by Tina Michele
Since the accident at the studio, it was clear that Jim was caught in the middle of a situation that none of them had expected. Who would have known that his beloved niece and his best friend would border on being mortal enemies before they’d even been introduced? Carson didn’t hate Bree. Carson found that Bree was on her mind more often than not since their encounter in the Damask Room. The thoughts had multiplied tenfold since the day on the sidewalk. Her opinion of Bree had changed more than a handful of times since the first moment their eyes met, and even still, Carson wasn’t sure what her opinion was. All she knew was that she had never met someone who made her feel equal amounts of frustration, fury, and fervor simultaneously.
Carson stood near the mouth of the wisteria-draped arbors that ran along the wall of the upper Terrace Garden. As usual, she waited for Jim next to a fountain she called the Triton fish. It was one of Carson’s favorite spots in the gardens. She had spent many hours seated on the bench between two of the marble busts that lined the corridor. She tried to think of her favorite time of day to visit. Carson found it next to impossible to choose between early fog-filled mornings or late sun-drenched afternoons. She spotted Jim as he approached and concluded she didn’t have to choose. She would be content to enjoy it any way she could.
As had become their new custom in the previous weeks, Carson and Jim ambled along in silence toward the café. Yet on this day, Carson broke the silence. “Hey, do you mind if we go this way?” Carson asked as she pointed in the direction of the hearty shrub garden. Carson hoped that extra time spent wandering the long path would spark a much-needed conversation before they reached the café.
They walked for close to ten minutes in the quiet until Carson spoke again. “Okay, we need to talk about what’s going on. It’s seriously starting to irritate the shit out of me.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. “Are you not allowed to talk to me? This all feels very my mommy told me I couldn’t be friends with you anymore, and it’s getting a little frustrating.”
Jim let out a chuckle, and the tension eased somewhat. “No. My mommy didn’t say anything of the sort. And neither did Bree if that was going to be your next question. She’s my daughter, not my mother.”
“I mean, I know she’s your daughter, at least more than I would ever be, but I still consider you very much like my father and one of my very best friends. In ten years, there hasn’t been anything we couldn’t talk about, even if you are old as dirt.” Carson’s laugh was uneasy. She hoped he would join in like always. After what seemed like hours, Jim laughed at her joke. For the first time in weeks, she was hopeful that things would return to normal.
“I had you there for a sec, huh?”
Carson realized his exaggerated delay of laughter was his own cruel joke. “You asshole!” she said as she punched him in the arm.
“Ow. Damn.” He rubbed the frog from his bicep and then put his arm around Carson’s shoulders. “No worries, kiddo.”
“So we’re cool? Us?” Carson leaned in to his hug.
“Of course.”
Where the shrub garden ended, the famous azalea garden began. The azaleas covered roughly fifteen acres of land with over a hundred varieties of native and non-native plants. When they were in full bloom, the sight was overwhelming. “So, how is she?” Carson didn’t know if they would ever be friends, but she wanted Jim to know that she would get along with Bree, for him. Carson didn’t know how she would convince Bree that she wasn’t a self-centered jerk or how Bree would convince her that she wasn’t a feisty, defensive brat.
Of course that was if Carson’s initial opinion of Bree proved incorrect—which Carson had no real doubt it would be. Something inside Carson told her that things would change between them; she just didn’t know when or how. Either way, she was excited to think there would be another encounter.
“She’s good.” Jim’s hesitation to answer the question was evident.
“Good to hear. Did everything with her head get taken care of?” As soon as Carson said it she realized how it might have sounded, and she laughed. She was relieved when Jim laughed, too.
“Yes. A few stitches that she got out yesterday, and the doctor said everything looked normal. I asked her to get a second opinion,” he said, and they both struggled to keep a straight face. “No, really. She’s fine. She started training with Barbara on Monday.”
Carson was confused. “Barbara who?”
