Eyes Wide Open Read Online Free

into the restaurant. One of the restaurants, anyway. This one was probably the more casual one, for want of a better word—one that allowed non-guests to book tables—though it’d still probably be well in advance—and was more suitable for daytime dining.
    The super luxury restaurants were probably tucked away in more secluded corners of the building, not that the one she could see was exactly a greasy spoon, but still… Her research had told her that the head chef had three Michelin stars—one of barely a handful of chefs in the country that did. So no matter which part of the hotel one ate in, a serious gastronomic delight was a given. She’d never been much of a foodie, but spending time in this place would be enough to change anyone’s mind, she was sure.
    Immaculately dressed staff whizzed back and forth between the tables, delivering food and drinks, taking away empty plates, swapping cutlery, bringing new linens… The tasks were myriad, and endless, and they were all performed with quiet efficiency. By the looks of it, patrons would have water carafes and coffee cups refilled before they even realized they were empty. Nobody, not even the pickiest, most awkward diva-ish folk could find this place anything but utterly amazing.
    What’s more, the members of staff looked happy, too. There was a difference between smiling because it was what was expected of you and was polite, and smiling because you actually enjoyed your job and wanted to be there. The door attendant, the receptionists and the whizzing waiters and waitresses in the restaurant all appeared to be in the latter group. Of course, they could just be very good at faking it, but Fiona doubted it. The warmth behind Isa’s smile and her tone of voice when she’d wished her luck had been real.
    Well, so much for distracting herself and trying to keep the nerves at bay. Yes, her observations had given her some interesting insights into the place, its staff and the way it was run, but they had also driven home for her just how much she wanted this role. She hoped like hell that the aching need she now had in her stomach would aid her performance in the interview, because she knew if she didn’t get the job, the ache would turn into a big, heavy ball that would sit in her tummy and make her life very unpleasant.
    “Ms. Gillespie?”
    The voice startled her out of her thoughts, and a gasp escaped her lips before she could prevent it. She smiled and rose from the seat, turning to face the owner of the voice. “Hello. I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there. You startled me. I’m Fiona.” She held out her hand.
    The woman, a tall, curvaceous brunette maybe ten years her senior, took her hand and they shook. “Sorry,” she said, smiling. “I didn’t mean to make you jump. I’m Sophia Lowrey, PR Manager. It’s lovely to meet you.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were Ms. Cresswell.”
    Sophia shook her head. “No. She’s waiting in the interview room, just making a few notes on the last applicant. We’ll both be interviewing you.”
    “I see. Okay, great. Sorry. It’s lovely to meet you, too. I’m sorry, I’m a little nervous.” Bloody hell, Fiona, stop saying sorry!
    The older woman smiled again, then held out her arm to indicate that Fiona should walk with her. “Please, come with me. And don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Just be yourself. That’s all we ask.”
    Even if ’myself’ is a penniless graduate with no experience whatsoever in PR? You’d be better off sticking me behind the bar. Though, even there I’d be no good—not much call for champagne and cocktails at The Royal Oak, but I pull a mean pint.
    Instead, she smiled back, picked up her bag and followed Sophia out of the lobby, past the elevators and through a discreet door tucked into the far corner of the space. Once through the door, Fiona could immediately see why someone came to fetch the interviewees—giving directions to someone who’d never set foot in the