Chapter 8
It was still two hours until dinner and Mason had no clue what to do with the internet sensation. Amanda had arrived early, wanting to see where things went or some such nonsense. He was only twenty-seven but he felt like a crotchety geezer around her. But he was desperate to impress her so she’d sign with the agency.
“There are board games in the common room,” he said hopefully.
She shrugged and followed him, letting him choose Monopoly. He knew that game could last forever and hoped it would get them through to dinner, when he’d have the show as built in entertainment. The girl was so bubbly and witty in her videos but in real life she was quiet, slouchy, almost grim. It made him wonder if something was wrong with her family, but thought it might be presumptuous to ask.
He wished Holly was around. She’d introduce some safe, comfortable topics. Every conversation starter he’d tried so far had ended with a one or two word answer from Amanda. And he wished he could get a glimpse of Holly so he could ask her why she hadn’t shown up last night. He’d been so disappointed he’d called his assistant for advice.
“Are you serious?” Shelly asked. “She just doesn’t like you. You really want to be involved with someone three hours away?”
It hadn’t been helpful and Shelly had only made him feel pathetic. The truth was, he wouldn’t have minded the long drive every weekend. Maybe even a few weeknights. It wasn’t as if the place wasn’t a luxurious haven once he got there. And he liked Holly enough to give it a try.
“Have you ever been stood up?” he asked Amanda without thinking. She was counting out her turn and landed her little metal dog onto Park Place.
“Buying it,” she said. “And yes.” She looked him in the eye for the very first time and there was a spark of interest there. “Who stood you up?”
As he was the banker, he took her money and handed her the real estate card. “Who stood you up?” he countered.
She slid the dice to his side of the board and he rolled. As he counted out his moves, he kept the corner of his eye on Amanda. She looked sourly at the game board.
“The first and only date I ever had,” she said. “I was going to make a hilarious video about it when it stopped hurting, but that hasn’t happened yet.”
“Wow. Sorry,” he said, finding it suddenly not so difficult to speak to the shy teenager. He looked around but the room was empty. “The person who stood me up works here.”
“The pretty receptionist?” Amanda asked, leaning across the table, her eyes wide with greed for gossip.
He shook his head. “No, not her. She sings in the show, too. You might see her tonight. She’s actually really good. I might be able to get her some commercials.”
She looked suspicious for a second that he’d veered into shop talk but still clearly wanted more answers. “Who, then?”
“The manager. Her family owns this place.”
Amanda sighed. “That’s so cool. I wonder if I could run a hotel? Why do you think she ditched you? I think my guy didn’t show up because my mother has a reputation for being a raging … not very nice person. She already had a list of questions for him and was even planning to take his picture! Not for memories, but to show the cops in case I never came home.” She shuddered. “That kind of behavior gets around.”
His head spun as the words spilled out of her. He remembered Holly’s advice to be honest. “I don’t know why she ditched me. I thought we were getting along so well. I seriously like her.”
Amanda gave him a commiserating look. “Don’t give up, then. Give her another chance.”
“What about my pride?” he asked.
“Is your pride going to keep you warm at night?”
He burst out laughing and she tentatively joined in. “No, it isn’t. But what about you? Would you have given that guy another chance?”
“Yes,” she said, far too sadly for someone her age. “But he didn’t want one. My mother worries people only like me because of my popularity or money, but he obviously didn’t care at all about that.”
“You need to be around more people on your same level, Amanda. There are plenty of kids your age in the city who are making a living off their talents.”
She didn’t look impressed at all with the change of subject so he zipped it. Every time he veered toward business she clammed up. But that was why she was here, wasn’t it? To learn what he could offer her as her agent?
There was an old grandfather clock in the corner and he surreptitiously glanced at it. Still an hour until the show. He was already exhausted. He’d shivered out on the porch until eleven, then waited up to see if Holly called or texted him. Then he’d moaned to his assistant for a half hour before she hung up on him. He came down for breakfast at the crack of dawn in the hopes of seeing her, but another girl was setting out the bagels.
“So, are you going to give her one?” Amanda asked.
“One what?” he asked, having lost the thread of the conversation due to his brief bout of self-pity.
“A second chance? Are you going to give the manager woman a second chance?”
He moved his game piece around the board, purposely miscounting so he landed on Park Place. “That’s yours,” he said. “What do I owe you?”
“Don’t dodge the question,” she said sternly. “You said you really like her. Are you going to give her another chance at all this?” She waved her hands around his head like he was a contest prize.