“Barbara Williams with guest relations. Barbara is short-staffed with the new tour options, and she thought Bree would be perfect for now.” Jim and Carson entered the walled garden area and she heard Jim’s stomach growl.
“Wait.” Carson stopped and made Jim do the same as she grabbed his arm. “Jim, she has her master’s degree in art conservation. Why the hell would she give that up to play tour guide?” Carson was a mix of emotions. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m not kidding. She’s an excellent tour guide. She knows this place inside and out, and she enjoys it,” Jim said matter-of-factly.
“I understand that. But what about my positions? I’m going to be hiring soon, remember? I mean, I know we haven’t gotten off on good terms, but we’re both professionals. Did she not think that I could overcome our differences and be a professional? Is that it?” There it was. Carson should have guessed. Bree was blaming her for ruining her career and implying that she wouldn’t hire her based on some nonexistent personal vendetta.
“Carson, wait. That has nothing to do with it,” he said.
“Really? She told you that?” Carson crossed her arms and waited for his answer.
“No…not exactly.” She attempted to interrupt. “Wait. Will you let me finish before you continue your tantrum?” Carson huffed but remained quiet. “Barbara needed help. You aren’t ready for that project to start yet and therefore aren’t hiring right this moment. Bree is bored. She moved here to work at Biltmore and start her life over. Sitting in the house alone is not going to get her through things. It might not be just as she had planned it, but she has to do something.” Jim turned and continued toward the café and left Carson to reflect on his words.
Carson felt like she had been picked up off the floor mid-flail and set upright with a smack on the bottom. He was right, and she was an asshole. She followed him into the café.
*
A few days earlier as Jim performed his various inspections, he had been approached by Barbara. Jim had known Barbara Williams for several years and they always had an easy rapport and spoke often. So it wasn’t a complete surprise that she seemed to go out of her way to talk to him when they were in the same area. However, this time Barbara didn’t make her usual small talk about the staffing changes or ask innocuous personal questions. She approached and handed him a completed job application. Before he could ask her why she’d handed it to him, he noticed the name at the top, Bree L. Whitley.
Barbara explained that she had received the application the day before and that she was almost as surprised as he was. She knew Bree very well, as did just about everyone who worked in the house. Barbara also knew Bree had gone to school to be a conservationist and her life’s goal was to return and one day become chief conservator at the Biltmore. So Jim understood the look of confusion in Barbara’s eyes as she stood and waited for Jim to confirm Bree’s identity. It appeared that Bree had applied for a tour guide position in secret, from him anyway. He acknowledged that Bree was the applicant. Bree was an adult and if she wanted to be a tour guide, he would stand behind her in that decision. He stated that she would be perfect for the position if Barbara wished to hire her.
Jim knew why Bree had applied for the job instead of waiting for a call from the preservation department, and the reason upset him. He wanted nothing more than for his girls to get along. But it seemed that neither his nor Bree’s plans were going to come to them without difficulty. When Jim got home that day he detoured by Bree’s place first. He vowed to support her. He just wanted to have a rational explanation fir
st. Bree was both goal-oriented and methodical, and while most of her decisions made sense to him, he needed a more detailed justification to understand the impulsiveness of this one. Plus, Bree would always be his little girl, so if she decided to begin making rash choices he preferred that she at least discuss them with him. Either way, regardless of what he said, she would do as she wished.
He pressed the doorbell and waited for Bree to answer. He heard her shout from inside, “Come in. I’m in the office.” Jim went in and then down the hall to the office. Bree’s office consisted of a drafting table, a large computer desk, and what seemed like thousands of books.
Jim sat on the couch across from Bree, but he didn’t sit back. Instead he leaned forward and rested his chin in his hand. Bree looked up from her computer screen and laughed. “Uh-oh.” He knew that she knew his mannerisms well enough to read his mind most of the time, so it didn’t take long before she talked.
