Chapter Twenty-One
Darcy
Two days until Christmas
Darcy refused to let what happened with Myles make her enjoy the season any less. The Inglenook Inn was at full capacity, the fire was crackling in the grate giving the lounge an ethereal glow, Christmas music played low on the speaker in the corner, and she’d just finished a FaceTime session with Sofia, Gabriella and Kyle. They were all geared up for Christmas in Switzerland and, although they missed New York at this time of the year, the backdrop they had shown Darcy was spectacular.
During her FaceTime call Myles had poked his head around the doorway on his way out to work. He’d hovered and she could tell he wanted to talk to her, but thankful for a reason not to, she kept chatting away. If it had been any other guest she would’ve paused the call, but not for him, not now. She’d seen him yesterday too, on his way out the door, but she’d been talking with the boys from upstairs at the time, listening to their stories about Central Park and how they wanted it to snow some more so they could build the biggest snowman anyone had ever seen.
The O’Sullivan family were next downstairs and settled in the dining room to a sumptuous breakfast of pancakes with maple syrup, hot buttered toast cut into doorstep-size pieces just like the kids wanted, and freshly squeezed orange juice. When the boys’ attention was on Rupert, who had allowed them to watch through the old-fashioned hatch as he flipped more pancakes high in the air with a practised ease, Darcy asked Adele when she wanted to start wrapping the presents.
‘We’re off out today,’ Adele explained, ‘going over to Brooklyn to meet up with friends, so how about tomorrow?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Darcy whispered conspiratorially. ‘I have wrapping paper, Sellotape, tags and ribbons.’ She’d offered the additional service to guests and Adele had been delighted to take her up on the offer.
‘This is such a lovely added extra,’ Adele enthused, ‘and between you and me, I hate wrapping!’
Darcy giggled. ‘Good job I don’t mind it then. We’ll get it done in no time.’
Darcy cleared some of the breakfast dishes and cutlery, stacked the dishwasher, ordered some new towels for the Inn before she totally forgot – she’d noticed some were getting threadbare and while they had enough, they couldn’t use a lot of them for guests and the last thing she wanted to do was run out. She paid another bill, scheduled a January inspection by the fire department, and then called Geoff’s brother on the number from the business card she’d kept in the top desk drawer since the night at The Plaza. She crossed her legs, fingers and anything else she could think of but she needn’t have worried because he’d been expecting her call. He scheduled a visit to the Inn for mid-January with a view to lining up corporate bookings soon after.
The snow had stopped for now, which was better for her guests even though Darcy knew the boys upstairs wouldn’t be too happy about it. But at least it meant they would be able to get downtown and head to Brooklyn more easily. It made it easier for anyone who had last-minute gifts to buy, those who were still working until they stopped to enjoy their own Christmas.
Tomorrow, the snow could come. It could tumble down and blanket the Inn, because it was Christmas Eve, and it was going to be a wonderful Christmas. She could feel it.
Darcy checked through the refrigerator in the kitchen and the huge pantry, anxious to make sure everything was in place for the big day.
‘You’ve done that a million times, Darce,’ Rupert scolded, using the name he sometimes gave her, particularly when he was in a jovial mood.
‘I know I have. I just want everything to be perfect.’
‘It will be, don’t worry.’ He’d finished with the lunches so shrugged on his puffy jacket and picked up his bag, prepared to head out into the cold. ‘I’ll be back by four o’clock in time for dinner.’
‘The O’Sullivans are out, I haven’t heard from a couple of the guests, but Holly has requested dining in. I emailed you her selections.’
‘That you did.’ He smiled. ‘Now stop fretting, we’ve got this. The Inglenook Inn is going to be the accommodation of choice. It’ll be shouted from the rooftops with a review and a feature next year.’
‘You didn’t mention it to Sofia yet, did you?’
‘No, but I think you should. She’ll only see it as a positive step.’
‘I’m not sure.’ Sofia wouldn’t be very understanding if Holly’s article was published with comments about the manager interfering in guests’ personal business. Darcy had a sudden panic that the woman in the restrooms at The Plaza would’ve told other people, and then each of those probably passed it on to more acquaintances. The rumours could’ve multiplied and become totally out of control.