He laughed before turning serious. “Yes. If she wants one, she gets one.”
***
Holly didn’t mean to overhear Mason’s voice coming from the common room. She didn’t mean to stop and stick her ear to the door, either. But she did. She only meant to see how he was doing with the young woman he wanted to represent. Holly could tell how much it meant to him and she wanted him to succeed. When she’d heard the conversation was about her, she jumped away from the door. For about three seconds.
She ended up more miserable than she’d started, and that was pretty miserable. What had she hoped to find out through eavesdropping? She knew she’d hoped that Mason would have cursed her name and swore he was done with her. Instead she overheard an earnest proclamation of how much he liked her and that she was about to get a second chance after forgetting about him.
“That can’t happen,” she muttered as she hurried away from the door. If he got near enough to offer her a second chance, declare his feelings for her, she’d fold like cake batter.
Stay focused.
She had to stay out of his way. How hard could it be? He was checking out the next morning, so she would stay in her office the rest of the day. Have her dinner sent up while she pored over her job offers. She didn’t know how she could possibly be so miserable with so many lucrative offers to choose from.
By noon she’d had six emails inquiring what her salary needs were. By three she’d had four outright offers with impressive signing bonuses. There had even been a nibble from another theme resort, a place called Space Trip, out in Nevada. As intrigued as she was at the outer space theme, she didn’t think she could live in the desert. She was used to green, rolling hills, acres of woodlands, and regular rain. The seasons changing were her favorite times of the year. It was the thought of leaving her home that made her so miserable.
Not Mason.
But he wasn’t helping, either. How could he be so sweet and open and honest? She almost doubled over with the pain of having to disappear on him as if he hadn’t meant anything to her. She was a coward, plain and simple. If she saw him, she’d be a blubbering mess, spilling out her problems to him if only to have his strong arms around her. And she couldn’t share her problems with him because he was leaving the next morning. She’d solve them on her own and hopefully the pain of losing the opportunity to have a relationship with such a good man would fade over time.
She hunkered down at her desk, determined to make it start fading as soon as possible. She’d called the clinic her mother had been getting her treatments from and got the cost breakdown of the next round. Without hesitation, she’d made the first appointment, assuring them Betty would be there.
The first offer she pulled up in her email was the one she was most likely going to accept. She’d wait a few more days to see what else filtered in, but she could see herself living in Oregon. It was far away but that’s why the Wright brothers had invented air travel.
The hotel was an up and coming boutique resort that wanted to upgrade to being the top of its class. She was flattered they thought she could help with that, and she couldn’t help looking over their website. She was already flooded with ideas for the place. The salary was more than fair, they’d promised profit share, and the signing bonus would take care of the first round of her mother’s treatments. It was perfect.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “They’re tears of happiness,” she said to her blotchy reflection in the mirror.
The chipped gilt frame had pictures stuck in by their edges and rows of necklaces hung off one corner. She pulled down the gaudy bead strands. She hadn’t worn some of them since high school. Looking around her room, she noticed all the things that were old and unused. More pictures, her embarrassing hat collection, the porcelain animals her grandfather gave her every birthday. A tattered scarf, one of the last presents her father gave her before he gave up on them. It was all clutter, really. She’d be glad to start fresh in another place. Where everything would be new and no precious memories would ever annoy her like they were now.
“Ugh,” she said. “I need chocolate, stat.”
She checked the clock. The show would be ending soon so she’d have to hurry to avoid accidentally seeing Mason in the halls. But now that the seeds of chocolate had been planted, she knew she had to get some. Denying the need for chocolate in times of stress could only lead to madness.
She hung out in the storage closet for a while, trying to memorize every last decoration and gift shop gew-gaw. She shook her head at her maudlin attitude. It wasn’t as if she was going to prison. The job offer had promised ample vacation time. She realized she couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken time off. Her job here was her life. It didn’t feel like work most of the time. She’d never felt the drudgery of a daily grind. Would she be able to handle it?
She laughed at herself, being overly dramatic again. Gosh, was her mother going to bawl when she found out. Holly would have to make sure to perfect her fake happiness. Betty could never know she was the reason Holly was leaving. She’d have to think it was the same reason as her other daughter. New opportunities, a change of scene— hmmm, she might have to call Ivy and get some pointers on how to actually sell that load of stale marshmallows.