“Yes, I applied for the guest services position. No, I didn’t tell you, and no, I don’t know why. I figured it would take longer than twenty-four hours for you to find out, though.” She offered all the answers without any of the questions. Jim couldn’t help but smile.
“Okay then. I guess I just figured you would have at least mentioned it to me. I wouldn’t have tried to change your mind.” Jim was interrupted by a scoff from Bree. “Okay, I would have offered my opinion that you wouldn’t have listened to anyway. But can you tell me why the hasty decision to be a guide instead of waiting for the other position?” He braced himself for the answer.
“There are several reasons, I guess. And it’s not such a hasty decision. You and I both know I don’t need to work. I love what I do, and ever since I could remember I’ve wanted to be a conservator at the Biltmore, but I know how hard it is to get in there. Even with your connections. I never once hesitated when I made the final decision that it was time to come home. I had hoped that a position would open up quickly and much of my plan rested on the possibility, but even a control freak like me knows things don’t always go as smoothly as you might want them to.”
As always, Jim was mesmerized by her controlled spontaneity; even though her plan seemed rash, it was still a reasonable option. “So, this has nothing to do with Carson?” He knew it did; he just didn’t know if she would admit it.
“Honestly, yes, in a way,” Bree said. “While I find myself easy to get along with and very much a people person, Carson Harper is proving to be quite a challenge for me. I mean, she’s so…difficult? Egotistical? Abrasive maybe? We’ve met twice, that’s it, and both times ended with me wanting to punch her right in the nose.” Jim looked at her in shock. Bree wasn’t the violent type, and he didn’t think she had ever talked about physically assaulting another person before. “I know, right? She’s infuriating. And I just don’t think a working relationship would be possible. Right now anyway.”
Bree wasn’t finished so Jim leaned back into the couch and waited for her to continue. It was apparent she had contemplated her feelings and the situation for a while. He believed it was best if she continued and got it all off her chest.
“I know what she means to you. I’m so sorry I’m interfering with your friendship.”
Jim stopped her and went to her side. “Bree, my love. You’re my precious girl. You always come first with me. I love Carson like a daughter, but you’re my family, okay?”
“I know. But I saw the disappointment on your face that day at the studio and—”
“No. Just stop. I understand why you’ve made these decisions, and I admire all of your reasons. I think you’ll make a fantastic guide for a day, a week, or a year. I know Barbara is beside herself with joy at the idea of having you working for her.” Jim smiled to ease the tension that had built.
“I’m excited about it. All the fun and none of the stress.”
“Well, that’s if you even get the job. I haven’t given the okay yet. It is I with the power to determine your future. Bwah ha ha.” Jim gave his best and worst evil laugh.
Bree put her hands under her chin, widened her innocent eyes, and gazed up at him. “Please, Uncle Jiiiim?” she cooed.
“Dammit! My kryptonite. Fine, you win…this time.”
“Either I’ve finally perfected that or you’re getting weak as you get older.” Bree squealed and jerked her shoulders up to her ears as he squeezed the back of her neck. Bree hated to be tickled, but Jim couldn’t resist it. He enjoyed how funny it was when Bree begged him to stop while she tucked her head into her body like a turtle.
Chapter Ten
Jim saw Bree near the base of the staircase and watched as she paced back and forth in the small alcove beneath the chandelier. She was in deep concentration but her nervousness was clear. She no doubt reviewed the hundreds of facts and figures that every good guide at Biltmore would know. Jim knew Bree could have fired off any number of those facts with ease, in addition to the handfuls of other lesser known details she’d learned over the years. She was a wealth of data and information, especially when it came to her second home. He continued to watch her mumble and pace from a safe distance on the other side of the Winter Garden. He wasn’t about to disturb her as she prepared for her final test.