‘Darcy, Sofia needs to step out of her comfort zone,’ Rupert assured her.
Maybe he was right. And when he left her to it she wondered whether that was exactly what she needed to do in her personal life. Then again, she’d already tried. And look how well that had gone.
*
Darcy was busy sorting through wrapping and Sellotape and all the additional bits and pieces she’d need to help Adele, when Isabella popped in on her way to meet Jake to do some last-minute shopping. Thankfully she only had ten minutes to spare in which to quiz her friend about the night at The Plaza.
‘So come on, out with it.’ Isabella didn’t hesitate in getting to the point. Her hat was still on, her scarf in place and coat done up. She’d only removed her gloves to allow herself some inside warming-up time before she ventured out into the depths of Manhattan again.
‘Out with what?’ Darcy stacked the rolls of paper below her desk, where she knew the kids never went. They’d been told by both parents they were never to venture round the other side and right now they were on their guard against Santa’s elves catching them doing anything untoward. ‘I told you, Isabella. It was a first date and it’ll be our last. Men are complicated, and I’ve got too much going on right now to think of anything else.’
‘You always put work first.’
‘Well that’s just about all we had in common, to be honest.’ Darcy stacked scissors and Sellotape behind the rolls of wrapping paper. Ian Cunningham had already taken her up on her offer and asked her to wrap one gift, safely stowed inside a white, square cardboard box. She’d returned it to his room this morning, wrapped in red paper and tied off with a green satin bow. She assumed it must be for his wife and he needed it ready for when he left the Inn this afternoon to catch his flight back to England.
‘Oh I do wish you’d give him a chance,’ Isabella urged.
‘It was his fault I ended up losing my job once upon a time, remember.’ In simple terms, if Myles hadn’t made a complaint, Darcy would never have been dismissed from her position.
‘I thought you’d moved past that.’
‘He also bad-mouthed me via email for putting up the tree and interfering in his life.’ She watched her friend’s face drop. ‘And that email is more than likely winding its way to the editor staying in the room right above our heads, and therefore my feature write-up she promised could possibly end up being the worst decision I’ve ever made.’
‘Oh.’
‘Exactly.’
Darcy had been remiss in lighting the fire today because with one thing after another she hadn’t even cleared out the grate. She got the brush and a pan and knelt down in front of the fireplace to do the job.
‘Why would he ask you out if he’d been bad-mouthing you? I mean, if he just wanted to get you into bed, he wouldn’t be likely to make you go along to a work function, surely.’
‘Who knows, Isabella. I’m tired of trying to work some people out.’
‘Did he apologise?’
‘Of course.’
‘And was the email sent a while back?’
‘Yes, but it doesn’t matter. He still said those things about me.’
When Isabella’s phone pinged impatiently and she pulled a face, Darcy knew the interrogation had come to its conclusion.
‘I’ve got to go, Darcy.’ Isabella gave her friend a hug.
‘Thanks, I needed that.’
‘I thought so. You act like you’re not bothered by the date that didn’t turn into anything more, but I’ve known you a long time. I know you are hurting.’
‘OK, agony aunt.’
Isabella stopped her from bending down to pick up the brush and pan again. ‘I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Darcy. It’s more than lust on his part.’
At least she made Darcy laugh. ‘You can’t tell that much from a look.’
‘I can,’ she shrugged, and then embraced her friend again. ‘I’ll see you a couple of days after Christmas, for lunch. I’ll book somewhere – Italian?’
‘Sounds perfect to me. I should be hungry by then.’
‘I’ll bet the feast you’re planning for here is huge.’
‘It certainly is.’ She’d never made a Christmas lunch before, let alone been the hostess for multiple guests, and although she was nervous, she knew with Rupert at the helm she had no need to be. She’d be able to write it up on the website, advertise the event for future Christmases to come, add photos of happy guests, a sumptuous dinner with all the trimmings.
Isabella pulled on her gloves. ‘Have a wonderful Christmas, my beautiful friend. I’m sorry we won’t make the Christmas Eve Party.’
‘You’ll be far too busy with Jake to miss me,’ Darcy smiled. ‘Merry Christmas, Isabella.’
She drew in her breath and puffed it out again. ‘Now wish me luck, I’m heading to Macy’s. Jake, as usual, has left his shopping until the last minute.’
