Chapter 3
Mason took a step back, confused. She was going to take the call? Even though he was about to give her a kiss he hoped she’d remember the rest of her life? Apparently so, as she was already halfway down the hall, not looking back to even wave him an apology. She had said it was her sister. He frowned with worry now, feeling bad for being selfish. He hoped nothing was wrong. He knew if his sister had called at such a time he would have hung right up on her.
He slid his key card to open the door, his own phone lighting up as soon as he sat down on the plush bed. He ignored it, having already texted Shelly that he was safe and sound and would be back on the road in the morning, weather permitting.
He almost hoped it was still storming, but when he checked out the window, there was only a gentle patter of rain against the glass. Noticing there was a string of Christmas lights hung up around it and feeling whimsical, he found the switch and turned them on. Even though it was only the beginning of October, the lights didn’t irritate him or make him roll his eyes. There was something about the place, about Holly’s enthusiasm, that put him in a holiday mood. The more he thought about it, who wouldn’t want the joy of Christmas all the time?
“Maybe there’s eggnog in the mini fridge,” he said, wanting to chase off his frustration.
He had zero hope Holly would come back. For all he knew, that was a system of hers to get out of awkward situations. He scowled as he rummaged through the refrigerator, hoping she didn’t consider him an awkward situation. He scowled harder to think how many men must hit on her. She was so beautiful and alluring, there was no way single male guests didn’t fall all over her.
He laughed without any humor to find there actually was eggnog. He took the small carton and a tiny bottle of rum and settled into the dark red and green plaid armchair. Besides the twinkling lights at the window and that chair, the room was surprisingly neutral and calming. However, as comfortable as it was, he wasn’t calmed. All he could think about was Holly eagerly escaping him. He thought they’d had a great time at dinner.
“Quit being an ass,” he muttered, taking a big gulp of his well-spiked nog. “It was a call from family.”
His phone lit up again and he looked at his watch. Ten o’clock, too late for an office emergency, not that he ever had office emergencies anymore since his people rarely got hired. He didn’t recognize the number but answered it anyway, ready to tell whoever it was off to relieve his sour mood.
“Mason?” a sweet, girlish voice asked after he growled his hello.
Oh God, it was the internet sensation. What did she want at this hour? “Oh, Amanda? Hi, how are you? Everything okay?” She was an eighteen year old girl after all. Anything could be wrong.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’ve just been thinking, looking over your paperwork. Do you think we could meet again? I have a few more questions and just wanted to, you know, hang out with you again. Whoever represents me … I guess I just want to be …”
“Comfortable,” he supplied. He hoped in a soothing, friendly tone. “Like family?”
“Blech,” she said. “Not like family.”
He panicked, wondering if he’d lost her for good with his faux pas. But why was that a faux pas? “When can you get together?” he asked. “I can come up there any time.” Better to stick to business than put his foot in his mouth again.
“Can you do Tuesday?” she asked after a long pause.
Okay, he hadn’t completely lost her. That was six days away. For some crazy reason he thought about the Santa finale he hadn’t been able to see. And Holly’s inviting lips. The warmth radiating off of her as he’d eased in for the kiss. So, two things he’d missed out on. He was positive Holly had wanted him as much as he wanted her. The phone call hadn’t been an escape plan, he was sure of it.
“Of course. Tuesday sounds great.” All he could picture was Holly rushing away down the hall, her phone pressed to her ear. She’d looked worried, which made him worried for some reason. “Hey, listen, Amanda, I had to stop at this inn on the way back to Manhattan because of a bad storm. It’s called the White Christmas Inn and it’s …”
“I’ve heard of it,” she said, her tone sounding more cheery. “I’ve always wanted to see what it was about but my mom thinks it’s stupid and would never take me.”
“It’s only a couple hours from you. Want me to arrange a car? The food is fantastic.”
“Yeah, sure. Don’t worry about the car, though. I can drive.”
“You got it then. Oh, the food is great, so be hungry.”
She laughed. “I’m always hungry. See you next week.”
He felt triumphant about getting another chance to represent Amanda, but his mood soared even higher about getting to see Holly again. He gulped down the rest of his eggnog and grimaced at the sweet, sticky taste. He started to message Shelly the good news, but it was late, and he’d see her tomorrow in the office.
