written all over it.”
From Diana’s grimace-faking-it-as-a-smile, Belle figured the other woman might have some issues with the sex stuff. Leave it to Mitch to hire a prude as his assistant, Belle thought affectionately. But she’d brought him around, and she was sure she could bring Diana to accept the concept, as well.
With that in mind, she pulled a chair up close to the woman’s desk and leaned forward with her friendliest look.
“This must be fascinating,” she said conversationally. “Being in on the ground floor of opening such a great place. I mean, you’re surrounded by luxury, an incredible view and a hot boss. And once the place is open, it’ll be like free cable. The inside scoop on famous people and clandestine sex. Not a bad job, huh?”
Diana looked at her as if she was a two-headed dog and both sides were missing a brain. Uptight and no sense of humor? Poor Mitch.
“Or not,” Belle muttered, wondering if she had any common ground with this woman. She surveyed Diana’s polyester blouse, navy slacks and flat pleather sandals. Probably not.
Belle glanced at her watch and sighed. How much longer was Mitch going to be?
“So tell me, Diana, how’s the resort shaping up?” she asked after a few minutes of miserably uncomfortable silence. She didn’t really care about the answer but was desperate for some conversation.
“Falling apart is more like it,” the other woman mumbled into her computer screen.
“Beg pardon?”
Diana slanted her a sideways look and shrugged. “You know, it’s just one problem after another. I’ve never been in on the—how did you say it?—ground floor of a resort opening before. But I’d imagined it’d be a little smoother, if you know what I mean.”
Belle’s brows shot up. “You mean things like the sprinklers and construction hitches?”
Diana winced. “Sure, those and the gophers and the computer crashes and the laundry mix-up and the lost supplies and, well, I could keep going but you get my drift.”
Funny how the woman lost her quiet reserve when she was reciting all the resort’s issues. Belle frowned and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I’m sure that’s all part and parcel to opening a new venue.”
At least, she assumed it was. Her father’s hotels had never hit so many hitches, but then he’d been at it a long time. This was Mitch’s first hospitality venue, so maybe he just hadn’t found his stride yet?
“Maybe,” Diana agreed doubtfully. “I mean, I’ve heard such amazing things about Mr. Carter. He’s got a reputation for being such an expert.”
Diana’s tone made it clear that she wasn’t buying the rep any longer. Doubt washed over Belle. Was Mitch the guy to help her dad? She’d been so sure. As Diana said, he had a stellar reputation for being Mr. Amazing when it came to business. She frowned. Was that rep wrong?
“Can you excuse me for a minute?” she asked Diana. “If Mitch comes out, just let him know I had a call I forgot I have to make.”
“You can make it here,” Diana said, pointing to the phone.
“Um, no, thanks.” Belle waved her cell phone and gestured toward the hallway. “It’s...private.”
The other woman gave her an ohhh-one-of-those-calls look and shrugged.
Once alone, Belle punched a button and paced impatiently while waiting for Sierra to pick up.
“We might need to rethink a few things,” she said as soon as her partner answered.
“Which few?”
Belle explained the resort issues she’d discovered, both on her own and the ones Diana had shared. “So now I’m wondering if Mitch is really the right guy to help daddy.”
“What about the Eventually Yours gig? Do we need to pull out?”
Pull out? Belle considered the question. They couldn’t. They’d tied up a lot of time and energy in this project. If it went belly-up, they would definitely hurt. But not enough for her to consider ditching Mitch. He believed in the resort and had so much more at stake. She wanted to give him her support, even if he didn’t realize it. The only thing she was risking was her time and energy. Yes, Eventfully Yours might take a hit, but as long as she came up with some other idea to help her dad, she could handle it.
“I gave my word, I can’t back out.” Her fear of failure faded a little as she made the statement.
At Sierra’s snort she pulled the phone away from her ear and rolled her eyes.
“I’ve matured,” she claimed, talking into the speaker again.
“Matured my ass. You just want to get in his pants.”
“That’s beside