She was pleasantly full of chocolate cherries and mint cremes and decided to go back to her room and fall asleep early. Let the inn try and run without her for one blessed evening. It was going to have to do without her all the time soon.
Making her way stealthily down the hall, fiercely warning herself not to cry again, she thought she heard someone else crying. She stopped and listened and sure enough, great, heaving sobs came from the darkened common room.
Inside the room, Holly saw a hunched over figure by the window, weeping into her hands. “Are you all right?” she asked gently, coming closer.
“I’m okay,” the girl sobbed.
Clearly, she wasn’t. “I’m the manager here,” Holly tried again after a few moments. The girl didn’t seem like she was letting up. “Can I get you anything? A phone? A glass of water? Was it the food? Are you ill?”
Holly couldn’t help it. She was paranoid about foodborne illnesses. Her restaurant had never been the cause of one and she meant to keep that record going. When she remembered it wasn’t going to be her restaurant soon, she almost joined the girl in her blubberfest.
“Y-you’re the manager? You’re the one who stood up Mason?” She paused slightly in her crying to act curious, then went back to lamenting.
This was Amanda, the internet sensation she’d overheard talking to Mason in this very room that afternoon. Holly burned with embarrassment, but the poor girl was so distraught she pushed it aside.
“Yes, well.” That couldn’t be what was wrong with her. “What is it? Please tell me if something or someone here upset you. I’ll make it right.”
“It’s because it was so beautiful,” Amanda choked out. “It’s all perfect. A perfect C-Christmas.”
“The show made you cry, you mean?” Holly still didn’t understand, but patted Amanda’s shoulder. To her shock, the teenager flung herself into Holly’s arms and sobbed harder than ever.
“The show, this place, everything. It’s how Christmas should be.” Her voice was muffled against Holly’s sweater. “M-my parents got divorced three years ago and ever since then it’s sucked. My mom can’t be bothered except to unwrap all the presents I get from fans. She didn’t even have a tree last year because it was my dad’s year. But he has this new girlfriend who made him go to the Bahamas. They said I could go, but I could tell they didn’t want me and besides, who wants it to be hot for Christmas?” She leaned back and looked at Holly with disgust at such a notion.
“Not me,” Holly agreed.
Hearing Amanda’s woeful reasons for getting emotional after the show had her thinking back to the awkward holidays she’d spent with her father. A cheap metal tree one year, the next no tree at all, the next he’d wanted to go to a movie instead of eat dinner. Theater nachos for Christmas dinner! It had been the last straw and she’d refused to spend another Christmas with him. A year after that she’d refused to visit him at all and he’d never argued. Never gone to court to demand his rights. She’d been ten the last time she saw him.
“I wish I could have Christmas here,” Amanda said. “You know how it should be.”
“Well, you can, sweetie,” Holly said, finding her own voice a little scratchy after her trip down memory lane. “We’re a hotel, after all.”
Amanda pushed away from her, wiped her face and shook her head. “It wouldn’t be the same. It’ll never be the same.” She was no longer crying, but she looked so sad Holly hugged her again.
“I know,” she said. “But we make our own Christmas cheer, remember that. And you’re welcome here any time.”
“Do you think I could sing in the show?” Amanda asked out of the blue.
Before Holly could process that request, Mason burst in, gasping for breath. “Oh, thank God I found you. I’ve been looking everywhere. Your car’s still here but you disappeared.” He dropped into the seat next to Holly and looked at her sheepishly. “Is, uh, everything all right?”
“I was just asking the manager here if I could sing in the show.”
“My name is Holly, and I guess we could arrange it,” she said slowly.
“I’m really good, don’t worry.” Amanda pulled out her phone and tapped away at it for a second. “Tell her, Mason.”
“She’s got an amazing voice,” Mason agreed. “What’s this now about being in what show?”
Amanda held her phone in front of Holly’s face, a video of Amanda singing already playing. It was a gorgeous cover of a Mariah Carey song. Neither one of them had been exaggerating her talent.
“Uh, yeah, you can sing in the show,” Holly said.
“Tomorrow?” she asked in the way only a teenager could ask something.
Holly looked incredulously at Mason, who gave her a beseeching look. She’d hid out from him the whole day. He’d said he’d give her another chance if she wanted one.
“Well, we normally book guest singers through their agents,” Holly said. “If you put me in touch with that person, I’m sure we can work something—”
“Mason’s my agent,” Amanda said. She turned to him and held out her hand. “Aren’t you?”