He looked over at the window, the colorful lights winking off the darkened glass. Did he really want to go a whole week before seeing Holly again? What would most likely happen was he’d forget whatever it was about her that had so enchanted him. Then he’d be annoyed at having to drive up here again when he could have just as easily arranged for Amanda to come to Manhattan.
Now that he thought about it, Amanda had lived out in the boonies her whole life. A swanky restaurant in the city would have been much more impressive to a teenager than an old, holiday themed mansion.
The lights continued to twinkle merrily and he felt himself being dragged under their spell. And he was wrong, there was no possible way he would forget anything about Holly. He’d be obsessing about her the entire week. He grabbed his phone and tapped out a message to Shelly.
I set up another meeting with Amanda Snyder next Tuesday. Am going to stay here until then. Forward everything. And messenger me some clothes.
Despite the time, within a few minutes his phone lit up. He could envision Shelly’s stupefaction as it almost vibrated itself off the arm of the chair. She’d think he was insane for staying away from the office for so long, would have question after question. But his job was mainly making countless calls, he could do it anywhere. He sighed contentedly and ignored the phone.
***
Holly set her phone on the table, smack in the middle of the embroidered mistletoe tablecloth. “I’ve got you on speaker, Ivy,” she said, glancing at her anxious looking mother and stone-faced uncle.
“What’s this about, Holly? Is something wrong with the hotel?” her mother asked.
Betty had been born into the business, same as Holly, but she was more on the crafty side of things. She kept fresh, delicious candies stocked in the gift shop, kept the tables and chairs adorned with cozy throws and festive doilies, and was ruthless when it came to keeping their many Christmas trees decorated. She hated accounts and left that up to her older brother Clarence.
Uncle Clarence was now the recipient of Holly’s glare as she said, “Let Ivy talk, mom. This is a family meeting and it’s not just about the inn.”
“Mom, have you been getting treatments at Upstate Cancer Center?” Ivy’s voice cracked and Holly had to concentrate hard on the embroidered mistletoe to keep from crying as well.
“Wh- what?” Betty looked wild-eyed from her daughter to her brother. “How did you find out about it?”
Holly reached over and squeezed her hand. “So it’s true? You’re sick and didn’t tell us? What in the heck, mom?” A tear escaped and her mother hurried to pull a tissue from her always-stocked pocket.
“It’s nothing. I didn’t want you to worry.” She turned to Clarence. “Darn it, Clarence. You know everything is fine now, why did you go and have to worry them?”
Uncle Clarence waved his hands in the air. “I didn’t tell them.”
“And what do you mean everything’s fine now?” Ivy piped in, her voice as far away as she was.
Their mother sighed and pulled up a chair, sank into it. “Yes, I had thyroid cancer last year. We did the treatments and it’s clear now.”
“For now,” Uncle Clarence said, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have stopped the therapy, no matter what they said about it being in remission.”
“Is it in remission or is it clear?” Holly demanded, her throat tight from choking back her tears.
So Ivy’s snooping had been correct. The money from the mortgage loan had gone to treat their mother’s cancer. Thinking the word, hearing it out loud, was like a knife twisting in her gut.
Betty nodded for Holly to sit, then patted her shoulder. “It’s in remission, but it’s not a serious form of cancer—”
“Don’t treat them like children,” Uncle Clarence snapped, taking over. “It’s true that what your mother has is an easier form to treat and thank God she’s in remission now, but she should still be going for regular check ups. And she made me swear not to tell you girls.”
“And swear not to tell us about the mortgage, either?” Ivy called out.
If she had been in the room, her yelling would have reverberated out into the hall where employees and guests could hear. For a brief second, Holly thought about Mason and wondered when he’d check out. She didn’t want him to check out. They needed guests.
Silence descended. The hounded look on Uncle Clarence’s face and the baffled one on her mom’s told Holly that the mortgage had been another secret of his.
“What mortgage?” Betty asked in a tiny voice.
“The one we’re now eight months behind on,” snapped Ivy. “Uncle Clarence never told you about it?”
“Shut up, Ivy,” Holly said, about to take the phone off speaker if her sister kept up her attitude. But she wasn’t in the room and couldn’t see their mother silently sobbing into her hands.
“Oh, Clarence, you didn’t. You said it was savings.”
“It was partly savings,” he said, face pale. “But then that ran out.” Holly knew how much he cared about them, how much he adored his little sister especially. He would have done anything to save her life, even risk the inn. Holly’s anger at him evaporated, replaced with sadness at the situation.
