He would have none of it.
Folding his hands, he leaned toward her over his desk blotter. “You’re here to do a job. You have a show scheduled, I believe, in just about two weeks. I’ve left the details to Nell to coordinate. Anything you need, please see her.”
Emilie’s lips thinned and her chin set. “I need the ice fixed, Nathan. It’s unacceptable.”
Only being able to open half the rink was unfortunate, but it was the compromise with the expenses he’d had to make with Rob, his principal investor, to keep it open at all.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s as fixed as it can be. What you see is what I have to offer.”
She gaped at him. “We can’t skate on that so-called ice!”
“I saw what you skated on aboard the ship. That surface was quite small.”
“It’s not the size—it’s the unevenness. I need a smoother and more functional ice surface. Anything less just won’t work for my skaters.”
Maybe he should’ve checked Guy’s work. Nathan would consult with him tonight. “Very well. I’ll look into it.”
“That’s not good enough!”
He stared at Emilie. She was bristling with anger. She could be a very protective mama bear when it came to her people. He had loved that about her. He willed himself to stay resolute in the face of her anger. “It will have to be, Emilie.”
“Why are you doing this, Nathan?” she asked between her teeth. “You know we need a dedicated Zamboni driver to work with us.” She shook her head. “Come on, you remember how we operate—an ice technician, more lighting...” She ticked off her requirements on her fingers. “And external heaters—firepits, I’m thinking, at least for the audience.”
“A Zamboni driver is working with you. I’ll supervise him myself when he clears the ice again to make sure it’s smooth enough,” he conceded. “But that’s all. And you’ll have to wait until I can talk to him later tonight, when I’m not busy. Beyond that, I’ll instruct Guy to prepare the ice each morning before you arrive. But that’s all he can do for you, Emilie. That’s the agreement I made with your production company.”
“You’re going to judge the quality of the ice, Nathan?”
“I know about preparing ice surfaces. I even drove the Zamboni when I was young. I was trained by the best.”
She threw up her hands. “You never told me any of this!”
“What does it matter?” he asked, suddenly tired. “It will be prepared for you each morning to the proper specifications. That’s all you need to know. Didn’t Nell tell you all of this?”
“No, but I didn’t specifically ask her.” Emilie took in a breath. “She’s doing a great job, by the way, so don’t blame her. She tried to protect you, but I insisted I had to talk to you one-on-one. And why not—because you’re keeping secrets from her.” Emilie took another breath and then shook her head. “You’re making things difficult for no reason. You could have told Nell the truth. You also could have informed me of your plans yourself, rather than keeping me in the dark. Do you think I enjoy being confrontational and causing bad feelings? Because I really don’t. I don’t enjoy it at all.”
True. Emilie preferred pleasing people. And yes, he was keeping secrets, all around.
He closed his eyes and leaned back. Nell didn’t know that he had a past with Emilie. Emilie didn’t know that his inn was inches away from going under.
He wished he could give her everything she wanted, or at least explain why he couldn’t. But his investors had made it clear the information was confidential. He’d taken a risk telling Nell.
“Please, Nathan,” Emilie appealed nakedly to him. “I concede that you have an agreement with my production company, but at least can’t you see about getting us transportation to and from the rink? With all of our gear, it’s too far for us to walk.”
She was right—it wasn’t practical for them to walk. There were ten skaters, plus all of their equipment bags and props. He hadn’t thought about that detail.
But how to address it? He’d stopped the shuttle bus service because of the inn’s money troubles. He could rent her a car, but to balance that expense, he would have to cut something else. And the last thing left to cut was the family shelter program.
He thought of Jason. No. He wasn’t putting that little boy into the cold—not under any circumstances.
There was only one solution.
He squared his shoulders. “You’re right. I forgot to prepare transportation for you. I’m sorry.” He reached into his pocket and took the key off the chain. “You can use my Jeep. I realize you’ll have to take a few trips to get everyone back and forth up the mountain, and I apologize for that, but it’s all I can offer you at this point.”
“Your Jeep? Your personal vehicle?”
“I’m not heartless, Emilie,” he said quietly. “I’m simply practical.”
And as she took the keys from him, looking befuddled, he realized another blunder he’d made. He’d been so intent on protecting himself from being affected by her that he’d forgotten what she had just gone through.
“I’m sorry about what happened on the Empress Caribbean,” he said quietly. “I hope you’re okay after that ordeal.” Really, this should have been the first thing he’d said to her.
She gazed at him softly, shaking her head. “Nathan, what’s become of you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve turned cold.”
Had he? Well, she had no idea what had been going on with him since they’d parted, either in his life or in his heart.
There was so much he couldn’t tell her. About his inn failing, about the fact that his finances were on the ropes, about the feelings he still carried for her...
Don’t think about that.
“I was concerned,” he admitted, “when I saw on the news that the Empress Caribbean had hit a reef. In fact, I checked my phone that day to see if you’d called me.”
Shoot. He hadn’t intended to admit that.
“I thought of you that day, too,” she said softly.
She had?
“The evacuation was traumatic for me, and also for the troupe.” Emilie paused. “I’m ice captain now. Did you remember that?”