Laughing, Darcy said, ‘I will wish you lots of luck, you’ll need it.’
After she’d waved Isabella off, Darcy turned to carry on clearing out the grate. She swept out the ashes, she took them to the trash, she arranged logs and kindling in the familiar way she knew would allow the fire to evenly disperse. She pushed small pieces of firelighter in between logs at equal intervals to help it along and then got it going. Crouched down, she watched the flames take hold. Sometimes, late at night, when she’d closed the damper and all the guests had gone to bed, she’d sit here and daydream about running her own inn one day, as the last flickers of orange made everything glow.
She heard the door to the brownstone shut and Ian Cunningham walked in. With thinning hair, his scalp was as red as his face. ‘You didn’t wear a hat?’ she queried.
‘I’d already packed it.’ He shook his head. ‘I thought, not a problem, it’s not even snowing.’
‘Ah, New York can catch you out that way. It’s a bit different from England.’
‘Of course, I keep forgetting you were over there for a while and that you met Myles before.’
Darcy turned back to tend to the fire that was already capable of looking after itself.
‘Darcy, give him a chance.’
‘Mr Cunningham, I—’
‘His issues with Christmas are something that have gone on for far too long, but he’s making headway. We all seem to be.’
Darcy was surprised by this man’s determination to help his son, but maybe he felt he owed it to Myles. His voice explained, yet his eyes pleaded and her insides knotted at the thought she was adding to his angst. But she had to stay focused. She didn’t want to mess around. She wanted to keep building her career and with Myles causing trouble twice, she didn’t have the time or the energy for anything else.
‘I’ve made a lot of mistakes,’ Ian continued, ‘and he did well considering. He’s not a bad person.’
Darcy had often been the sounding board for guests, but she’d never been embroiled in the complications before. She couldn’t even tell him to stay out of it, because he was a paying guest and to do so would be impolite.
She said it the best way she knew how. ‘I shouldn’t have become involved with a guest. It wasn’t professional of me.’
When the brownstone door creaked open again Darcy hoped it wasn’t Myles, home early from work. She didn’t think she could face both Cunningham men at once.
But it wasn’t. It was a woman Darcy didn’t recognise. Timid, with hair highlighted grey and blonde and drawn back in a bun, she immediately unbuttoned her coat as she met the heat of the room.
‘Good afternoon.’ Darcy stepped forward but the woman only met her gaze momentarily before she locked her focus onto Ian.
‘My god! Martha.’ Ian, flummoxed, didn’t take long to step forwards and take this woman in his arms.
Darcy deduced it wasn’t a potential guest stepping in off the street, but Myles’s mum. She moved away and occupied herself with tidying the desk, shuffling papers, checking email. But when Ian and Martha didn’t move from in front of the fire she had no hope of avoiding overhearing them.
‘I’m flying home this afternoon,’ said Ian, eyes still wide with surprise.
‘Cancel the flight. Winston is having Christmas with Victoria and the kids. You, Myles and I are having Christmas together. I don’t care where: at a hotel, at a local deli if we can find one open, a takeaway in Central Park if we have to. But I couldn’t stand being there and Myles not coming home. I can’t go back to how it was, not ever. Something needs to change.’
The desperation in her voice stunned Darcy. She watched Ian reach out and touch his wife’s face. Darcy wanted to leave, give them privacy, but doing so would draw attention to herself as she passed them.
‘Where are you staying?’ Ian asked.
‘I hadn’t thought past getting here and seeing you both.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll sort something out.’
‘What time will Myles be back?’
‘I’ve no idea. We said our farewells this morning. Probably late, knowing Myles.’
Darcy could feel him looking at her and willed him not to refer to her date, perhaps suggesting she might have heard from Myles and know when he would return. She wanted to stay professional from now on. There was no room for tangled emotions to get in the way.
‘Darcy…’ Ian came over to the desk. ‘Is there any way I could extend my stay here?’
Darcy hated giving guests bad news. ‘I’m so sorry, Ian. I can give you an extra night tonight, but tomorrow I have new guests checking in for the Christmas period.’
‘Not to worry. We’ll figure something out.’