“You should have told us from the start,” she said.
“Exactly right,” Ivy said. “I could have sent you my savings for the treatments. And part of my salary. We all could have tightened our belts and the inn wouldn’t be in foreclosure.”
Betty’s sobs were no longer silent. “Foreclosure?”
“It’ll be all right, Bets,” Clarence assured her, patting her arm awkwardly.
“How will it be all right?” Ivy hollered. “Why did you let it go so long?”
“Enough,” Holly said. “I’ll call you later, Ivy.” She ended the call. Her sister wasn’t part of the daily running of the hotel and those who were needed to get down to business. As much as she agreed with her— Uncle Clarence had hidden the papers in the freezer for goodness’ sake! —recriminations wouldn’t pay the bills.
“Are you really better, mom? Or do you need more treatments?”
“She doesn’t need treatments anymore, but she hasn’t been going for her follow-ups,” Uncle Clarence answered, getting a rare scowl from her mom.
“Then you need to go to them,” Holly said. “That’s non-negotiable.”
“Are you telling me what to do, young lady?”
“Yes, I am. I’m officially the manager of this place, right? And you’re no longer allowed to make the chocolates or anything else if you don’t make an appointment with your doctor. Geez, mom.” Holly had to pause and gulp back tears. “One, what would we do without you? I’m only twenty-five. I can’t be without a mom. And two, if the cancer comes back, it’ll be way more expensive.”
Betty laughed and wiped her face “Always the pragmatist. And all right, I’ll make the appointment.”
“And keep it,” Uncle Clarence growled.
“Yes, and keep it,” Betty agreed. “But what are we going to do about the foreclosure? Oh, this is all my fault.”
“No, Bets, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have taken the loan. Or I should have talked to you and the girls first. But I didn’t think you’d agree to it and I was scared. I’m only forty-eight. I can’t be without a sister.”
Holly used the tissue her mother had given her to mop away the tears that flowed down her cheeks. “It’s nobody’s fault,” Holly said, willing to forgive her uncle. What’s done was done, after all. “We need to stop crying and figure out how to fix this.”
“What needs to happen to pay off what we owe?” Uncle Clarence asked after they got themselves together.
“We need to be at capacity every day until Christmas to pay it all off,” Holly said, nodding as the color drained from their faces. “Yes, and we know that’s not going to happen. So we’re going to have to at least come up with a chunk to show good faith and hope for an extension. Ivy’s offered her savings and can give us two hundred a month from her salary.”
Betty sniffed. “The sweet, generous darling. She makes so little down there in the city.”
Holly took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Since I barely take a salary as it is,” she said, trying to unclench her jaw, “I don’t have any savings to offer. But I can sell a few things.” Over the years she’d occasionally treated herself to a nice piece of jewelry. Nothing extravagant, but she was sure she could get something for the tiny diamond solitaire earrings and her gold bangle bracelet.
“I can, too,” Uncle Clarence said, stroking his watch sadly. “Look, Holly, I know you hate this kind of thing, but we may need to cut some salaries.”
“No, absolutely not. We’re nothing without our staff and you know it.”
“I’m not talking letting anyone go, just temporary cuts. But if we were talking about letting anyone go, what about your froufrou chef? He’s our biggest expense. Cooks are a dime a dozen. We could—”
“Get rid of Emile? You’re aware the only reason people from miles away crowd into the restaurant every night is because of his cooking? If we start serving mediocre food, we may as well close our doors.”
“She’s right, Clarence,” her mom sighed. “I’m going to go pray about it, you two. We’ll come up with something.”
Holly was about to argue for more brainstorming but noticed how tired her mother looked. Had she been looking like that since last year and Holly was too busy to notice?
“Okay, mom, get some rest. And don’t worry. Uncle Clarence and I will figure something out.”
As soon as her mother was out of the room, her uncle turned to her. “Like what?” he asked. “We might just finally be at the end of the line.”
Holly gasped. Was he giving up? “Give me some time to think and crunch the numbers,” she said. “It’s nowhere near the end of the line.” The front desk bell dinged and she groaned. “That’s the guest. He probably wants to check out. I’ll see you later.”
She trudged out of the meeting room, still reeling from Uncle Clarence even mentioning losing the inn. It wasn’t just where she worked, it was the only home she’d ever known. She always imagined herself growing old there, her children having snowball fights in the courtyard, her husband making hot chocolate for the guests and helping with the upkeep.
