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Epilogue

       About the Publisher

       One

      He’s Just Not That Into You.

      The title of Isabel Withers’s favorite rom-com movie and, unfortunately, the theme of her love life. Or lack thereof. In fact, a better title might have been He Doesn’t Know You’re Alive.

      The same couldn’t be said for Isabel. She was dreamily, frustratingly, sexually, heart-palpitatingly aware every time Shane Adams stepped into The Opulence, a five-star luxury getaway resort an hour east of Seattle. The president in charge of Richmond Hotel Group wasn’t just handsome, with his broad shoulders and piercing sable eyes. He wore aloofness like a magical cloak, enthralling Isabel at first sight.

      Her movie title would go more like... He Knows You’re Alive, but Only as the Helpful Employee Who Drops Everything to Get Him What He Needs in the Hope That He’ll Notice the Woman beneath the Uniform.

      “You just sighed.” This statement came from Isabel’s best friend, Aspen Wright.

      Isabel shot her a look. “You’ve been sighing since Richmond announced it was hosting its fifth anniversary retreat here.”

      With a sly smile that softened the lines of tension around her eyes and mouth, Aspen replied, “I sigh to relieve tension.” The creative genius behind the resort’s lavish events, Aspen was currently stressed to the nines after Matt Richmond hired A-lister event planner Teresa St. Claire to coordinate Richmond’s upcoming retreat. “You’re sighing because that chiseled hunk of you-can’t-touch-this just walked by.”

      Aspen was right and Isabel wasted no breath arguing. “I can’t help it. He’s just so gorgeous.”

      “That he is. And all business.”

      Recognizing that Aspen was once again counseling her to give up her crush, Isabel responded with the same stubborn determination that marked her rise from someone who grew up wearing thrift-store clothes to The Opulence’s head concierge and self-appointed representative of all things romantic at the resort.

      “And that’s exactly how I’m going to approach him this time.”

      “Oh, honey—”

      Isabel raised her hand like a determined traffic cop. “Don’t.” She’d heard Aspen’s lecture all too often and predicted what she was about to say. “I just know there’s something between us. It’s impossible for me to feel as strongly about him as I do and have it be only one-sided.”

      “Says every stalker ever.”

      “I’m not a stalker.”

      “You find ways to run into the man at every turn.” Aspen ticked off each point on long, slender fingers. “You know his schedule better than he does. You make sure he has the best table whenever he dines at Overlook and that his room is stocked with all his favorites whenever he stays overnight.”

      “That’s just part of the fine service we offer here at The Opulence,” she said, waving away her over-the-top service to their executive. “And why wouldn’t we want him to have the absolute best experience every time he comes here? It only improves his perception of the resort.”

      Aspen shrugged. “Some days I’m not sure he notices any of the positive features we have to offer. He’s too busy trying to improve efficiency.”

      Rigidly organized and driven to improve the resort’s already stellar efficiency, Shane was a formidable taskmaster and prone to terrifying the staff whenever he made an appearance. It wasn’t that he was harsh with any of his employees, but the man was so focused on business that he simply forgot to smile when things went well.

      “He needs someone to soften his edges,” Isabel said. “Someone who can show him that the resort’s success isn’t just about providing consistent service, but that we pour our heart and soul into giving our customers a unique experience.”

      “Someone like you?”

      Hearing the teasing lilt in Aspen’s voice, Isabel released a wide grin. “Do you know of anyone better?”

      “No,” Aspen conceded. “Just don’t be disappointed if you fail. I admire everything you’ve accomplished in the year since you arrived here, but that man’s cold heart may be frozen too solid for even your warm touch to heat.”

      “I’m The Opulence’s romance concierge.” Isabel lifted her fist in a gesture of power and triumph. “I will not fail in my mission.”

      A champion of true love, Isabel believed that everyone had the perfect someone out there. Even Aspen, although the older woman scoffed every time Isabel brought the subject up. As for herself, Isabel daydreamed about Shane Adams, even as she recognized that they were opposite in almost every way.

      Aspen regarded her with solemn eyes. “Maybe I’ll stock up on ice cream and red wine just in case.”

      Automatically brushing off Aspen’s cynicism, Isabel blew her friend a kiss and headed to the little office behind the front desk where she organized romantic events for the guests who came to The Opulence looking to celebrate or connect with their partner. Each experience was tailored to the couple’s particular needs and wants thanks to a questionnaire that Isabel had developed over the last few months.

      Although she had a degree in hotel management, Isabel’s knack for customer service had evolved into a passion for delivering fantasy romance experiences after her first month at The Opulence when a dreamy weekend she’d planned had helped a long-married couple see that their marriage could be saved.

      “Fighting for love one couple at a time,” Isabel muttered as she settled into her desk chair and pulled up the presentation she’d been working on to convince Shane that they should actively promote The Opulence as a romantic destination.

      Satisfied that the pitch had the right balance of facts and fancy to convince Shane this was a solid marketing strategy, Isabel dialed Shane’s personal assistant. By the third ring, when Sheila picked up, Isabel’s heart was hammering so hard she could barely hear herself ask the question she’d been rehearsing.

      “Hi, Sheila, it’s Isabel Withers from The Opulence.”

      “Hello, Isabel.” Shane’s assistant had a warm, inviting manner so unlike her brisk, all-business boss. “What can I do for you today?”

      “I was hoping I could get a meeting with Shane while he’s here. I have some ideas for the resort that I’d like to go over with him.”

      If Sheila found it odd that Isabel would skip over the resort’s management and go straight to Shane, she gave no indication. In fact, Isabel had already mentioned her idea to Tom, but he hadn’t grasped the value in it. Going over his head was a risk, but if she could convince Shane, the gamble would pay off.

      “With the upcoming Richmond event, Shane’s schedule is full,” Sheila said.

      “If you could squeeze me in,” Isabel persisted, uncaring that she sounded desperate. “I’ll take fifteen minutes. Whatever he can spare.” Hell, she was so convinced her idea was a good one she was ready to chase him into an elevator and pitch him on the run.

      “Well...” Sheila paused and Isabel could hear the keys clicking on her computer. “He’s free for dinner tonight at eight.”

      Isabel didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take it.” Dinner with Shane? A dream come true. “I’ll get us a table at Overlook. Thanks, Sheila.”

      “I’ve added you to his schedule. And you’re his last meeting of the day, so you won’t have to rush.”

      Was it Isabel’s imagination or did Shane’s assistant sound as if she was

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