‘I’ll help you. How long do you need to stay?’ It was going to be next to impossible to find something in the city at such short notice, but she could ring round for them. She’d already run her hand along a set of notebooks, pulling out the maroon one she knew contained details of other well-respected establishments they could recommend when they had no room. In turn, those same establishments often recommended the Inn when they were in the same position, so it worked both ways.
Martha spoke up so Darcy would know how long they needed. ‘I have a return flight booked for December 29th.’ She looked at her husband. ‘We’ll need to book you another seeing as you’re missing your flight today.’
‘We’ll think about that later. But thank you, Darcy, for the extra night tonight, and it would be very helpful if you could make some calls to see if there’s somewhere that’ll have room at such short notice for the extra five nights.’
Ian suggested to Martha that they go up to his apartment. She looked shattered, they both did. There were so many emotions stirring beneath the surface that all Darcy wanted to do was find them a place to stay and take a weight off their mind.
She started with some of the smaller boutique hotels but no luck. She called hotels midtown, downtown, uptown, but still nothing. She called cheap hotels, mid-range accommodations, even the more expensive – but she might have known Manhattan itself was at full capacity, not just the Inn.
‘How’s it going?’ Ian asked when he reappeared an hour later. ‘I’ve left Martha upstairs taking a long shower. She’s worn out.’
‘I’ll bet she is.’
‘Any luck?’
Darcy shook her head. ‘We might have to look outside of the city.’
‘That could work, as long as it isn’t too far. Martha is insistent we have Christmas together with Myles. I’m not sure how he’s going to feel about it, but it’s what she wants and, I think, what we all need.’
Darcy tried not to get lost in the emotions of it all. She couldn’t empathise with Myles because it would make her weak, make her susceptible to being persuaded to give him another chance.
‘I do have one idea, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it,’ she said. The fire crackled and spat out onto the rug so she went over to make sure the spark hadn’t done any damage, and pulled the glass front down. Sometimes she liked to leave it completely open but it was roaring away from the extra log she’d put on as she waited to connect through to one of the major hotels in Manhattan.
‘And what’s that?’
‘Myles has a sofa bed in the apartment on the top floor. It’s an enormous space up there and I have all the extra bedding. And you have the Christmas tree,’ she added with a flourish before remembering how that had instigated so much trouble when it was meant to bring joy. ‘I’ll charge you a minimal sum for the remaining nights, it’ll be cheaper than any hotel, and it’ll give you and your family some time together.’
When Ian roared with laughter Darcy asked, ‘What’s so funny?’
‘I’m just picturing Myles’s face in the mornings, when he comes out to see his parents on his sofa bed. Don’t get me wrong. We do need family time, but I think we’re under a lot of strain already, so I don’t want to make it worse.’
‘But if you stay somewhere else, especially out of the city, you won’t have anywhere near enough time together.’ She hesitated. ‘I hope I’m not speaking out of turn…’
‘Go on, dear.’ He touched a hand to her arm. ‘I’m happy to hear your opinion. Lord knows I’ve spent enough years too internally focused rather than thinking about life from everyone else’s point of view.’
‘Well, from what you’ve said, and what Myles has told me, the problems you’ve been having aren’t going to be solved in one conversation.’
‘Ain’t that the truth?’
She grinned at the colloquial English ‘ain’t’. It was a long time since she’d heard one of those. ‘Why don’t you talk with Myles – give him a call and ask him?’
Ian shook his head. ‘I don’t want to tell him Martha is here yet.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m afraid he’ll stay out even later, avoid the whole situation. At least if he comes back to the Inn, which I know he will because he’ll want to see you,’ he winked, ‘Martha will see him tonight and we can begin the process of talking properly with one another, putting the past to rest and moving on. At least that’s what I’m hoping.’
‘I think you’re underestimating your son,’ she said, buoyed by the comment about him wanting to see her, even though she knew she shouldn’t be. ‘Maybe he’ll surprise you and want to sort things out as much as you do.’ Here she went again, interfering. But Ian didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, he seemed to appreciate having a neutral party to confide in.
Ian sat down on the sofa opposite the fire and stared into the flames. ‘Let’s hope you’re right.’
With the rest of the Inn quiet for now, Darcy sat next to him. ‘You look worried.’
