: Chapter 20

She looked up from her desk to see him standing in her doorway, grinning from ear to ear. ‘What’s up?’ she asked, noting the abrupt change in his normal demeanor. It was unusual to see the dour Mr. Hudson happy about anything, especially during working hours.

‘I, single-handedly, and with my usual savvy, panache, and skill, have solved all your problems!’ he announced, looking smug.

Uh oh! ‘What did you do?’ She didn’t look pleased…she looked apprehensive.

‘I just ordered the wines!’

‘You did?’ A strange feeling of foreboding settled in the pit of her stomach.

‘I got three cases of champagne, that’s 36 bottles, which should be plenty, and twelve cases of wine.’

‘Twelve cases of wine? That’s 144 bottles!’ Sylvie paled. ‘Oh my God! Please tell me you’re joking. Please tell me you didn’t do this to me. I told you I had a budget. I can’t afford this. I could barely afford the boxed wine!’ She looked like she was about to burst into tears.

‘Don’t worry. I came in under budget. It was only $790.’

Her eyes were shooting daggers. ‘How much did this actually cost?’ She was so angry her hands were shaking.

‘I told you,’ he said testily, ‘$790! Want to see the invoices?’

‘You’re telling me you bought,’ she paused to do the arithmetic in her head, ‘180 bottles of wine for that little. That’s only what, $4 a bottle?’ She shook her head. ‘That’s not possible!’

‘Of course it is! Wholesalers often give deep discounts on new wines they’re trying to push to restaurants and liquor stores and even deeper discounts to the companies they frequently do business with and who regularly make large purchases. All I did was arrange to have your order piggybacked onto a larger existing order. You’re getting six cases each of Pinot Noir and Pinot Grigio from a new vintner in California. The man I spoke to said he’d tasted them and that they’re exceptionally good wines for the price. The champagne is Great Western Brut. It’s bottled in New York some place in the Finger Lakes. I’m told it’s the first American champagne ever to win a major European tasting competition. Back in the 1800s some time. I’ve never tasted it, but the guy said it’s a really popular brand.’

‘Why didn’t you just buy the boxed wine?’ she lashed out at him.

‘Because these wines are better than what you can get in a box and with the discounts they’re cheaper. That’s why!’

She didn’t know whether to believe him or not. She eyed him suspiciously. Connor was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar. At least she didn’t think he was. ‘I want to see the bill!’ she demanded. ‘Swear to me you didn’t pay for any part of this?’

‘Not a red cent,’ he assured her. ‘You’re picking up the total tab!’

‘You promise?’ She didn’t feel right about taking things from him. Especially money she hadn’t earned. She didn’t want to be beholden!

He rolled his eyes. ‘Why are you so surprised by all this? It’s not a big deal. Welcome to corporate America. The wholesaler was more than happy to help out. In fact, I was told he fell all over himself, slashing prices when he realized I was personally involved. He’s never dealt with me, I’m too far up the food chain; but he deals with my people on a day-to-day basis and knows damn well how many businesses I control or have an interest in. They represent approximately a third of his total business. Fifteen cases of wine are a drop in the bucket to him. The cost of doing business. We buy a few thousand cases a week to stock all our establishments. Thus, he was happy to grant us this little favor. He knows my employees and I won’t forget it and will be kindly disposed toward him in the future. That translates into more business directed his way and more money in his pocket. You’re happy. He’s happy. It’s all good! So I think that instead of the prickly attitude, which by the way you can shitcan, you might want to try a little gratitude here,’ he warned, frowning.

Sylvie hadn’t asked for his help. Had neither expected nor wanted it. But Connor liked being in charge, in control, especially where Sylvie was concerned. Was it any wonder then that he’d taken over? He intended to run the show, whether she wanted him to or not. Still, he’d stayed within her budget. $790 was a lot of money to her, even if he considered it only pocket change. He did her a big favor and how does she repay his kindness? By acting like an ungrateful bitch. Instead of showering him with kisses, she rakes him over the coals and gives him the third degree. Sylvie breathed in deeply. ‘Thank you Connor. I’m sorry you think I’m ungrateful. I’m not! I truly appreciate your doing this for me. It’s one less thing I have to contend with. I’ll give you a postdated check. Is that OK? You can cash it Friday.’