He shook it and nodded. “Yes. That’s right. You want me to negotiate a guest spot at this resort?” he asked.
“I can spend the night and have the whole day tomorrow to prepare,” Amanda said. “My mother can bring a dress down from my house. I have this long silver evening gown I’ve never been able to wear, but a designer sent it to me. Do you think I could have a white spotlight and twinkle lights at my feet? Hair up or down? Well we can figure that out tomorrow.” She tapped at her phone some more. “So is it settled? Tomorrow night?”
Holly couldn’t believe this whirlwind had been a sniveling mess less than ten minutes ago. “I may not be able to afford your rates,” she said.
“I don’t want to be paid. I just want it to be perfect.”
Well, that wasn’t asking too much. Still, if it made a sad kid happy and it didn’t cost Holly anything, why not let her sing? The diners certainly wouldn’t mind hearing such a voice.
“Sure. Tomorrow night sounds fine. But let me comp your room since you’re going to perform for free.”
“No, don’t be silly. I have bushels of money.” She continued tapping away at her phone, a smile forming at her lips. “This is going to be so epic.”
“She does have bushels of money,” Mason agreed under his breath. “Let her pay you for the room.”
Holly shrugged. Another full room and a free guest singer? It seemed it was her lucky night. “I’ll go get you checked in,” Holly said, feeling like she’d been running in a storm.
“Okay, I’ll be right there,” Amanda said, barely glancing up from her phone. “I’m just telling everyone I know how fantastic this place is.”
“That’s sweet, thanks,” Holly said. Word of mouth was her best form of marketing.
Mason followed her as she went to the check-in counter. She hadn’t felt too awkward around him with the Amanda buffer but now that they were alone, her stomach flip-flopped.
Please, don’t let him say anything adorable. She wanted to stay strong.
“Looks like I got you a guest,” he said, raising his eyebrows. Too cute for her. Too kind. Yes, her ditching him had been an honest mistake. A mistake he would easily forgive if she’d give him the chance. She could still give him the chance.
Holly matched his raised eyebrow. “Looks like I got you a client,” she sassed back. Keep it light. He’d go to bed, alone, and check out in the morning. She just had to stay strong.
“That you did. Thank you for that.”
She hadn’t meant for him to thank her. They were teasing each other. “I’m glad you signed her,” she said.
“But what happened? At the end of the show she looked like she might burst into tears and the next thing I knew she was gone.”
“It was nothing,” Holly said. “Just a couple of divorce kids crying about crappy Christmases.”
“Huh. No wonder she wants to be a part of this place. It’s exactly like a happy family.”
Her eyes welled up and she looked away. “Thank you,” she said huskily. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s said about us.”
“Feel free to put it in the next brochure,” he said, back to joking.
She was finished with checking Amanda in, only needed to give her the key card. The perfect way to extricate herself. But Amanda flounced through the lobby, taking her key card and Holly’s escape plan.
“You should get her to sign your contract before she performs tomorrow,” Holly said, her overwhelming concern for Mason’s business overriding her desire to get away quickly and silently. “She seems like a sweet kid, but kind of flighty.”
“I’m having my assistant write it up as we speak,” he said with a grin. “I need to bring more clients here. This place is lucky for me.”
She nodded. She wouldn’t be here if he came back with clients but she wasn’t about to tell him that. She wished one last time that she could plunk Mason down on the porch swing, cuddle down under one of the flannel blankets they kept out there for guests, and spill her guts. She didn’t want him to fix anything for her. Thanks to all the offers in her inbox, the most important thing, her mother’s treatment, was almost under control. She only wanted him to listen, hug her tight, and reiterate to her that she had it under control. If it didn’t make her so sad, she’d wonder why it mattered at all.
Because you like him. Because you wish things were different.
“How about one last gaze at the stars?” he asked, looking so inviting her knees went weak.
She wished he hadn’t said “one last”. It only reminded her how futile it was. She heard Ivy shouting in her ear to just enjoy the darn moment and stop making everything so serious. She wished she could be more like that. But she couldn’t. And it was serious to her. It already hurt enough. One last night would make everything harder than it was.
She had paperwork to finish up. She always liked to check on everything before she went to bed. There were plenty of excuses she could have offered him.
“I’m sorry, Mason,” she said. “I’m just too busy.” She hated her stiff business-like tone. Hated everything at that moment. She looked away from his hurt, confused face and hurried back to her office.
Idiot, she told herself.