Read The Fifth Season for Free Online Page B

young, Latino woman to the left. In the center of the room, a group of twenty-something, giggling girls spoke rapidly to one another using their hands when words failed.
    They were everywhere.
    He strode over to Emma who stood in the center of this human tornado and grabbed her arm. With a grin, she patted his hand like he was a child and yelled above the din.
    “Guys, I’d like to introduce the new owner of River Run, Stone Connor.”
    There was an immediate decent into silence. Twenty pairs of eyes stared at him, some accusing, some shocked.
    “Mr. Connor, may I introduce the River Run staff.” Emma grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward the crowd of people that had begun to form an uneven line. Her touch burned.
    When was the last time he’d allowed anyone to lead?
    He swallowed the longing to pull her closer, to use her as a shield against the inquisitive stares, but instead battled to remain focused and examine the odd assortment of characters wearing identical River Run t-shirts.
    Emma ticked off name after name along with each person’s occupation, Maid, Landscape Artist, Culinary Assistant, Activities Coordinator, they all quickly became a blur. Stone mentally filed it away. He was wary of the glances that seemed to want his approval or required direction. Leadership wasn’t his responsibility.
    Finally, Stone shook hands with his last employee. Tilly someone or other, the chef. She was a short, buxom brunette, and if she wasn’t giving him an open invitation into her pants then he was stupider than Porkahontas.
    “So, like I said,” she cooed. “If you want a private sampling of the menu next week, I’ll be happy to prepare it and bring it to your suite this evening.”
    “Tilly,” Emma said. Stone gazed down at his resort manager, the sharp tone in her voice amused him. “I’m certain that won’t be necessary.”
    “How do you know, Em? Maybe Mr. Connor would like a little taste of my mouth-watering wares.” Stone bit his lip. It wouldn’t do to laugh in this woman’s face. He was concerned, however, that she’d treated Emma with a hint of contempt.
    “Ms. Williams, right?”
    “Yes, sir,” the chef replied, scuttling forward and stroking his shirt sleeve.
    “I appreciate your offer of a private dinner.” He didn’t miss the spark of triumph she tossed at Emma. Frowning, he rubbed his hand over weary eyes. Normally, he’d gladly accept the catch-of-the-day, but right now he wanted to land his fist smack in the middle of little-miss-hot-potatoes forehead. “Ms. O’Malley and I have business to discuss. We’ll both dine on the back deck this evening, if it suits her schedule.”
    Emma gaped at him. He furrowed his brow and glanced at the mounted bass behind her head. Glancing down at her open mouth, he resisted the urge to lift her chin. “Ms. O’Malley, does that suit you?”
    “Yes sir,” she whispered.
    He turned and walked out of the room, pausing outside the living room he looked over his shoulder and waved his hand. “Carry on, everyone. I’ll be back before you leave for a daily report.”
    Closing the door to his suite, he relished the silence. He’d done it. An hour of masquerading as a human being, and no one had seen beyond his façade.
    Collapsing on the bed, he grabbed his head and dug his palms into the pain that sliced his temples. Thirty dead eyes floated before him. He’d made the wrong choice, they accused.
    He needed to forget, that’s what his therapist said. Until he pushed these faces down, into the fathoms of his soul, he’d be unable to continue.
    Stone’s lip twisted up into a savage smile.
    He’d won this first battle. He hadn’t failed beneath the ever watchful gaze of Emma O’Malley.
     
    ***
     
    Emma helped Tilly stash the groceries she’d brought. The woman chattered non-stop about their handsome new boss, absolutely ignorant that he’d not been interested in her feminine wiles.
    “It’ll take a while for him to warm up to me, but you’ll