The Boss's Christmas Proposal. Allison Leigh

Grace leaned against the wall and studied Kimi. “Were you downstairs to look for Mr. Sherman?”

      Kimi had seen Mr. Sherman, who had knowingly sent her on a wild goose chase. Seemingly, she imagined, to keep her away from his sanctified staff meeting. “I was trying to check in with Human Resources. I arrived earlier than they were expecting, but I thought it would be good to get started right away.”

      “We need all the hands we can get,” Grace agreed. “But you found everyone already had gone. Hate it when that happens, don’t you?” The melodious chime sounded and they left the elevator. “I assume you haven’t had a proper tour of our facilities, yet? No. Well, through there is where the fitness center and the spa are located.” She pointed toward the smoked-glass doors that blocked off the elevator banks. “There’s also one of the indoor pools. It will be open for all guests of the hotel, whereas the pool that’s up on seventeen has an age restriction of sixteen years and up. This way, though, are our training rooms.” She headed in the opposite direction through a hidden doorway that was indistinguishable from the wooden-paneled wall around it. “Ordinarily, staff would only use the service elevators for access, of course. But there’s no harm in using the main elevators for today. There are several floors in the hotel that are not available to the guest elevators at all, of course. The engine floors, laundry, et cetera. Before long, you’ll have it all down pat.”

      Kimi was not so sure. Yes, she knew there were hundreds of things that went on behind the scenes of a hotel. She had just never before been part of it.

      Their footsteps were silent on the carpet as they approached the opened entrance to the training room through which Kimi could see the backs of dozens of people already sitting at the narrow rows of tables facing the front of the room.

      Facing Greg Sherman, who was witnessing their noticeably tardy arrival.

      His gaze barely paused on Kimi and Grace as he continued speaking to the crowd, his deep voice easily carrying throughout the large room.

      There were a few empty chairs there at the back of the room, and Kimi slipped into one as silently as possible while Grace headed toward the front of the room to take up a standing position near Shin Endo and another man whose face Kimi did not recognize from her research in Helen’s files. A ponytailed Asian girl sitting to Kimi’s right was busy taking notes in a three-ring binder. To Kimi’s left, a dark-skinned young man was holding a microcassette recorder.

      For a moment, she felt as if she were back in a lecture hall where every student was focused on the professor who could make or break their academic career with a swipe of his red pen.

      “You’ve all been issued your security codes,” Greg was saying. “Beginning Monday morning, you’ll be required to use them when entering or leaving through the staff entrance. Some of you who’ve been here longer than a week have had plenty of time getting used to moving around without them. As of now, that ends.” His gaze settled on Kimi’s face as the order was met with a few groans. “The crews working on the lobby interior are being stepped up. Our first guests arrive December 15. That’s fourteen days, people.”

      His gaze moved on, touching on nearly everyone and disproving her suspicion that he had been singling her out. “That’s not a lot of time, and it will take all of us working together to ensure that when those guests do arrive, they’re welcomed with every bit of luxury and excellence we want them to expect from the Taka brand. If you have a concern or a problem, you take it to your manager or to me. Remember that a hotel staff is a family. What happens in one department matters to all departments.”

      Kimi glanced around. Unless they were busy scribbling notes on the stapled packets that were at each seat, or on something else, the employees sitting at the narrow tables were giving Greg their rapt attention. Even she had to admit there was something mesmerizing about the way he spoke to them; as if they were all part of the conversation, rather than merely observant listeners.

      He went on, talking about upcoming training schedules and staff rotations and project meetings.

      Kimi leaned closer to the ponytail. “Do you have a spare pen?”

      Without taking her pinpointed attention away from Greg, the girl pulled a dark gold ballpoint pen printed with a navy-blue TAKA logo on it and slid it to Kimi.

      “Thank you,” she whispered. She quickly jotted down the points that Greg was making on the back side of the packet in front of her and had started on another page before he turned the meeting over to Shin, who gave them an update on the closed-circuit security system.

      “Our main concern is, of course, guest security,” the man said. “We’re not trying to police people’s normal behavior. But we will act when there’s a situation that seems to be developing. All points of entry and exit, the guest corridors and elevators, reception, will be on the circuit, which a team of security specialists will be monitoring 24/7. So any of you planning to catch a forbidden smoke outside on a fire escape be warned.” He looked around the room, his expression seeming far too good-natured for the tough-as-nails expert he was reputed to be. “You’ll be caught, and we’ll have your walking papers ready before you blow out your light.” There was a twittering of laughter around the room.

      Kimi watched Greg to see if he showed some amusement. Of course, he did not. Then, as if he had sensed her attention, he looked her way again. She felt her cheeks warm and hurriedly focused on her notes. Through sheer effort she refrained from looking at him again for the rest of the hour-long meeting.

      When the meeting concluded, a dozen of the women who had watched him adoringly throughout the meeting leapt from their seats to surround him with questions.

      She hid a smile at the idea that he had his very own set of hotel groupies and returned the pen to the ponytail—Sue, according to the distinctive, engraved name badge the girl wore. “I’m Kimi. Are you from Kyoto?”

      Sue shook her head. “San Francisco. From what I understand, there are only a few working here who are from Kyoto. The head of Housekeeping and a few men in Maintenance, I think. Other than that, we’re sort of a United Nations when it comes to ethnicities of the staff.”

      “It’s quite a leap from San Francisco to Kyoto.”

      “Not really. I started out at Taka San Francisco when it opened earlier this year but transferred here when I found out that he was the GM here.”

      Kimi glanced toward the “he” in question. Still surrounded by groupies. “You came to Japan because of Gr—Mr. Sherman?”

      Sue didn’t seem to see a single thing odd in that. “Of course.” She closed her binder and stood. Around them, those that were not clamoring for Greg Sherman’s attention were filing out of the room. “I’ll be in reception once we open, but for now am working in reservations. You?”

      “I don’t yet know, actually.” Helen had not offered that much detail. She would have, if she had known exactly what position Kimi would be filling.

      “What hotel do you come from?”

      “Well, none,” Kimi admitted with a smile. “This is my first assignment in a hotel.”

      Sue’s finely drawn eyebrows rose. “It’s Mr. Sherman’s policy that all staff members have at least three years’ previous experience in a first-class hotel. You must have been born under a lucky star.”

      “I don’t know about luck,” she demurred, inching toward the door. Her stomach was growling and her head was pounding from lack of sleep. “It was nice meeting you, Sue. I am sure I will see you around.”

      “Maybe you’ll be in reception.” The other girl smiled. “They expect pretty women at the front desk.”

      Somehow, Kimi doubted that Greg Sherman intended for her to be registering guests. More likely, he would stick her in a housekeeping uniform and arm her with rubber gloves and a toilet brush for having the audacity of wanting to work there at all.

      “Ms. Taka.”

      She