“Of course I did.” How could he forget?
“Well.” She exhaled. He could tell she was trying to keep her dignity, too. “Thank you for the sympathy. But the best you can do for me is to help us be successful with our show.”
“Well, as long as your definition of success doesn’t affect my overall costs or my running of the inn, then you and I will be fine.”
“That means we’re in trouble, doesn’t it?” She raised one brow and shook her head lightly at him, gently poking fun. Then she turned serious. “Come on, Nathan, it’s Christmas. Think about the kids in town that we can perform for. Surely they need a nice rink?”
He was thinking about the kids. She had no idea.
“As I said, Emilie, I can host you here as long as it doesn’t add to my costs. That’s what I can offer you in the way of sanctuary. That’s my bottom line.”
“Grinch,” she murmured.
“Call Santa Claus and ask him for help.”
She snorted at him.
But their conversation was at an end.
And honestly, the situation made him sick. He’d love to give her a big beautiful rink with fantastic lighting and a dedicated ice technician like she’d had on the ship.
And he was tired of failing. So tired of feeling low and without hope.
He couldn’t give Emilie what she wanted from him. And what he wanted from her wasn’t even on her radar.
She might see it as him turning cold, but now all he could do was focus on the inn’s cash flow and revenues for this month. Try to meet the demands of his investors. Keep the inn open as long as possible, for those kids’ sak
es.
And that didn’t involve Emilie or her troupe. They were just a means to an end. They were part of his marketing without cost campaign.
She stood, sensing the meeting was over, as well. He held the door for her. At least now she wouldn’t want to see him again.
Why did that make him feel even lower?
* * *
EMILIE STOOD IN the hallway, feeling dazed. What had just happened? She’d lost that round—that was for certain. She’d gone up to Nathan’s office to ask for a nicer rink, and instead he’d stonewalled any of her attempts at improvement, anything that would cost him money.
They actually had an adversarial relationship now! He had no intention of supporting her troupe at all.
Hiring them hadn’t even been his idea.
She shook her head. He’d certainly turned hard where she was concerned. Once upon a time, they’d worked well together, but those days were over.
She headed downstairs to their rooms again. If she was going to impress Lynn and Donnie with her shows, it was clear she couldn’t count on Nathan to help her.
But what if she started her own campaign to promote the troupe?
She paused. Yes, it was genius! If people signed up to see their performances and hear their remarkable story, then Nathan wouldn’t be able to deny her request to fix up the facility. He would have no choice but to support them in the way that her plans required.
And Nathan? She’d need a campaign for him, too. To win him over, she was going to be in-your-face kind to him. Or maybe just in-your-face. Deal with him only through Nell? Nope. He was going to face her. Emilie wouldn’t take his not-so-subtle hint that he didn’t want to see her. She would wave to him, bring him coffee, roam his property to her heart’s content. She would encourage her skaters to treat him the same way, too.
The doors were open to three of the six rooms that her troupe occupied. Music played from the speakers on someone’s iPhone. Curtis and Lynette tossed a mini foam football back and forth in the corridor. Rosie was dressed as if she was still in Florida, showing off her dance moves as she tried to intercept the football away from Curtis.
“Team meeting!” Emilie called cheerfully. “Everyone into my room!”
Gary fell in beside her. “Let’s take the day off.”
“We’ve already had too many days off.” Emilie opened up her room with her keycard and then propped the door open with the wastebasket. Gary followed her inside, with Rosie close behind.
Emilie took off her coat and hat and tossed them onto one of the two double beds. “Rosie, will you go and get the others, please?”
“Julie is downstairs in the lounge.” Rosie grinned at Emilie. “There’s a really cute chef that works here. His name’s Claude. He’s from Paris originally.”
Interesting—a French chef. Julie had hung out with an Australian diver on the cruise ship. She’d told Emilie she liked men with accents.
“Okay, would you please go get her? And also knock on Katya’s door. Gary and Curtis, will you round up Lars, Sergei and Drew, please?”
“Sure thing, Ice Mom,” Gary said.
“It’s time to get serious! Our first performance is in less than two weeks, and we still need to adapt our show to the constraints of the new venue. And Lynn has also asked for a second show, separate from the Christmas one.”
Gary saluted her, winked and then headed off with Curtis. Lynette skipped off to tag along, too.
While Emilie waited for them all to return, she went out and grabbed her suitcase and bag from where they’d been left in the corridor, and then wheeled the case into her room to begin unpacking.
From the corner of her eye, something streaked past her on the floor. Something furry and gray, and scurrying on four legs.
Emilie shrieked and ran back into the hall.
A small boy crouched on the floor, looking frightened. He gazed up at her with big eyes.
“Oh,” Emilie said, light dawning. “That was the cat I saw earlier, wasn’t it? The inn cat that was up on the lobby couch.” In Katya’s lap.
The boy straightened. “He’s my cat. I’m responsible for him. Can I go get him, please?”
“Of course.” Then Emilie shuddered. “I hope he’s not chasing mice. I really don’t want to see any dead mice.”
“They’re better than live mice.”