Her thoughts came to a screeching halt. What children? What husband? She hadn’t been in a relationship for almost two years. Yes, men were interested. For a short time. No one could handle the long haul, the hard work, the everlasting Christmas cheer. They always tried to get her to leave, live a more normal life. She didn’t understand that at all. This was her normal. Being surrounded by tinsel and stockings and snowglobes and mistletoe was her life. She didn’t want to ever give it up. Which meant she’d be running the place in her old age alone.
If we can keep it that long, she thought. She paused at a fireplace and looked in the ornate mirror above it to make sure it didn’t show that she’d been crying. She practiced a cheerful smile, straightened the bedazzled stockings that hung from the mantel and jumped when she heard the bell ding again.
“Sorry,” she said as she burst through the lobby door.
Her heart did a little flip when she saw Mason standing by the check-in counter. He was as handsome as she recalled. She also recalled ditching him unceremoniously at his door the night before. It was too bad she hadn’t gotten that kiss. It would have gone a long way to sustain her through what was sure to be some hard days ahead.
“Still short-handed?” he asked.
“Yes, sorry,” she repeated. “I’ll have you checked out in a jiffy, though.”
“Actually,” he said, turning away from the counter and walking toward her. Her heart not only flipped again, it dipped down to her stomach, only to be attacked by butterflies. But he was leaving and she’d never see him again. “I was wondering if you could book me through next Tuesday.”
“Really?” she squeaked, then clamped her lips at her unprofessionalism. She hurried past him to the counter and turned on the computer. More composed, she pretended to see if there was any availability. It was a drop in the ocean, one guest for a six night stay, but it was still a drop. And she found she was glad he was staying for reasons other than financial ones. “You can keep the same room you have now, or we also have the Feliz Navidad suite available. It has a spa bathtub—” she had to duck her head to hide the heat she felt creeping up her cheeks. Why would she blush when telling a guest about the bathtub? She certainly wasn’t picturing him in it or anything. “And there’s a nice sized balcony with a breathtaking view over the hills and forest.” There, that was better. She was back to her chipper, salesperson self.
“Feliz Navidad room sounds great. My assistant is going to messenger some things to me, but is there any place I can buy a few things in the meantime?”
She tried to hide her disappointment that he was also being so businesslike and showed him the brochure of the nearest town, Maple Valley. “It’s as charming as its name. There’s a great sandwich shop, a bookstore, a general type store that sells some clothes.” She nodded toward the gift shop, the entrance half hidden by the giant lobby tree. “We have basic amenities in the gift shop as well, if you didn’t want to go all the way to town. It’s about a half hour drive, but it’s worth it.” She couldn’t figure out by her rambling if she wanted him to leave or stay.
He studied the brochure for about ten seconds. “I’d love to see this charming town of yours, but I’d need a guide. Tell me you’re available.”
She must have blinked about eighty times in quick succession. Was he asking her out? It seemed like it. And she wanted to go. So, so badly. The storm had blown away and a quick glance out the front doors showed a perfect blue sky, golden trees, fall day. She could almost taste the crisp caramel apples they had at the diner this time of year. And getting to talk to Mason more? Perhaps he’d take her hand while they strolled along the main street. Maybe she’d get that kiss she was cheated out of the night before.
But the inn needed her and they were woefully understaffed. “I’d love to, really,” she said, hoping he believed her. “But when I was on stage last night I could feel a few loose boards. I need to nail them down before tonight’s show. I also have … well. A lot of things.” Against her will, a sigh escaped her.
“Sounds like you need an assistant,” he said, putting his elbows on the counter and looking straight at her with those marvelous eyes that rivaled the autumn colors outside.
“Just need everyone to get over the flu,” she said, feeling instantly contrite. No one could help getting sick and she shouldn’t be acting wistful about her duties in front of a guest. He made her feel so comfortable, though.
He smiled. “I meant me. I can wield a hammer. Hold nails. Whatever you need.”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to—” she wished she could ask him to help. The company alone would be priceless. His company.
“You didn’t ask,” he said. “I volunteered. It sounds like fun. Show me the seedy underbelly of running a resort hotel.”
She snorted, delighted at his kind offer. Delighted to spend time with him. “I’ll show you the seedy underbelly of our stage,” she said. “If you really want to help, come on.”