Chapter 7
Mason waited outside the restaurant entrance, wondering if he’d been ditched. He’d never been ditched by someone who was stuck in the same building with him before. But knowing Holly, he was positive she’d figure out a way to make it work.
He smiled with relief when he saw her rounding the corner at the end of the hall, stopping to greet a diner. Then stopping to speak to Fred, the waiter. He was itching to spend time with her but he liked watching her work, too. She exuded confidence. Okay, finally it was his turn. No, a girl with bright red hair and dressed in an elf costume waved her over from just inside a doorway. It seemed running a hotel was way more work than running an agency.
“Sorry,” she said when she finally met him at the restaurant podium. The hostess grinned knowingly and Holly narrowed her eyes slightly back at her. They were taken to their seats without a flourish and the hope that they would enjoy their meals. She smirked as the hostess walked back to her stand. “I tell them not to treat me any differently than any other patron and then they make this big show of actually doing it. But we did get the best seat.”
He didn’t bother checking out their distance to the stage. He only had eyes for Holly now that they were less than two feet away from each other. It was strange, but he really had missed her those last two days. And she looked gorgeous. Her auburn hair spilled in loose waves across the pale blue sleeves of her dress. She wore a simple gold necklace with a single pearl. Her skin was radiant and her smile lit him up.
For a shocking second he imagined her wearing that same outfit when he introduced her to his parents. He shook his head. Whoa. He’d wanted to seal the deal with Holly in a concrete way during this dinner, but meeting his parents? He’d thought more along the lines of inviting her to the city for the weekend.
He realized she was chattering away about the menu that night and he yanked himself back to the present. “Christmas dinner?” he asked. “Weren’t you bragging about this a few days ago?” Only a few days? It was true, but he felt like he’d known her much longer.
“Yes, you’re lucky it falls on a day you’re here.” She looked at him expectantly.
He seized his chance. “And I could always come back closer to the holidays.”
Her eyes widened and she looked around the room, waving at Fred as if for a life preserver. “Could we get more water?” she asked when he came around. He looked at her, looked at Mason, looked at the full water glasses on the table. Then shrugged and nodded, adding a drop to each glass. “Thank you,” she said sheepishly.
Mason decided to back off any future talk for now. They chattered about inconsequential things and she asked him a few questions about his clients. The first course arrived and the show started. She kept her eyes either on the stage or on her plate and he gave up for the moment. Might as well enjoy the show. His instincts told him she wouldn’t have agreed to eat with him if she wasn’t interested at all. He must have spooked her when he invited himself for the holidays.
“Oh, here’s Mona’s solo,” she whispered during a scene change. She reached across the table and patted his hand. “She’s really good. Pretty, too.”
He waited with an uneasy feeling. It was exactly like when he visited his relatives and his aunts tried to get him to sign his cousins because they could tap dance or tumble or keep a hula hoop going for an hour. Awkward. Uncomfortable. And ten times worse because he liked Holly so much he might just sign someone who didn’t have a hot chocolate’s chance in the North Pole to ever get a gig in the city.
But actually, Mona was pretty good. Really good, just like Holly said. And her looks were the perfect kind of commercial pretty that got jobs. She’d never walk a runway in Milan but she could probably book an ad for toothpaste. He didn’t think he was being biased, because he was never biased. He’d worked long enough for the big agency to know what would click with a client. He thought of Alonzo’s Pizzeria, a local chain that wanted to do a series of commercials featuring a singing waitress. None of Mason’s singers had looked Italian enough to please Alonzo.
“She looks kind of Italian,” he said out loud.
“She is Italian,” Holly answered. “She has family in Vicenza she visits once a year.”
He leaned across the table. “I want to talk to her after, is that okay? Don’t say anything but I think I might have a job for her. An audition, anyway.”
Holly’s smile brightened the dim restaurant. “Oh my gosh, she’ll be so excited. She’s always talking about trying to get an agent in the city, but she’s so loyal to us and works so many hours. She’s our receptionist, too.”
He grinned. “You might need to look for another receptionist soon.”
She stuck out her tongue. “Least of my worries,” she said grimly. “That would be a great reason to lose an employee.”
The turkey dinner arrived and he had to offer a silent apology to his mom because it was the best Thanksgiving/Christmas dinner he’d had his entire life. In fact, he thought about offering to take his family here and let his mom have a break from toiling in the kitchen all day.
