Niki had worked in hotels all around the Mediterranean. She’d also done a brief stint at an eco-resort in Tulum, but the humidity wrecked her hair so badly she’d accepted the first job offer that would take her back to Europe. Of all those jobs, managing the Serenidad Resort and Spa was her favourite so far.
Unlike many of the over-designed monstrosities that dotted the Costa del Sol, the Serenidad—despite the fact that it was only a few years old—was designed to meld with the region’s rustic, Mediterranean character. Plaster walls and clay-tiled roofs encouraged comparisons to an old Spanish villa, scaled up to palatial proportions. The hotel’s interior was decorated in pale tones and simple wood accents, giving it a modern yet tranquil atmosphere.
Niki even liked the owner, although her family had been none too pleased to find out she was working for a Turk.
The only unpleasant part of the job was, frequently, the guests—four of whom had come in at once while the receptionists were on break, leaving Niki to run the check-in desk alone.
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