‘I just don’t want this to blow up in our faces.’
‘You’ll be in trouble if it does.’ She smiled and met his gaze. ‘I don’t want any fighting around the dinner table at Christmas.’
‘God, I hadn’t even thought about that. Myles is here for lunch isn’t he?’ He clasped his fingers together in front of him on his lap.
‘Not a problem at all. Christmas lunch I can do.’
Martha appeared and came over to join them. ‘Christmas lunch sounds good.’
Darcy stood up to leave them alone.
‘Please, sit.’ Martha gestured to the armchair beside them in such a maternal way that Darcy felt she had no choice. She reminded her of her own mum, wanting to make sure every visitor was looked after and didn’t want for anything. ‘How’s the search going?’
She’d clearly been unable to relax upstairs, this playing on her mind. Darcy reiterated everything she’d told Ian, the suggestion she’d made.
Martha was thinking the same way as her husband. ‘I think the relationship between Myles and me is far too delicate to survive an intrusion. I should’ve thought of this,’ she berated herself.
‘You were thinking with your heart not your head,’ said Ian. ‘It’s a good thing.’
Darcy had to do something. ‘Let me book you in somewhere. The subway and trains will run, even if it’s a reduced service. The main thing is that you’ll have somewhere to stay and there’ll be no pressure on Myles.’
‘We appreciate it. Anywhere will do.’ But Martha wasn’t looking at her, she was solely focused on Ian.
Darcy left them beside the fire, fixed them both a cup of coffee and then settled at her desk to start making the calls.
Less than an hour later the door to the brownstone swung open and in came Myles. By the look of his coat and the white dusting on each shoulder, the snow was starting to fall outside again.
‘Hey,’ he said, gingerly stepping into the lounge as Darcy finished on another call.
‘Hey.’ Darcy willed him to take another step so his view was no longer obscured. Right now it was all he needed to do to see his parents tucked next to each other on the sofa opposite the fire. Both of them had heard his voice and looked too frightened to move.
‘I’ve been wanting to talk to you ever since the other night,’ Myles began, striding towards the desk in the lounge, not even turning his head left to see who was waiting for him. ‘I can only apologise again for something I had no intention of going any further than the person I emailed.’
‘Myles,’ she tried, but he went on.
‘I was having a moan, went into a rant, I wasn’t thinking clearly.’
‘Myles, I think—’
‘I don’t know how else to say I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the editor, I’ll tell her the truth, how this inn is the best place I’ve ever stayed, the hostess one of the loveliest women I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.’
Before Darcy could say anything else, Ian stood and when Myles heard a noise behind him he turned. ‘Dad, didn’t see you there.’ It took him a moment to look past Ian and to the sofa, where an anxious mother was waiting to see the reaction of her son. ‘Mum?’
‘I came to surprise you.’
Myles’s face fell. ‘You’ve certainly done that. Was this planned all along?’
Darcy could see exactly where this was going and she was powerless to stop it. Ian looked completely gutted, Martha looked devastated and Myles went on.
‘You thought you’d send Dad out here to sweet-talk me, then join him later when he’d paved the way. Why can’t you let me do things in my own time?’
Martha rose and came over to join both men. None of them seemed concerned that they were doing this in the lounge in front of Darcy.
‘It wasn’t planned, Myles. I can see why you would think that. But it wasn’t. I let Ian come out here; I didn’t want to, I thought it would be a bad idea. I did want to let you do things in your own time, but then I thought: you know what, if I do that we’ll never sort this out. This mess will keep snowballing until there’s no way back.’
She kind of had a point, Darcy thought. She went to move past them.
‘I need a hot shower,’ said Myles. ‘Then we’ll talk.’
His parents watched him go and Darcy was about to leave them to it when Holly came through the front door. She nodded to Ian and Martha as they went off to their apartment.
‘Good afternoon, Holly.’ Darcy tried to put aside the drama that had just taken place and, instead, pretend everything was normal. ‘Or should that be good evening?’ she smiled. Night had drawn a curtain over Manhattan already.
‘It’s really coming down out there.’ Holly brushed the excess white flakes from her hair although as they met the heat of the room they dissolved into droplets that soon made all traces of the weather outside disappear.
