Under The Mistletoe (Holiday Hearts #2)

by Kristin Hardy

  “Boy, you really are a workaholic.”

  He grinned. “Just trying to do my best by the hotel.”

  “Hell of a job.”

  “Isn’t it, though? Happy Christmas Eve, by the way.”

  “You, too.”

  “Sure you won’t change your mind and come to the farm for Christmas? I know my mom would love to have you.”

  “No, but thanks, really.” Holidays with her own family were bad enough. With strangers? Too awkward to contemplate. She’d rather watch movies and eat the chocolate chunk Häagen-Dazs she’d picked up on her long-delayed visit to the grocery store.

  “I’ll be thinking of you.”

  That got to her. She made herself ignore the little twinge of longing. “I’m sure you’ll keep busy,” she managed to answer lightly.

  “More like crazed,” he said, but there was affection in his voice. “Listen, I’ve got to get J.J. back to Montpelier. I figured I’d stop by the farm and make an appearance before tomorrow, but I should be back later. Maybe we can have a Christmas Eve toast. Get the holidays off on the right foot.”

  For a second, she didn’t answer and then she smiled. “I’d like that.”

  The executive wing was quiet, making it easy for her to immerse herself in the work that still needed to be done on the acquisition. The discussion to negotiate the final offer was scheduled for Monday, the day after Christmas. She didn’t expect it to be easy. Then again, few things that mattered were.

  Her cell phone rang in the silence, making her jump. She let out a long breath. “Hello?”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Robert Stone’s voice crackled out of Hadley’s cell phone.

  Her stomach knotted up. “I guess you got my e-mail.”

  “What I didn’t get was your list of cost-cutting measures. Acquisitions and market analyses and multimillion dollar outlays.” The words dripped with scorn. “You were supposed to go up there and sort things out. Instead, you send me this ridiculous document.”

  “It’s not a ridiculous document,” she said with a calmness she didn’t feel. “It’s a business proposal.”

  “Did I ask you for a business proposal?”

  She looked at the clock. It was, she calculated, sometime after eight in Gstaad. After eight on Christmas Eve. “Shouldn’t we talk about this another time? I’m sure Mother and the twins would rather you were spending Christmas Eve with them. This can wait until next week, can’t it?”

  “No it can not. I’m putting a stop to this right now.

  You are not to begin discussions on this, you understand?”

  But she already had. Hadley swallowed. “Is there a flaw in the business model?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Is there a flaw in the business model?” she repeated, her voice tight with anxiety. “Is there some reason you don’t feel it makes sense to move forward?”

  There was a short silence. She’d never stood up to her father before, never done anything but comply immediately with his every wish. She’d certainly never had the temerity to question his decisions.

  She wondered what insanity was driving her to do it now.

  “Yes, there’s a reason—I told you to make cuts.”

  “We’re proposing a scenario that positions the hotel for growth. Granted, it involves an outlay—”

  “And I told you I don’t want to see outlays. Certainly not, what is it, six million dollars? What are you thinking?”

  A cold, hard ball formed in her stomach. He hadn’t read the proposal. He couldn’t have done more than skim the first sentence of the executive summary or he’d know that the real cost was far less than six million.

  “If you read on, you’ll see that it’s quite reasonable.”

  “I don’t have to read on. You call these kinds of numbers reasonable?”

  But he’d spent fifty times that much on a recent acquisition that was ten times as speculative. “The capital equipment and land alone are worth nearly that. Untouched, it would pay for itself within five years.”

  “Five years? That’s pathetic. And that ignores the fact that you’re proposing to sink another three million into it. What kind of fantasy world are you living in?”

  Two sentences, she amended. If she were lucky, maybe she could get him to read the whole first paragraph by the end of the call. “If we make those changes, the resort will pay for itself—and the upgrades—in two years. In four, we’ll double our money. And that’s the ski facility alone. That’s not counting what it’ll do for the hotel. You want your profit numbers, give me three good seasons with the upgraded ski area and you’ll have them.”

  “I don’t want to hit our numbers in three years, I want to hit them now. Forget about it.”

  “Please don’t order me to walk away from this.” Her voice was low but the anger had begun to flicker. “I can make this into something.”

  “So far, it doesn’t look like you’re doing anything but wasting money and time. You’ve disappointed me before, but this really takes the cake, Hadley.”

  How could he just sweep it aside without even reading it? Hours—they had put hours into crafting a bulletproof proposal that addressed every conceivable obstacle except one—the possibility that he would never even read it. “How can you tell if you don’t even bother to look at my work?” she demanded.

  She could practically hear his shock vibrate over the phone lines. “I refuse to waste any more time on this,” Robert snapped, recovering. “You are not going through with this acquisition and that is final. I want that list of cost-cutting measures in my in-box by Tuesday, understand?”

  “No.” Hadley felt strangely calm.

  “Now you listen to me,” Robert thundered.

  “No,” she repeated, more forcefully. “Not until you start listening to me. Good night, Father.”

  And hands shaking, she terminated the call.

