“Tessa is going to give me a full tour of the hotel.”

Langston’s—Ro’s—voice got my brain functioning again. I straightened. “Do Ms. Ellis and Mr. Castro need me to arrange anything for them? We have a small conference room they can use.”

“The conference room will be fine.” Piper cocked her head. “You have high-speed internet, right?”

I blinked. “Yes. We aren’t exactly in the middle of the wilderness.”

“Could have fooled me,” the woman muttered.

I glanced at Caden.

“I’d like to meet with your head of security.”

“Of course, Richard Deem. He’s been working here a very long time.” And mostly managed our security guards, and was looking forward to retirement. I filled in the rest regarding the security system, and Enzo helped, as well. The man was surprisingly good with cameras and computers.

I turned to Ro. “I’ll have the chef prepare lunch for you?”

“I’ll be on a call. I’ll order room service when I need something. Get him to prepare dinner for Caden, Piper, and me.” He gave me a curt nod, his attention already on his laptop.

I’d been dismissed. I turned.

“And Tessa?”

I glanced back.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Heading down the corridor, I sensed Langston’s two executives fall in behind me. Piper Ellis’ heels clicked on the floor and I heard her murmur something to Castro. I wondered how many of Langston’s high-powered executives we’d end up having come through here. I’d read an article on them a few months back, when I’d first heard Langston Hotels was interested in the resort. They’d been listed as intelligent, determined, and ruthless.

When we came out in the lobby, it was busy. Guests were checking out and a few were checking in early. Off to one side, Sierra was chatting with a couple dressed in outdoor gear. No doubt giving them hiking directions.

Jazz appeared and out of view of the others, I gave her a look. She bit her lip as she headed my way.

“Jazmin Garcia, this is Piper Ellis and Caden Castro.”

“Welcome to Windward,” Jazz smiled brightly.

“Can you please show Ms. Ellis to the conference room? She’s going to use that as her office. Mr. Castro would like to meet with Richard.”

I glanced back and saw Castro’s gaze sharpen on something across the lobby. Glancing that way, I wondered what had caught the intense man’s attention.

“Who’s that?” he asked, voice curt.

I frowned, trying to see through the group of guests gathered at the concierge desk. Then I realized he was focused on Enzo.

“Enzo Rossi, our concierge. He’s an invaluable member of our team.”

“How long has he worked here?”

“Two years. Is there a problem?”

Castro glanced back at me. His eyes were so dark they looked black. “No.” Then he strode away.