Darcy moved to the window and cupped her hands around her eyes to look out. ‘It really is!’ Perhaps they were going to get snow for Christmas after all. ‘Are you a fan of the snow?’
Holly held out a hand, tipped it left and then right. ‘Yes and no. At Christmas for sure. New Year’s too. But after that, you can shove it where the sun don’t shine.’
Darcy giggled. ‘Pretty much the way I feel too.’ Snow made Manhattan picture-postcard perfect for a while, until reality set in. Then it became hazardous on the streets, with pedestrians slipping on sidewalks, and the cold did a lot more than nip at your nose – it threatened your extremities and sometimes you wondered if you’d ever warm up.
‘Great for the Inn though.’ Holly had peeled off her coat, her gloves, an extra sweater and hung it all in the entrance lobby on the available hooks there for guests to use. ‘I’ll make sure I get some photos from across the street, this place covered in snow.’
‘Don’t you have professional photographers to do that for the magazine?’
‘We do but I’m also a keen photographer. It’s what I’d do if I ever changed career.’
‘Is that likely?’
‘Probably not. I enjoy my job for the most part. I can’t be bothered to change.’
Darcy checked her watch. ‘Rupert will have your dinner ready by six.’
‘That’s fantastic. Could you fix me a drink before then? I need something. And why don’t you join me? I could use the company. I’ve been trawling the streets, had two meetings and I need to unwind.’
Smiling, Darcy handed her the drinks menu. ‘Maybe after your dinner.’ It would give them a chance to talk and Darcy knew she had to just jump on in and tell Holly what she’d overheard. From the conversation they were having, she didn’t think Holly had any intention of bad-mouthing the Inn. But then you never knew, did you?
‘Deal. I’ll hold you to that.’
Holly ordered a Manhattan – when in Rome, she said – and Darcy added another log to the fire. She suspected this room would be used by guests all evening, especially those who didn’t have much of a view from their apartment and wanted to watch the snow coming down outside. While Holly was having her dinner Darcy found availability in a hotel in Brooklyn for Ian and Martha. It was smaller than the Inn but priced similarly and at short notice an absolute steal at Christmas. She said she’d confirm the booking in the morning when she’d checked with Ian and Martha. She didn’t want to disturb any of them tonight, because it appeared that family had enough going on already.
Holly raved about the food when she came through from the dining room after her dinner. ‘Your chef is brilliant. The chicken tonight was to die for.’
‘I’m glad you approve,’ smiled Darcy. ‘Same again?’ She went behind the bar counter.
‘Yes please, and tell me you’re joining me.’
‘I will, but mine will be a virgin cocktail. I have so much to do, and I’m still on duty remember.’
‘Oh come on, you’re a professional whether you’ve had a drink or not, and you’ll be keeping one of your guests very happy if you join me. Come on, what do you say?’
Darcy shook her head. ‘Just imagine my cocktail is the real thing.’
‘Not even for me, a customer who could tell a hundred other people how she stayed at a beautiful Inn in New York, where the fire crackles and the hostess makes you feel so very welcome?’
Darcy grinned. ‘You’re very persuasive when you want to be, but it’ll have to be another time.’ She fixed two Manhattans – one virgin – and took both drinks over to the sofa in front of the fire.
She handed Holly her cocktail and put the other down on the side table. ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you.’
‘Sounds serious. You’re not throwing me out are you? Only I don’t think I’ll be able to find anywhere else at short notice and I don’t ever want to go back to that apartment.’
Darcy grinned. ‘I’m not throwing you out. It’s about the party, the other night.’
‘The one I went to?’
‘Yes. At The Plaza.’
‘Wait, how did you know it was The Plaza? I don’t remember mentioning it.’
‘I was there.’
‘You were? Then you should’ve said hello! I was a plus one for a friend.’ She looked intrigued. ‘Were you with someone from the company? Who was it? There are some gorgeous men there – loaded, most of them, and some of them boring as hell, but a few good ones too.’ Holly’s personality was as fiery as her auburn hair, and Darcy only hoped it wouldn’t be unleashed in that article. At least not in a bad way.
‘I was with someone. It doesn’t matter who. It’s the conversation I overheard that I need to talk to you about.’
