont.

  God help me.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Becca

  I slowly drove up the road that wound its way up the mountain towards The Gilford House Inn, admiring the foliage around me. Red and orange leaves floated down onto my car in a scene of vibrant autumn color. All the best hues of the fall season were out in force on the mountainside as I breathed in the fresh air deeply into my lungs and headed towards my getaway.

  I’d picked a great time of the year to get away. Few things in this world were more wonderful than autumn in New England. The gorgeous colors nature put on display combined with the crisp scents the mountains offered couldn’t be beat.

  Living in Manhattan amid the rat race of New York City had always felt right from the moment I set foot in the city after college, but I hadn’t taken the time to step back away from work in far too long. I needed a break, and there was no better place than my favorite country inn.

  It was way too easy to let myself get caught up in work for months, even years, on end without giving myself a proper break, but my assistant who doubled as my best friend had finally convinced me that I needed to get out of town for a while and clear my mind.

  As she’d put it, “If you walk in that door one more morning, I’m going to carry you out myself. All our projects are caught up, and it’s the best time to get away, so please, please go get some rest for yourself!”

  She always worried about me, and after some thought, I decided she was right. I needed a break and my favorite little inn tucked away in the mountains of Vermont was the perfect place to get it.

  The road gave way to a small gravel parking lot filled with more leaves than gravel at that point in the year. I got out and grabbed my bags, smiling up at the building in front of me. The Gilford House Inn was an enormous white farmhouse style home with a huge wrap-around porch that looked like it had been there since the first Vermont settlers had put down roots and called the area home. It sat atop the mountain like a proud woman, welcoming people to the countryside around it. No matter how much wind, rain, and snow came her way, she never seemed to change at all.

  As I walked up the old wooden steps to the front entrance, I grinned as I thought of the creaking that would sound as I took the top stair. My foot landed, and I heard that old, familiar squeak like a welcome back. With a contented sigh, I opened the front door and walked inside.

  I’d only met the owner of the inn once and had been tremendously saddened to hear that she’d passed away when my travel agent had mentioned it to me while I was booking my trip. Still, that one meeting sat in my mind as a wonderful memory, and I was immediately aware that she had given the inn much of its lovely personality and warmth. She’d been a bubbly and kind woman who so very clearly adored that inn as more than a building or just a business.

  She’d spoken of her inn as though it was her child and had been glowing and excited to brag about all the best people she employed there. I remembered her referring to them as family, and it had warmed my heart to know they had such a fantastic employer.

  I walked across the soft carpet toward the large check-in desk and idly wondered to myself if new owners had taken over the inn. Nothing seemed like it had changed much, but I’d only just arrived and couldn’t be sure.

  Looking to my left, I saw the dining room still looked the same, which made me happy since I usually spent a lot of time there if not in my room. All the dark mahogany wood glowed as if it had been freshly polished, and the delicious smell of food wafted through the air.

  My travel agent had promised things would be the same as usual, and it looked like she’d been right. I crossed my fingers in hopes that it would be the wonderfully relaxing experience I’d grown accustomed to there.

  I stopped at the check-in desk and smiled to myself as I glanced around. Whether new people owned it or not, The Gilford House Inn had been kept the same way it had always looked, and I loved it. The same deep red carpet covered the floor, and the walls were just the right shade of eggshell white to soften the room while sun streamed in through the tall windows on the far wall.

  The inn had a coziness to it that always made me smile, like climbing into bed on a chilly day always felt to me. The accents and railings were all cherry mahogany wood. It was clear as day that a woman had designed the place. A man would have filled it with harsher colors like silver and black instead of the warm and welcoming colors of nature that wrapped you in their embrace as you entered.

  I liked that.

  If I wanted to stay at a cold and stark looking hotel on my vacation, I could have had my pick of any of the big names in the area, but that wasn’t for me. I wanted some real personality and love in my vacation home away from home.

  The young woman at the desk smiled at me and checked me in before giving me the familiar Gilford House Inn speech about times the food would be served and the various activities I could enjoy on the grounds or in town before sending me on my way. It didn’t matter how many times I’d heard it. I always liked that little speech. It ended with a sincere welcome to the place, and a small gift bag containing some pamphlets for local attractions and three maple leaf candies perfect for my sweet tooth.

  I walked up the staircase on the other side of the dining room toward my third floor room. Pictures of the owner and her staff on the grounds doing various activities decorated the walls up the stairs. The pictures had been there as long as I could remember, and the one I liked the most featured the workers and her outside at a picnic with a large banner that said “Staff Appreciation Day” over the heads of everyone gathered for a group picture. Every person in the picture smiled warmly, and in the center stood a beaming woman being hugged by a few of the staff. Too many places didn’t do that for their employees anymore, and I made a mental note to throw a party for my own staff soon. They deserved it, and it would probably be a blast, though I hoped someone else had better barbecuing skills than I did.