“Did I lie?” she asked smugly when he caught her watching his ecstasy faces.
“You told the truth,” he said. “This is— I can’t describe how good it is.”
She seemed to relax after that and he kept it light. He was anxious, though. His meeting with Amanda was the next day and he still couldn’t figure out what she wanted from an agent. Not family, so maybe a pal, someone to hang out with? She was homeschooled after all, and with her level of popularity, he imagined there might be some strain on any of her old friendships. He felt strange and borderline creepy palling around with an eighteen year old girl.
“What is it?” Holly asked out of the blue. She looked at him with concern. “Did you bite down on something sour?”
“Was I making a face?” he asked, trying to arrange his features so they wouldn’t show his thoughts, though it was apparently too late.
“You looked like you were imagining what it would look like to put a frog in a blender.”
He chuckled. “That bad, huh? It’s that meeting tomorrow. She turned me down the first meeting, then said she wanted to get to know me more. She wants something specific from an agent, something she’s not getting from her mother, who is currently doing her bookings and not a great job of it.”
“Well, you’d obviously have more contacts than an upstate New York mom.”
“I mean, besides contacts. The thing is, she’s only eighteen and been pretty sheltered. I don’t think she knows what she wants. But I know I can get her the right kind of jobs. If she falls into the hands of some of the sleeze bags out there, they’re just going to want to make a quick buck and slap her on the cover of a men’s magazine. I know I can get her a part in a sitcom, probably a movie walk-on or two. Eventually I’m certain she could have her choice of campaigns.”
“It’s clear you’re very passionate about her talent,” Holly said, scrunching her eyes together. “I’m trying to remember what it was like to be eighteen. I’m finding it difficult.”
“Anything would help,” he said.
“Well, I do remember feeling both very grown up and scared half to death. Whenever someone told me a better way to do something, I’d pout for at least an hour, usually tried to do it my own way, then pout about them being right and having to do it over.”
“So don’t try to tell her what’s the right way to do things?” he asked. “Even if I’m the expert?”
She gave him the side eye. “Come on, think back to being a teenager. Boys and girls aren’t so different at that age. At that age, you’re the expert at everything.” He laughed, remembering how stubborn he was and the useless fights he’d get into with his parents. “But you also have to remember the scared to death part,” Holly continued. She shrugged. “I say just listen to her, agree when you can, and be honest.”
“That’s not the miracle advice I was hoping for, but it’s good advice. Thanks.” He reached across the table and took her hand. She jerked, but he realized it wasn’t because of his touch. She kept her hand in his and nodded eagerly at the stage.
“This is it. Santa’s finale.”
A hush fell over the restaurant, all the quiet conversation and silverware clinking stopping at once. After hearing Mona he had a bit higher expectations, but he still couldn’t believe the response he was seeing. Santa was probably a much loved member of the community and all the regulars were loyal to him.
The curtains swooshed open and there was the man himself, standing in the middle of a cool white spotlight. Mason leaned forward and blinked, then turned to Holly to see her still nodding. The man on the stage looked like the real Santa Claus. If there was a real Santa Claus. He blinked again. Had the inn finally brainwashed him with its nonstop Christmas cheer? The red velvet and white fur suit was the best costume he’d ever seen. The tummy seemed real enough and the beard was definitely genuine. Fluffy, long, and white. And even from the distance he was from the stage, Mason could see the twinkle in his jolly eyes.
The crowd erupted into applause and Santa laughed while holding his belly. It actually shook like a bowl full of jelly. After the fervent applause died down, Santa nodded off to the side, probably cueing the music. The tune of White Christmas soared through the restaurant. Okay, he did know this song, after all.
And then Santa opened his mouth and sang. All the hairs on Mason’s arms stood up and tears sprang to his eyes. He was transported back to childhood by the man’s heavenly, clear voice. Every good memory he had flooded back to him. It was truly as beautiful as he’d been told to expect. Better. He clapped as loud as everyone else when the song ended and Santa took a bow. He yelled along for an encore.
“He never does an encore,” Holly said. “He thinks it would dilute the magic.”