Eyes wide, Holly took another sip of her cocktail. ‘This sounds like gossip. And I love gossip.’
It was exactly what Darcy had been afraid of. ‘I was in the restrooms when I heard you.’
‘It’s something I said?’ She looked worried, and put her glass down on the other side table.
‘More something someone said to you.’
‘OK.’ She drew the word out slowly, unsure whether she was going to be in trouble or not.
‘I heard someone telling you about this place, about me, about an email from a guest who said I was some kind of Cinderella, fussing and interfering.’
‘You heard that?’ Discomfited, she said, ‘I can’t imagine that was particularly pleasant.’
‘It wasn’t.’
‘Do you know, I once wrote short stories, before my time at the magazine?’ Darcy wasn’t sure where this was going. ‘They were reviewed frequently and mostly those reviews were complimentary. But some of them stank. What was it one reviewer said?’ She thought hard. ‘That was it. She, or he – I have no idea of the gender from the username – said: “This woman doesn’t have a creative bone in her body. Her stories are dull, she should get a real job.” Nice, huh?’
‘Jeez,’ Darcy exhaled. ‘They didn’t hold back, did they?’
‘I know, not nice to read. That was my first bad review and it always stuck with me. But do you know what I did?’
‘What?’
‘I went and looked at reviews for some of the best pieces of writing around and they all, without exception, had scathing reviews amongst the many good ones. That woman at The Plaza? Well, if I could review her and her behaviour that night I would say, ‘This woman should learn to stop drinking champagne after the tenth glass and should probably go to a good lingerie store because she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath that gold dress and there was way too much side cleavage on display.’’
Darcy burst out laughing.
‘See, it’s one opinion, Darcy. She was ranting on and on about this email but, to be honest, it all went way over my head. I knew you already, I was staying here, I hadn’t had the experience that this person had clearly had.’
Darcy sipped her cocktail, nervous about confiding in a guest, a woman who had the power to slate the Inglenook Inn should she see fit. And if she talked to her about her personal life, was that overstepping the mark? Surely it was backing up the claim that the manager at the Inn wasn’t professional.
‘Do you know who the guest was?’ Holly asked.
Darcy hesitated. ‘I do.’
‘Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?’
Darcy only hesitated for a moment. She was so comfortable talking to Holly that it all came flooding out: how she’d known the guest on the top floor in London, how she’d put up the Christmas tree, how he’d despised her for doing so and then seen the light, how they’d gone on a date and it was all going well until she’d found out he’d sent that email.
‘Whoa.’ Holly downed the rest of her cocktail. ‘I’m gonna need another of these.’
Darcy did the honours and when she was sitting down, said, ‘He’s a man with a lot of issues. He’s apologised over and over.’
‘It sounds as though he regrets saying what he did.’
‘Maybe he does, but it’s too much drama. I don’t need drama.’
‘Hey, you’re preaching to the converted. I don’t do drama either, at least not when it comes to my own life. Now other people’s lives…perhaps I do, but not my own. I can see why you’re backing away.’
‘But…’ She knew there was more.
Holly grinned conspiratorially. ‘But…he’s hot! I’ve seen him a couple of times. Mmm…Mmm…’
Darcy shook her head and laughed. ‘That simple, huh?’
‘I didn’t say it was simple, but he’s hot. Fact?’
‘Fact.’
‘And he likes you, a lot, I’d say.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because men like him could get any woman they wanted. That party at The Plaza was filled with trophy wives, wives who are way more attractive than their husbands. Sorry, I tell it like it is,’ she said when Darcy refused to comment. ‘Your Myles—’
‘He’s not my Myles.’
‘Oh he is, you take my word for it. Your Myles could get a woman like that any day of the week, and there he is putting himself on the line and dating not only his landlady, but also a woman who pissed him off right from the start by putting a Christmas tree in his apartment. How dare you, by the way? What a terrible thing to do,’ she admonished in good humour. ‘Putting up a tree for someone, taking the time to try and make their Christmas as magical as you believe it can be.’
Her sarcasm made Darcy laugh hard. ‘I still shouldn’t have done it.’
