“Really?” Leonie says with mock curiosity, “The rumor is that the Bamford has pregnancy plans.”
“It’s all false,” another stylist pipes up, “With them, it’s always hard to tell what’s real and what’s a lie, but I heard that they’re divorcing. Rumor has it that Waylen doesn’t love her.”
“I think that’s true,” another stylist says, “As I was entering, I overheard some servants talking about how Waylen disciplined Leilani after she hurt his favorite dog last night.”
“I heard that Waylen stayed with the dog last night,” the makeup artist says.
“So he’s no better than a dog,” Leonie giggles, “That’s juicy.”
The sound of clapping comes from outside the door. Leilani enters the room, smiling enchantingly and clapping her hands together.
“That is quite juicy,” she says.
“Mrs. Bamford—” the gossiping stylists exclaim, awkwardly.
“What? Don’t you find Leonie funny?” Leilani asks coldly.
“She is,” the stylists say with confusion.
“Then why aren’t you laughing?”
Leilani sneers and looks at Leonie seated on a sofa.
“Leonie, why aren’t you laughing at your joke?” Leilani asks, “Is it because the powder is too thick for you to move your face?”
“What are you talking about?” Leonie curbs her anger and forces a smile, “They’re not wrong. Waylen did indeed spend the night with Lucky.”
“Is that so?” Leilani asks cooly.
Leonie didn’t expect Leilani to keep her composure and she pushes the powder brush away from her face in a fit of rage.
“Do you know who Lucky belongs to?” Leonie asks.
“I’m not interested in that information,” Leilani says, “I only know that you’re telling everyone that Waylen Bamford spent the night with a dog. One man and one dog. What are you possibly driving at?”
“Nothing,” Leonie says.
“Then what’s so juicy about him spending the night with Lucky?” Leilani asks.
Leonie doesn’t want to openly admit that she was implying scandalous things about Waylen.
She takes a long breath and says, “You’re best at arguing, I admit. But enjoy your victory while you can because your best days will soon be over.”
Leilani leaves the room laughing. In the kitchen, she makes herself a smoothie. Then she opens the fridge and sees the left-over quiche. Ice gathers in her eyes. She takes all of the quiches out of the fridge and throws it in the trash.
The news of Leilani taking over the Zuri Hotel has exploded overnight. By daybreak, a crowd had gathered outside the hotel gates. Gossip mongers and journalists rub shoulders, eager to get the inside scoop.
The news of the Zuri Hotel changing owners overnight is earth-shattering enough, but the news that Leilani Bamford has never worked or even studied hotel management has everyone abuzz. The crowd seems eager to watch the hotel fail and many are placing bets on how long the Zuri Hotel will stay open under Leilani’s management. Some wager it will make it a year, others say they doubt it will last another week.
“She’s here,” someone shouts.
The crowd turns to watch a red Ferrari stop in front of the hotel. The doorman opens the car door and Leilani steps out in a bright yellow suit. The crowd surges toward her, and journalists jam microphones and cameras toward her face.
“Mrs. Bamford, they say Zuri Hotel was a gift from your husband, is that true? Or is it part of a divorce settlement?” asks a reporter.
“It’s said you don’t have relevant experience,” says another, “Are you going to hire managers?”
The journalists flock around Leilani and make it difficult to move. Leilani had no idea the news would get out so fast. The security guards at the hotel gate create a distraction for the journalists and allow Leilani to push through the crowd.
Leilani looks ahead straight-faced. Her new assistant, Claire Wentworth, leads the way, “Mrs. Bamford, follow me.”
“Leilani is fine,” Leilani tells Claire.
“Okay, Leilani, this way,” the assistant says.
Once they have fought their way through the gates, everything becomes a lot quieter. The press is forced to stay outside the hotel.
The hotel has Roman-style pillars, a Swarovski crystal chandelier, and marble floors, all of which show great taste and sophistication. Despite the luxury, the large lobby is empty, save for a woman dressed in black behind the receptionist’s desk. Leilani recognizes the woman as Michelle Cindy.
“Leilani, your acquisition of the Zuri Hotel caused much of the staff to resign,” Claire explains, “The chain hotels owned by the Summers agreed to improve benefits for all staff, so many people transferred to those properties. The Summers have also launched some promotions in the other hotels, offering guests up to a week’s free stay. Besides, they’ve stolen some of the events planned for this hotel.”
“So basically they’re going to crush the Zuri Hotel?” Leilani asks.
“I think so,” Claire answers ruefully.
Leilani smiles casually as she couldn’t care less, and her confidence puzzles and terrifies Claire.
“I thought this mess would rattle her, but it seems like she expected it,” Claire thinks, “I can’t believe she’s not more worried, though.”
Leilani’s high heels echo across the marble floors as she approaches the reception desk.
“Welcome to Zuri Hotel, Mrs. Bamford,” Michelle smiles coldly.
She’d gladly go to one of the Summers’ other hotels if it weren’t for her contract and Waylen’s orders. The other hotels would pay her double what she’s making now. She has to admit that a part of her wants to stay and see how Leilani deals with the mess. Leilani glances at Michelle, but doesn’t have time to speak with her—she has more urgent matters to attend to.
Claire follows Leilani explaining, “We can’t leave the reception desk empty, so we’ve promoted Michelle from waitress to temporary receptionist.”
“How many employees are there?” Leilani asks.
“No more than thirty,” Claire answers, “And many of our shareholders are hurrying to sell.”
Leilani anticipated all of this.
Calmly she asks Claire, “Why didn’t you leave too?”
“I’ve been here for six years and I got used to working here.”
Leilani examines the other woman. Claire has short-cropped hair and a plain face. She wears a simple black skirt-suit. She’s not an attractive woman, but she does look capable and professional.
“I want all the staff doc.u.ments sent to my office. And ask the head of HR to see me,” Leilani commands.
“No problem. We’re also scheduled to shoot some promotional footage later today. Do you want to visit the shoot later?”
Leilani nods and gets into the elevator. She and Claire rise to her office on the 28th floor of the hotel.
They walk through the long and intricate corridor and Leilani can’t help but notice the stylish and tasteful design. The walls and ceilings are decorated with stained glass. Sunlight comes through the windows and reflects an array of colors. Leilani loves the rich colors and the quality of the glass. It’s quite similar to her dressing room.
“Miss Diana Summers designed this place. She used to work as a top interior designer,” Claire says.
“Diana Summers,” Leilani thinks, “There’s that name again.”
“Diana Summers?” Leilani asks aloud.
“Yes. I believe she’s currently traveling abroad to study hotel management,” Claire says, “I think her design is superb. Look at the boldness of the colors in the stained glass. They say it’s incredibly difficult to get them that rich.”
Leilani suddenly stops and turns to Claire with an intrigued expression, “Do you know Diana well?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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