‘That’ll be fine,’ he assured her. ‘I’m not worried about it.’

‘But I am,’ she countered. ‘I want to pay my debts.

He shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’ Sylvie drove him nuts. Not a pot to piss in and yet she insisted on paying him back immediately. He didn’t want her money, but if he told her that she’d get all huffy and wouldn’t take the wine. He’d just neglect to cash the check and deal with the fallout later, when she wasn’t so overwhelmed. He knew a lot of women and not a one of them would behave like this. They’d have allowed him to pay for the wine, gladly accepting his largesse, then connive to wangle higher priced, better quality brands. But Sylvie, God love her, was the total opposite. The girl seemed to take it as a personal affront that he’d interceded on her behalf. Poor but proud, she insisted on paying her own way. She didn’t want to take anything from anyone, especially not him. Admirable to be sure, but very foolish! He tried to understand her reluctance, but couldn’t. She had this thing about him being wealthy and paying for everything. She would insist on spending her own money to buy the fixings to make him a special dinner or bake him a pie or a cake. Knowing damn well that all she had to do was tell Mrs.Cosgrove and it would be added to the weekly grocery list and paid for out of the household accounts.

But the wine was only the warm-up round. Wait till she heard about the honeymoon! He gave her a doubtful smile, readying himself for the blowback. He sucked in a deep breath. ‘I’ve come up with three places out of the country for them to go that don’t require passports, just a driver’s license: El Paraíso on the island of Vieques off Puerto Rico and the Paraiso Boutique Hotels on St. John and St. Croix in the U.S. Virgin Islands. In the states they could go to the Paraiso in Miami, South Beach, Marco Island, Orlando, or Key West in Florida. Or the Paraiso California hotels in San Diego, Santa Barbara, La Jolla, or Palm Springs. There are also a couple of cottages in Martha’s Vineyard available and twelve hotels in New York City where they could stay. But I figured Miss Kimmel has already seen New York plenty of times and might want to try someplace new. And the Martha’s Vineyard places are nice but not on a par with the accommodations at the hotels. So where do you think they’d like to go?’ he asked, studying her expression. She wasn’t smiling; instead her jaw was twitching. ‘I contacted the person that does our corporate travel arrangements. She says she can get them seats on flights leaving Rochester late Sunday afternoon to any of the destinations. Returning 5 days later for the stateside resorts. And six days later for the ones out of the country since they’ll have to layover in Florida Sunday night and fly out the following morning. So where are they off to?’

Sylvie’s eyes were wide, her mouth gaping open. She’d heard of the Paraiso chain. They were known for their laid-back, casual, upscale ambience. They were also expensive! Very expensive! She didn’t know that she and her siblings could afford it. ‘This is very nice of you; but honestly, the Paraiso hotels are a little out of our league cost-wise. Even if Sara, my brothers, and I each put $500 toward their honeymoon I’m not sure it would be enough to cover the cost of the flights and a decent hotel in the states, let alone out of the country. And definitely not at a Paraiso!’ she explained. ‘Maybe with a different hotel chain we could? Something much cheaper,’ she said, thinking out loud. ‘Not too cheap though. That would be a mistake. We want them to start their marriage off on the right foot. Not in some cut-rate fleabag! They’ve got enough problems to overcome as it is!’

‘You don’t need to worry about the cost of the hotel. You’d be getting the off-season employee discounted rate for the hotels in the Caribbean and Florida. And the standard employee discount for the places in California. I own the Paraiso chain. There are rooms designated at each resort for use by employees and their families. It’s a perk of the job,’ he stated matter-of-factly.

‘You’re pulling my leg, right? I get a discount just for working for you?’ she asked in stunned disbelief. She switched to a new screen and typed in a search for the Paraiso on St. John. She clicked on the link and her screen exploded with pictures: a sunlit beach, swaying palms, azure blue water, huge king size beds in sumptuously decorated rooms with balconies overlooking the sea, a crystal clear infinitely pool, and breathtaking pink and orange sunsets. It was absolutely gorgeous, a veritable island paradise. Then she checked the room rates and her heart sank. ‘Wait. These rooms start at $450 a night! How much is the discount?’