Holly got more serious. ‘Maybe not, but I think if he didn’t really like you then he would’ve yelled at you, sent that email, and never bothered to pass the time of day with you again. But, he put himself out on a limb, I’m guessing, and asked you out. And he’s apologised more than once, you say, which means he’s not giving up quietly. I’ve had a few relationships in my time and one thing I’ve learnt is that men, outside of the boardroom, don’t tend to revel in conflict. It would’ve taken a lot of courage and dedication to keep on at you for forgiveness.’
Darcy watched the snow falling gently from the sky outside, creating a winter wonderland. She could just about make out a light coating on top of some of the car roofs, the railings on the brownstone on the opposite side of the street. ‘I’ve seen women rely on men and it’s one hell of a risk.’ There, she’d said it.
‘So have I, believe me. My sister for one.’
‘Really?’
‘She met a man who travels all over the world. She left her corporate job because she didn’t want to live as a single woman even though she was married. It was a huge sacrifice. At the time I thought she was crazy, but when I’m not being so cynical, the romantic in me says that sometimes, for the right person, it’s worth it.’
‘I’m not arguing with that.’ Darcy’s cocktail glass was empty and she toyed with the stem between her fingers. ‘But when it all goes pear-shaped, what is a woman left with? I decided early on that I wasn’t going to ever let it happen to me.’
‘Shit happens everywhere. Well it does.’ She refused to accept Darcy’s protestations. ‘Whether you’re in a relationship or not. My sister, she’s beyond happy. It’s sickening really. She’s never looked back and wished she’d kept her job. Then you’ve got my best friend, Lynne. Now her husband gave up his job to look after the kids while she was the one with the career, and that suits them just fine. Both these women could fall flat on their faces, or they could end up having the happiest of lives. There’s nothing to say your life won’t go to shit even if you’re on your own, completely independent.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘You know I am.’
‘I’m not sure you’ve made me feel any better.’
‘I’m sorry, I tend to tell it how it is. Which is exactly what I shall do when it’s time for the article write-up. The Inglenook Inn will be reviewed from my point of view. I’ll talk about the wonderful, honest, down-to-earth manager called Cinderella,’ she teased. ‘Just kidding, I’ll call you something else. I’ll tell readers about the way the brownstone looks from the street, like any other façade, but once you step inside there’s a glowing welcome with a cosy fireplace. I’ll talk about how if you stay at Christmas you can have a real tree in your own apartment, I’ll rave about the food from your brilliant chef, and your Christmas lunch.’ She patted Darcy’s hand. ‘How does that sound?’
‘It sounds good. I can try to get you a tree if you’d like.’
‘For my apartment? No. I’d rather socialise in here with this beautiful tree. I think I need other people around me. It’s what Christmas is about after all.’
‘You’re right.’ Darcy understood. ‘I’m glad you’re settling in here.’
‘And I’m glad I bumped into you.’ She smiled. ‘Give the man a chance, eh?’
Darcy let out a long breath. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Haven’t you ever done anything you regret? It’s Christmas, and everyone deserves a second chance at this time of the year.’ She took her glass and Darcy’s over to the bar.
‘That’s my job,’ said Darcy, getting up to follow her as the O’Sullivans came bustling through the front door, colourful coats jostling together as they chatted amongst themselves.
‘I’ll say goodnight,’ Holly smiled. ‘I’m going upstairs to spoil myself with a bubble bath.’
After she left Darcy chatted with the boys from upstairs as they speculated as to whether Santa Claus would realise they weren’t at home this Christmas.
Rupert came through from the kitchen. ‘All done for the night,’ he said as the O’Sullivans warmed themselves in front of the fire. ‘And I’ve left you a chicken dinner.’
‘You’re a star, I’m famished.’ Darcy hadn’t realised it’d been so long since she’d eaten, what with Ian, Martha and Myles and the complications that went with them, and then her conversation with Holly. ‘Did you get my note about extras for Christmas lunch?’
‘I did. Now stop worrying. We’re all set.’
‘That’s a relief, thank you. Are you OK?’ He looked exhausted.
‘Just tired, that’s all. Early night for me and I’ll see you in the morning. We’re almost there,’ he smiled. ‘Christmas at the Inglenook Inn for the first time, and it’s going to be wonderful.’
Darcy crossed her third finger over her index finger on each hand. ‘I really hope so, Rupert.’