  When I reached the third floor, nearby I heard a man berating a woman I could hear sniffling. I turned the corner and took in the scene before me. Like a child being scolded by an angry father, the maid trembled as she picked up sheets and towels scattered on the floor around her while the man barked at her.

  “How hard is it to just do your damned job? Are you incapable of even the most basic tasks?”

  “I didn’t mean to mess up again, Mr. Gilford,” the woman said quietly as she stood up, her arms full.

  “Seriously? How hard can it be to simply walk into a room, deposit towels, wipe shit down, and walk the fuck back out again? You aren’t even the only cleaner. Your only job is to pick up old towels and put new ones down and wipe some things, and you have a fucking co-worker helping you! A trained monkey could do your job with more efficiency and fewer tears!”

  “I’m sorry…Mr…”

  “Oh, here we go again with the I’m sorry business. Can you drop the crocodile tears act for a second and just listen? How is the entire second floor still out of towels? I’ve got people up my ass
all morning about needing towels, and you’re up here, a floor away, goofing off. Why?”

  I stepped forward and put my hand up in front of the man’s face. “Stop treating her like that,” I said as I leaned my bags against the wall and bent down to help her pick up more of the linens.

  The woman, whose name I assumed was Sue from her name tag, glanced at me with a grateful look in her eyes but she was obviously too scared to thank me given the wrath she was receiving from the jackass looming above the two of us.

  “This is none of your business, lady. Go enjoy your stay elsewhere, if you don’t mind,” the man growled as I handed the woman the linens.

  Standing up, I leveled my gaze on him and wondered who this rude man could be. This definitely was a change from what the inn had been when that lovely woman had owned it.

  “I’m sorry. What’s your name?” he asked, his eyes roaming from my face down my body and his tone dripping with sugary sweetness, even as how rude he had just been to the maid hung in the air around us.

  Even his body language changed as he shifted his weight so his body faced me and let his arms fall to his sides in a less threatening and more flirtatious manner. It was a little stunning and quite unnerving to see someone switch drastic gears so quickly, and it was the furthest thing from attractive.

  I pointed at his chest and said, “That’s irrelevant. You know what is relevant? The fact that this woman doesn’t deserve to be treated like dirt simply because her job is to make your bed and leave mints on where you rest your head.”

  Slowly, I saw a smile tug at the corners of the maid’s mouth. The man shook his head angrily before barking at her, “Just get out of here. Try not to mess anything else up. Fix the towel situation and start wiping down the dining room when you’re done. It looks filthy down there.”

  “Yes sir,” she muttered before scurrying off.

  He turned to speak to me, but I rolled my eyes and walked off towards my room, leaving him standing at the end of the hall looking like the jackass he’d just shown himself to be. I didn’t glance back and instead turned the corner to my room.

  As charming as my usual room on the floor below, the place I would spend the next few days and nights enveloped me in that lovely way only The Gilford House Inn could with its homey décor. The walls remained the warm tan color they’d always been, and beneath my feet was the dark hardwood floor with its imperfections and scratches I believed were original to the building. A mahogany sleigh bed positioned on one of the room’s long walls and the two cream colored Queen Anne chairs with a small table situated between them were the only pieces of furniture in the room, other than an armoire opposite the bed, but the room didn’t feel empty, despite there being ample space to move around.

  Settling in, I emptied my suitcase and put my clothes away before checking out the scenery from my window. Looking out, I admired the view of the mountainside as I struggled to enjoy it. Everything else about The Gilford House Inn had been pleasant, like always, but the uncomfortable scene I’d witnessed minutes earlier stayed with me.

  The biggest reason why I’d always loved coming to the inn was the peaceful and positive atmosphere that greeted me every time. The place contained a warmth and genuineness that had kept me coming back every single time. I now worried that had all but disappeared with the death of the previous owner.

  It was all just so disappointing, and I couldn’t help but wonder who had taken over since clearly they weren’t managing their staff well at all. The woman I had met would have never permitted anyone to speak so rudely to any of her staff or guests.

  There was simply no need to talk to someone like that in any circumstance, and especially not in public. I shuddered at the thought of anyone in their rooms hearing such nastiness going on and was disappointed that no one had come out to defend the poor girl except for me.

  But it wasn’t their responsibility to do that, so I couldn’t fault the invisible strangers sharing the floor with me too much. I hated seeing someone get bullied and pushed around as I had seen in the hallway. Being a maid didn’t mean you had to be treated like the dirt you cleaned up. Everyone deserved respect was a motto I had lived my life by, and it had gotten me far. That others like the awful man I’d had the displeasure of meeting couldn’t even muster up a tiny bit of respect for others truly bothered me.