‘Since summer is the slow season, employees only pay $50 a day to cover the cost of maid and linen service, electricity, hot water and AC.’

She stiffened. ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ she said curtly, turning her attention back to her work.

‘Why?’ he demanded. Connor shouldn’t be surprised at her refusal. It was just like her to look a gift horse in the mouth! She was infuriating!

Sylvie turned to glare at him. ‘My family doesn’t need your charity Connor!’ she hissed.

‘It’s not charity. It’s available to all the employees that work at corporate headquarters in New York or for the publishing company and its subsidiaries. I’m not offering you anything my other employees aren’t getting too. We’d rather have the rooms occupied during low season than sitting empty. If you wanted to send them to California, that would be another story because there the rates go up in summer and you’d be paying five times as much. Will you stop busting my balls here? You act like I’m a scumbag for trying to help. I would have thought you’d be pleased. Obviously you’ve missed our commercials. Paraiso specializes in destination weddings and honeymoons. You want to give your father and his bride a good start; don’t you?’

‘Yes, but I don’t want…’ he never let her finish.

‘No buts Sylvie. This isn’t about you or what you want. It’s about your Dad and Miss Kimmel. A honeymoon should be the trip of a lifetime: exotic, romantic, with balmy breezes, in beautiful surroundings. A place to make memories that will last a lifetime. I’m not going to allow you to deny them this opportunity just because you’re trying to prove some stupid point. If you won’t discuss the matter with me, give me your sister’s number, and I’ll talk to her. I’m sure she’ll listen to reason!’

Sylvie’s mouth opened and closed like a trout’s. She wanted to tell him to go to hell! To take his hotels and his money and shove them! But no words came out. Her fury quickly abated. He was right and she knew it. Contrite, she couldn’t look at him.

‘Everybody gets this?’ she asked tentatively, peeking up at him through thick lashes.

‘Absolutely,’ he assured her. ‘If you don’t believe me call Human Services and ask for someone named Kelly or Kylie. I think she’s an administrative assistant there. She had her wedding in St. John a year ago in June. We gave her the employee discount on twenty rooms. That’s the most we’ve ever done. I know because I had to personally sign off on it.’

‘Oh.’ she said, her face turning pink. Embarrassed that she’d doubted him.

‘I’m not trying to buy your affection, if that’s what you think. You’re not a kept woman. You’re my friend. Please let me do this for you?’

She nodded and launched herself into his arms.

He held her tightly, bestowing a kiss on her forehead. ‘So where’s it to be?’

‘I think St. John. It looks so beautiful…the beaches, the palm trees. What do you think?’

‘Sounds perfect to me.’ He released her and stepped back. ‘How are you coming with the story?’

‘I’m finished with the edits,’ she said, grabbing the file on the corner of her desk.

‘Wonderful, then unless there’s anything else, we’re done for the day.’

‘Well, there is something. I didn’t mention it before, but I think you’ve got a stalker.’

‘A stalker really? Who?’

‘Some woman who keeps calling here. Her name is Erna or Irma Shaw, something like that. She says she’s a reporter for a paper in Rockland County. She wants to interview you. She’s called six times already, though for the life of me I can’t figure out where she got the number. I keep telling her you don’t do interviews, but she won’t take no for an answer. She called again a little while ago and said to tell you it was important. She demanded to speak to you immediately. Said it was a matter of life and death. She was yelling and really belligerent this time. What do you think I should do?’

‘What do I think? I think she’s just another whack job. Ignore her! Now go ahead and shut down. I’ve got a surprise for you.’

‘What?’

‘We’ll talk about it on the way to Walmart.’ He looked around her desk at all the dildos and butt plugs. He picked up one of the dildos and gave her a devilishly sexy grin. ‘Maybe we should play with one of your paperweights tonight. Hmmm?’ He put it down, then picked up the blue butt plug. ‘Or maybe this,’ he said holding it up for her to see.

She blushed. She didn’t like the sound of that.

‘Yes, I think this’ll be perfect.’ He shoved it into his pants pocket. ‘Come along my sweet. Time’s a-wastin’!’