  In movies and books, people had fights and felt suddenly powerful, transformed. Hadley just felt jittery and faintly sick. Putting down the phone, she pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. What in God’s name was she thinking, talking to her father like that? There was no telling what he would do. He’d crush her—and the hotel and Gabe and everyone in his path.

  She rose and began to pace. She couldn’t go forward with the acquisition now. If the board found out she was countermanding a direct order, she’d be out, Stone or no. And when Robert found out… She shuddered. She was out of her mind to even think about it. What she needed to do was start making his cuts, working to minimize as much as she could the damage she had just caused.

  The thing was, she knew they were right about the ski area.

  The phone shrilled on the desk. At the sight of the country code, her stomach roiled. She wasn’t ready to talk to him, not yet. Not until she’d had a chance to think. The ring repeated, as peremptory as the man on the other end of the line. And with each succeeding ring, her anger grew. When it sounded a fourth time, she snatched it up, ready for battle.

  “Yes?”

  “What have you done?” The furious words hit her with the force of a slap—but not from the person she had expected.

  “Mother?”

  “What did you say to your father? He’s furious.”

  The voice might have been different, but the tone could have been borrowed directly from Robert. “We…had a difference of opinion about business,” Hadley said, her own voice barely audible.

  “What on earth would possess you to start a fight on Christmas Eve?”

  Are you sure you want to know, Mother? “I didn’t start a fight. We were talking about my assignment.” Hadley took a breath. “Robert and I disagreed on what to do about this hotel.”

  “Well, I’m sure you could have done it in a better way.” Irene’s voice was grim. “I would think you’d have more consideration than to run around making waves, today of all days. I want you to apologize to him right now.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

&nb
sp; Hadley swallowed. “No.” For the second time that night, one of the shortest words in the language was the hardest to say.

  “How can you do that? You get him in a rage and then sit over there an ocean away and leave us to deal with the fallout? You don’t care about us. You’ve ruined everything.”

  But it was ruined long ago.

  “I’m sorry,” Hadley said mechanically.

  “How can you be? You don’t care. It’s always been you and your father off in your own world. It’s always what you want.”

  “But it’s not.” Her voice shook. “That’s just the problem. It’s always been what he wants, what he expects. I didn’t start a fight. I just told him no.”

  “And you picked a perfect time,” Irene said bitterly.

  “What?” It was like being cut with a very sharp knife, so quickly that Hadley barely registered the touch, yet looked down to find herself bleeding.

  “Christmas Eve, our big trip,” Irene continued. “We had plans to go to the candlelight processional and the midnight banquet. Now your father’s in an uproar and the twins are upset and you’re refusing to apologize and everything’s ruined.” Her voice wavered, and Hadley realized suddenly that her mother really was shattered. In Irene’s world of carefully orchestrated effects, this was crisis.

  It made Hadley suddenly very sad and very tired.

  The line was silent for long moments. “It’s Christmas Eve,” her mother finally said in a small voice. “It’s supposed to be a happy time.”

  “Yes.” Hadley closed her eyes. “It is.”

  Darkness pressed against the windows. The luminous wash of the full moon from two weeks before had retreated utterly. Daylight was a memory, bled away into the dark of the moon.

  As bleak and black as Hadley’s mood.

  The lobby of the Hotel Mount Jefferson stretched out ahead of her, room to pace without the limitations of Cortland House. No one was around. The guests were in their rooms at this hour, the night clerk snoozing in the back with Hadley’s blessing.

  Only the Christmas tree continued to sparkle with life, its lights blinking gaily for nonexistent revelers.

  And she was alone, achingly alone, in a world that had suddenly broken loose from its moorings. Hadley sank into one of the love seats in front of the dying fire.

  The things that had always been important to her suddenly didn’t matter, and the ones that mattered had come up on her by surprise—Whit, the grandfather she’d never met. Angie, Lester, even Tina—people at the hotel who’d somehow over the course of weeks come to feel more like family than her own. The hotel itself, quickly becoming the center of a life that seemed to be reshaping itself without her consent. And Gabe, the man who’d wormed his way impossibly deep into her heart.

  And if she followed her heart, she’d be at risk, cut off from everything that had mattered to her before, with no hope of going back. On this night, in so many places, families were coming together. On this night, hers had come apart. She remembered her father’s scathing words and closed her eyes. And she heard Irene’s woebegone voice. It’s supposed to be a happy time. She dropped her head onto her hands.

  “Merry Christmas,” Gabe said softly from beside her.

  Christmas at the farm was always a production that grew to fit. When he’d driven J.J. home, Gabe had intended just to stop by and say a quick hello before coming back to the hotel. He’d be there for Christmas Day. Christmas Eve, he needed to be other places. His relatives, though, had thought differently and drawn him into dinner and toasting, gifts and endless stories.

  And all the while he’d burned to be with Hadley.

  The hotel walk-through was salve to his conscience for missing most of the day. He’d planned to take a quick look around and head back to Cortland House. Perhaps Hadley would still be up and they could usher in Christmas with a brandy.