Bree had trained no more than a week, so they were both surprised when Barbara requested that Bree participate in the next mock tour testing. It was common for new guides to study and train for weeks before they were given the opportunity to take the final exam. While Jim knew that Bree was heads above the newbs, Barbara had never been one to circumvent the rules or traditions of the house, even for family. Barbara always had a fondness for Bree while she grew up in the shadows of the house. Jim had assumed that she, like many of the other women, had fostered Bree as one of their own in the wake of her mother’s tragic death.
Jim and Bree had a very open and honest relationship, but there were some things he couldn’t teach her by experience. On more than one occasion, he’d even asked Barbara about how to address certain feminine topics. While Jim had always tried his best to provide Bree with what she needed to know, he never turned away trusted advice from Barbara. It had been many years, and Jim wondered if Barbara remembered the time she had commandeered the discussion about puberty.
Jim had thought he prepared rather well, considering all his knowledge was gleaned from library books and medical pamphlets. One day, he brought them all to her office along with a carefully prepared lecture. Jim wanted to make sure he had all his facts right in a complete and helpful manner. As soon as he set out his documentation, complete with body diagrams and instruction sheets, Barbara burst into tears and laughter. She all but begged him to allow her to talk to Bree about it. While he was more than capable of having the talk with his niece, he was far from disappointed when Barbara requested permission to do it instead. It still made him laugh to remember both his elaborate setup and her amused response to it.
Bree still pointed at invisible sights and waved her note cards in sweeping gestures through the air. He smiled at the thought of how seriously she took everything she did.
“She could’ve been an actress,” he heard a woman say from behind him. He turned around. Barbara stood a few feet away and watched Bree conduct her tour to her imaginary guests.
“Yes, she always has been quite dramatic,” he said. They both laughed at the truth in the statement.
“I don’t know what she’s so nervous about. She knows this entire estate better than you and I both.” Barbara’s statement wasn’t exaggerated. After all, Bree had been mentored and tutored by almost every department head and employee in the house since she was eight years old.
“No kidding. It wouldn’t surprise me if she became director of museum services one day. Although, at this rate, I don’t think she even cares, just as long as she’s here.” They both watched her as she spun in a dramatic motion and all but slammed into an unsuspecting sightseer. Jim cringed. “Oh geesh. Is coordination on that test of yours?”
“No, it isn’t. Which,
by the looks of it, is a good thing.” Barbara said.
They exchanged a glance that held for a brief moment longer than Jim had expected. He was thankful when he heard a familiar voice break the unexpected connection.
“Jeeems! Where’ve you beeeen?” Carson shouted in a long, drawn-out, and exaggerated Southern accent.
“What are you yelling for, you nut?” Jim asked Carson.
“I’ve been looking all over for you. Hi, Barbara.”
“Hey, Carson.”
“I’ve been right here, talking to Barbara and watching Br—people.” Jim tried to avoid the mention of Bree in front of Carson and vice versa. It helped ease the tension. The problem was that Carson wasn’t as dumb as he wished she was sometimes, and she spotted Bree across the room.
“People? Or person?” Carson asked as she stared at Bree while she paced. “What is she doing exactly?” Carson said as she moved past them but hugged close against the wall like a chameleon.
Jim was sure he wasn’t the only one who had noticed the look in Carson’s eyes when she spotted Bree. He cast a curious look at Barbara, who raised an eyebrow at him. Confirmed, it wasn’t just him. He smiled, and something inside him melted just a little bit. They both looked back at Carson, who still hugged the wall in silence. “Riiiight,” Barbara said louder than necessary in a vain attempt to bring Carson back down to earth. “So, the mock tour test starts in thirty minutes. Do you want to help out and be a Biltmore guest for a while?” Barbara looked at Jim but spoke loud enough for Carson to hear. “I don’t think Bree would mind.”
Carson’s head nearly spun off her shoulders. Barbara smiled and Jim covered his mouth as he tried to muffle his laughter. Carson didn’t seem to notice. “A tour? I’ll help. I can spare a couple of hours,” Carson said as she looked at Jim for his agreement.