It was several moments before he could speak, still basking in the feelings he’d experienced during the performance. “It was magic,” he croaked finally. “You were right again.” He remembered Alonzo’s Pizzeria and how lucrative that campaign would be for whoever got it. “I still want to talk to Mona,” he said. “But don’t run off, okay? Let’s look at the stars some more. Cocoa’s on me tonight.”
She smiled, much more relaxed than she’d been at the beginning of the meal. Whatever had been bothering her must have been whisked away by Santa’s miraculous performance. He knew he was still buzzing with happiness from it.
“Well, I never could resist a big spender. I’ll meet you there in half an hour?”
He took her hands and pulled her close, not quite a hug. “It’s a date.”
Color flooded her cheeks. “It’s a date,” she agreed.
He couldn’t help himself. He popped a kiss on her forehead before taking off for the backstage area to find Mona.
***
Holly had been sure she was out, but now she was back in. Mason was too cute, too fun, too irresistible. She liked him and that was that. No, she never got weekends off so she didn’t know how she’d ever get to the city to see him. But he had mentioned coming back closer to the holidays. She didn’t want to wait that long. At least she had tonight and tomorrow.
She sighed happily as she hurried to make sure the gift shop was under control. A Santa performance usually put the diners in a shopping mood and sometimes Dani could get overwhelmed. It was amazing how a few short hours with Mason was such a balm to her soul. It was almost as if she didn’t have a care in the world as she swung her arms and skipped down the hall.
She nearly tripped and the goofy smile she had slid off her face when Uncle Clarence came out of the gift shop. His face was drawn and pale, his normally ruffled hair nearly stood on end from all the pulling at it he must have been doing.
He’s only worried about the mortgage, she thought. Better yet, maybe there’s trouble in the gift shop. Something like that would be easy to remedy. Maybe he wasn’t looking for her at all and would breeze right past her in the hall … nope.
“Holly, I’ve been searching for you all day.”
“I was doing some paperwork up in my room,” she said.
She didn’t bother asking why he hadn’t called her phone. It never would have crossed his mind. For a relatively young man, he was hopelessly stuck in a long ago generation.
He nodded and raked his fingers through his flyaway hair. “Well, come with me now. Betty’s waiting in her room.”
“But, the gift shop …” she said, wanting to run away.
“Is fine. I just checked. Dani has it under control and Bernie’s helping out.”
She followed him numbly to her mother’s room. It was on the same floor as her room/office, making the entire third floor a family suite. Uncle Clarence lived in what had been a guest house back in the day when that entire massive mansion had been someone’s home.
Her mother sat on her couch, doing needlepoint of all things. More mistletoe, probably another table cloth. She looked up to greet them and Holly knew instantly she’d been crying.
“No,” Holly said, backing away. She was twelve years old again, not wanting to believe some bad news. She shook her head when her mother patted the cushion beside her.
“Holly, sit down,” Uncle Clarence said firmly. Her uncle was never bossy. Things were really bad. “Call your sister. This is family news.”
A few seconds later Ivy was on speaker again. “I forget what late hours you guys keep,” she said sleepily. “You think I’d be the night owl down here in the city, but I’m usually out by nine.”
Holly glanced at the cuckoo clock on her mom’s wall. It was slightly past ten. “Ivy, shut up. Uncle Clarence called a family meeting.”
Uncle Clarence cleared his throat. “Your mom’s doctor finally got back to us today. It looks like she’ll be needing another round of treatment.”
Holly wiped her face futilely. The tears kept coming. “How bad is it?” she asked.
“It’s bad enough if she needs more treatment,” Ivy piped up. “So, when will they start? Right away? If you need me there, just say it. No, I know you won’t say it so I’ll just make plans to get up there as soon as I can.”
Ivy offering to help without a hint of a whine in her voice drove home how serious the situation was and Holly choked back a sob. Her mother got up and sat beside her, putting her arms around her and stroking her hair.
“You look so pretty tonight, dear,” she said randomly. “Did you have dinner with the guest again?” Holly only sniveled, hating herself for going to pieces. She’d always imagined herself as the strong sister. After all, she stayed and did all the grunt work. Now it was Ivy who was being selfless and decisive while she blubbered helplessly. “Stop crying now, Holly.” Her mom took out one of her endless supply of tissues and mopped at her face. “And Ivy, there’s no need for you to uproot yourself, dear.”