  I changed into shorts and an old t-shirt I liked to wear to sleep and gazed out the window at the brightly colored leaves being tossed around by the wind. Was this trip to be my last to The Gilford House Inn? I hated to even think of it, but if what I had seen in the hallway was the new norm, I wanted no part of it. I could find that kind of treatment and behavior in the city.

  Lost in thought, I climbed into the comfortable queen sized bed and closed my eyes, eager to push out of my mind the events I’d witnessed. I let out a small sigh and settled my head onto the pillow, hoping the next day would be a vast improvement.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Zane

  For the past four years, every morning I woke up to a sexy woman in my bed and the sun shining through the windows in my bedroom. Now I woke to a room the average grandmother would have considered a bit much and an empty bed that was barely illuminated thanks to the near constant grey sky that seemed to exist above the inn. Worst of all, I woke up every day to someone pounding on my damn door needing something. It was awful.

  As I heard the irritating knock this morning, I sighed and got up to answer the door and ream out the person on the other side of it.

  “Yes?” I said as a short and exceptionally pregnant looking Asian woman trembled before me.

  “Sir, the kitchen shipment came in, and they need you to sign for it. I’m sorry.”

  I rolled my eyes and shut the door before yelling back at her, “I’ll be down when I’m down. He can wait.”

  It had been a month since my mother’s lawyer had given me the news that instead of just getting my inheritance that I’d have to run this damn place for a year, and I didn’t know how I was going to make it for another eleven months.

  Scrubbing the sleep from my face, I stared into the mirror and wished for time to fly by so I could return to my life out west. I slipped on a pair of pants and yesterday’s shirt and ran my fingers through my hair before going downstairs to sign the paper the delivery guy had for me.

  “Mondays, right?” he said, his tone far more chipper than it needed to be for seven in the morning.

  “Yeah,” I grunted before putting the paper in his hands and walking away.

  I left the kitchen to look at the dining room. Each table was set up and ready for breakfast, but other than that, it looked like any other restaurant before the customers arrived. Not that I gave much of a damn about dishes and what color the tablecloths should be.

  I grabbed some eggs and bacon from the buffet and took a seat at what had become my usual table in the corner. Halfway through my meal I could feel someone behind me, and I turned around slowly as I rolled my eyes.

  “What is it, Sue? Did you manage to ruin yet another load of linens?” I asked, my mouth still full of food as she stood wide-eyed staring at me.

  “No…no, sir. I…I just…”

  “What is it, Sue? Just spit it out. I’m trying to eat here.”

  “I just…I needed to ask if I can have a day off next month,” she said, annoying me with every syllable.

  “Why do you need a day off next month?” I asked before taking a long drink of coffee.

  “Well…I have this wedding…” she answered before looking down at the floor.

  “You know what, Sue. I couldn’t care less about what you do in your personal life. If you want the day off, talk to that old lady Kathy. She makes the schedule for the help.”

  “Yes sir…it’s just she told me to explain it to you and…”

  My breakfast ruined, I pushed the plate away and tried to pretend that I didn’t want to just get up and walk away from this conversation. “Just talk to Kathy, okay? Tell her I don’
t care why you have to have the day off.”

  She nodded, and with her lip quivering, ran away as fast as she could from me. Good. That was how I liked it. Every time one of the workers talked to me it felt like a migraine shot directly from my left eye straight to the back of my head.

  Fuck, it was going to be a long eleven months.

  I stood up from my breakfast, leaving the dishes behind, and headed to the back office to tackle the mountain of never-ending paperwork waiting for me on my desk. When I got there, one of the kitchen staff, a woman whose name escaped me at that moment, stood waiting for me. A homely thing, she had eyes that resembled a bug’s and always looked like someone had just shocked the hell out of her. Thankfully, we kept her in the back of the house.

  “Yes? What do you need?” I asked as I unlocked the office, pushing past her to take a seat in the uncomfortable office chair I kept meaning to replace.

  She looked around nervously and said, “Uh, Mr. Gilford, I’m sorry to be a bother, but I have to go home early today and won’t be able to make it in for the next week.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. Without her, I’d have to probably help out in the kitchen over the weekend, something I definitely did not want to do.

  “Are you sick?” I asked, not looking up from my computer as I mentally ran through the list of who I could call in to replace yet another lazy worker.

  “No sir. I just, I have to go home. It’s personal,” she squeaked out.

  For once, I wished I had one worker who could speak in a voice audible to the human ear. I looked at her, disgusted. “Listen, Nicole…”

  “It’s Noel.”

  “Noel, whatever. I don’t really care what personal issues you have. Leave them at the door when you come to work. When you’re here, you’re here. I can’t give you the time off so suddenly.”