“Hmm. Maybe you’re right.” But she certainly hoped that Nathan spent enough money to take care of any rodent problems. Knowing him, he figured the cat took care of that item on the expenses list. She shuddered again, not wanting to think about pest control.
But before the boy could go looking for his pet, the tabby cat crept back to the doorway of Emilie’s room, poking his sweet little head around the corner. The boy scurried over and lifted him into his arms.
“May I touch him?” Emilie asked, scooting down to the boy’s height.
“Yes. He likes people. He likes to play, too.”
She brushed the thick soft coat of the tabby cat’s fur. “What’s his name?”
“Prescott.”
“Oh! You named him after the inn.”
“Uh-huh.” The boy nodded.
“And who are you?” she asked.
“Jason.”
“Are you staying here with your parents, Jason?”
With a flushed face, he lowered his head and shook it.
“With who, then?” she asked gently.
“My mom,” he mumbled. “We live over here.” He pointed to the room directly across the hall.
“Ah. So you and I are to be neighbors. My name is Emilie. I’m in this room by myself, but my friends are in the five other rooms all down the hall on this side.”
Just then, a maid rounded the corner of the corridor, pushing a housekeeping cart.
“Hello, Greta,” Emilie said, reading the maid’s name tag.
Greta paused. To Jason, she chided, “You were supposed to wait upstairs in the break room with me.”
Jason hung his head further. “Prescott ran downstairs. I had to go get him.”
Emilie intervened on his behalf. “It’s quite all right. He and Prescott aren’t bothering anyone.”
“Still, his mother would like him to wait upstairs in the maids’ break room until she gets home from work.”
Jason sighed and pulled Prescott closer to his scrawny chest. Emilie could tell that Jason didn’t want to go back to the break room. “He’s welcome to sit with us. It’s no trouble.”
Greta leaned toward Emilie and murmured in a low voice, “He lives here. He and some other families live in this hallway. Full-time, I mean.”
“Oh.” From the tone of Greta’s voice, Emilie wondered if they were part of a social services program that the State or private aid subsidized. It wasn’t her business to ask, though. “Well, Greta, I hope those families are okay with us moving in. There are ten figure skaters staying in these six rooms, and we can be rowdy sometimes.”
Greta brightened. “I’ve heard of you all. You’re the cruise ship skaters. I saw you on the news. You helped all those people get off the ship safely. You’re famous!”
“We just did the job we were trained to do,” Emilie murmured. She cleared her throat. “Where are the other kids now? I assume they’re in school.”
“Yes,” Greta replied. “They’ll be home at three o’clock. The bus drops them off at the front entrance.”
“I’m Emilie, by the way.” Emilie stuck out her hand, giving Greta a wide smile.
Just then, Lynette came trotting down the hallway with Rosie and Julie, their loud voices bouncing off the walls.
“And this...” Emilie explained to Greta, “is Rosie, Julie and Lynette. Katya is... Where is Katya?” she asked them.
“She’s napping,” Julie replied. Julie was still Katya’s roommate.
“Is she feel
ing okay?”
“Bad news from home, I think,” Julie whispered. “She Skyped with her mom earlier.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Emilie murmured.
Lars showed up, flanked by Gary. “Did you know the Wi-Fi here is free? And fast. And unlimited.”
“So everybody’s been on social media and messaging apps while I’ve been gone?” Emilie asked.
“Oh, yeah. Except Julie. She’s been making new friends.” Lars smirked at Julie, but Julie just good-naturedly nudged him in the ribs.
They were all like siblings with one another. Even Sergei, who kept quietly to himself.
“Well,” Emilie said to Greta, “this is most of us. Please don’t feel like you have to clean our rooms every day. Just dropping off clean towels and toiletries is basically all we require.”
“It’s not a problem.” Greta paused. “What was it like to survive the shipwreck?” she asked in a low voice.
“It was...difficult. But we’re all happy it led us here.”
“Prescott Inn is a beautiful place. Well, I’d best get on with things.” She smiled gratefully at Emilie. “Thank you for indulging Jason.”
“We’ll look out for him. Don’t worry!” Emilie waved to Greta and motioned Jason and the cat inside her room. He sat in a chair and quietly petted his cat.
“I can’t wait to see the new costumes,” Julie said as she followed Emilie inside the room. “I wonder if they’ll send us warmer ones than the costumes we used on the ship?”
“Interesting idea.” Emilie could think of a new design to make use of the outdoor arena...
“All right, let’s start our meeting.” Emilie prepared seats for her team as they all piled inside. “Where’s Sergei?”
“He’s comforting Katya.”
That worried Emilie. She would have to keep the meeting short so she could check on Katya as soon as possible. “All right, we’ll leave them be for now. Everybody, please take a seat.” There was plenty of room for the eight of them—plus Jason and Prescott—to spread out across the two double beds, a small couch and a pair of chairs.
It was also nice to be in a room with a window. She now had a huge closet, too—more than enough space for Emilie’s few clothes. And the floor wasn’t rocking beneath them. Emilie wasn’t prone to motion sickness, but it was a nice change to be on land. Just for now, though.
Christmas at Prescott Inn Page 8