“Betty’s right,” Uncle Clarence said. “Stay where you are for now.”
“I’m going to put off the treatments for a while,” their mother added.
“What?” Holly and Ivy burst out at the same time. “If your doctor says you need them, you need them,” Ivy spluttered. Something crashed in the background, probably Ivy trying to make a cup of coffee and talk on the phone at the same time.
Holly stared from her mother to her uncle. “We don’t have the money,” she said, reading their faces as if words scrolled across them.
“Then take out another loan,” Ivy yelled.
“No more loans,” Betty said, steel in her voice. It was the voice they rarely heard and never argued with.
Except Ivy was safe, miles away. “Then I’ll do it. You can’t stop me.”
“Ivy.” The tone grew steelier and Ivy fell silent.
“Listen. Nobody needs to take out any more loans.” Holly stood up. “Ivy, stay in the city. Do not quit your job. You hear me? I’m going to fix this. Nobody needs to worry.” She reached over and ended the call with her sister, then glared at Uncle Clarence. She nodded resolutely at her mom and stormed from the room.
In her own room, she sank into her desk chair. With shaking hands she fumbled in the drawer for her girly address book. She kept her contacts in her phone like a normal person, but important numbers she wrote down in her cream colored address book with the rose gold bird embossed on the cover. For once it didn’t make her smile. She found the number she wanted. He lived in California so it wasn’t an inappropriate time to call. But did she really want to make the call? She didn’t. She punched out the numbers anyway.
“Oh, hi, Holly, how great to hear from you. Only three more months until HotelCon. You’re going, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she said listlessly. “Listen, Brad, do you know any big chains who’re looking for management?”
“Always. Who’s it for? Although if you’re vetting them, I’m sure it won’t be hard for them to get a job.”
That should have given her a warm glow. It was always nice to be admired by your peers. She only felt dead inside. She’d made her decision but it was hard to say the words. “It’s for me, actually. I’m looking for something fairly fast, too.”
Brad gasped. “God, Holly, is everything all right? I’ve seen people headhunting you for years at the conventions. I thought you’d never leave the inn.”
“Everything’s fine,” she said. “Everyone needs a change sometime, right?”
“Sure, I guess so. Well, this is great, then,” Brad enthused. “I have a few people in mind who’d get in a knife fight to have you managing their operations.”
“Well, we don’t need to go that far. I just want a good, competitive salary.” She took a deep breath and decided to go whole hog. “A signing bonus too, if you think that many companies might be interested.”
“Oh, honey, you’re a legendary worker bee. Your employees love you and your place is freaking Christmas all year long and yet you still manage to keep packing the place.”
At least they were still maintaining the aura of success, that was good to hear. “Well…” She let it hang, hoping it sounded modest rather than incredulous. “If you could let me know as soon as possible I’d appreciate it.”
She ended the call and flipped through her address book some more. She made six more almost identical calls before snapping the book shut. She was out of steam and couldn’t fake wanting a new job one more time. It gave her a pain in her chest, sorrow and panic mingled together, to think about leaving the inn. It was her child, her home, her passion. Everything and everyone she loved was here.
“Which is why you need to do this,” she said bracingly.
Exhausted, she put on her pajamas and burrowed under the covers. Sadness warred with worry for the top spot in her mind. Just as she was about to mercifully drift off to sleep, she gasped and sat up, reaching for her phone. It was after eleven. She’d forgotten about Mason. Had he waited long? Was he mad at her? She thought about messaging him, sure he’d still be awake, but returned her phone to the bedside table and lay back down.
Chances were, she’d be taking a position even further away from Manhattan than she was now. And in order to prove herself in a new job, she knew she’d be working endless hours. Any spare time she had she’d need to spend with her mother. A long distance relationship was a bad idea all the way around. Mason was destined to be nothing more than a wonderful, sweet ship that passed in the night. She’d only known him a few days, but it felt like much more. She’d shared things with him and he’d confided in her. And those kisses …
On top of everything else, her chest constricted with the heartbreak of missing out on what might have been really great. But she had to let it go. There were too many other things that were more important than her love life. Her mother’s health and the fate of the inn, mainly. Didn’t she have enough to be heartbroken about without adding Mason to the mix? She did. She most certainly did.
And yet, it was Mason she thought about as she finally fell asleep.