  He’d never expected to find her in front of the fire, looking lost and alone and far too fragile.

  Now she straightened, squaring her shoulders in a movement that looked somehow valiant. “Hi.”

  “Hey. I’m back, finally. Sorry it took so long.”

  “You’re allowed. It’s Christmas Eve.” She gave a reflexive smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Did you have fun?”

  “It was fine. Are you?”

  Her nod was too quick. “Yes, of course. Just tired. I came over to do a walk-through before bed.”

  He wasn’t going to let the walls go up again, not tonight. Tonight she was going to open up to him. “It looks like more than just tired to me.” Gabe sat on the love seat beside her. “What’s really going on?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He touched her hair. “Tell me.”

  Hadley sighed, not moving away. “It’s nothing. Just a fight with my folks. My father, mostly.”

  “No family gets along all the time. Holidays can be intense.

  Maybe they felt guilty that they’re not with you.” Her laugh ended in a choke. “I don’t think so.”

  Neither of them noticed when he reached over to rub the tension out of her shoulders. “What was it about?”

  “My father got the proposal about the acquisition.”

  “I take it he was less than overwhelmed.”

  “He was furious.” She bit her lip. “I’ve never heard him like that before. I don’t think he even read it. All he wants to do is cut.”

  “No acquisition?”

  “He’s forbidden it.”

  “What does that mean for us?”

  “If I play by the rules, it’s not good. People lose their jobs, the hotel goes downhill. There’s one possibility, but it means going against him completely.” She swallowed. “I can cover the cost of the deal until I can find some way to get it in front of the board. They’d approve it if it’s treated like any other business deal. It makes perfect sense financially and there are enough of them who believe in responsibility to the shareholders to at least argue with my father if—when—he tries to kill it. The trick is to use one of them to introduce it. After that…” She shook her head.

  “Where would you get the money to buy a ski area?”

  “I have some of my own. Trust funds.”

  A different world. “Your dad won’t be happy.”

  “He’s not happy now.” And Gabe could see her begin to turn inward. “No one’s happy now.”

  “Maybe you just need to give him time.”

  “Are you kidding? My father’s job has always been to set the bar, and my job has always been to meet it.” She began twisting her fingers together. “Or not. I’d jump, he’d move it. I’d jump higher, he’d move it again.” For a long moment she was silent and still. “I used to think I’d get it right one of these days,” she said finally. “I used to think I could please him. I realized today that that’s probably never going to happen.”

  “I’m sure he’s proud of you. Maybe he just can’t say it.”

  She shook her head. “He’s always wanted a dynasty and that means a son. When my mother first got pregnant with the twins, he was thrilled. Then we got the news they were girls. So I guess he had to make do with me.”

  If she’d aroused his sympathies the first time he’d seen her, now she tore his heart.

  “I always thought if I could just be good enough, if I just worked hard enough, everything would be all right. I know—” she gave a humorless laugh “—it sounds ridiculous. But when you’ve grown up with something from the time you could think, ridiculous doesn’t matter. It just is. And now all of a sudden I’ve figured out that that’s not going to work. I don’t fit, Gabe. I don’t fit with my father, and I certainly don’t fit with my mother and the twins.” She looked at him bleakly. “I don’t fit anywhere. I’m thinking about burning the bridge to the only life I’ve known and I’ve got nowhere to go after I do it.” Unconsciously, her hands tightened into fists.

  “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” played faintly in the background, dreamy and slow. The
Christmas tree glittered in a parody of holiday cheer. And Hadley’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

  One by one, Gabe took her hands in his own, pressing the knuckles to his lips until they relaxed, unfolding her fingers and rubbing away the deep grooves left by her nails. “I know someplace you fit.” He rose and held out a hand to her. “Dance with me,” he said softly. “It’s Christmas Eve.” And he pulled her into his arms.

  Connection. It was in their linked hands, in the warmth of his fingers pressed against her back, his eyes locked on hers, his gaze embracing her as surely as his arms. Once before, ages ago it seemed, they’d danced as strangers. In the days since, they’d learned each other’s bodies with hardly a touch. They moved together now in the half-light of fire and Christmas tree, a slow, dreamy dip and float, the steps originating in his body and ending in hers. She looked into his face, looked into hope and promise and comfort. And bit by bit, the bleakness eased.

  In the circle of the dance she felt protected, cherished. The warmth of his body reached her like a touch. They rose and fell together in rhythm, turning as one, coming ever closer, moving around in front of the dying fire until at last he brought them to a stop, sliding his arms around her entirely. Lips a fraction of an inch apart, they stood, close enough to breathe one another’s air.

  And as Christmas Eve slid into Christmas Day, they kissed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Soft, gentle, the kiss sent warmth whisking through Hadley, reminding her that there was pleasure, too, in this world, and comfort and caring. It was just a simple pressure of mouth on mouth, but when Gabe shifted slightly and gathered her against him, it resonated through her. They stood still and yet it was as though they still floated together in the dance.

  She’d touched him before, but somehow it was different now. The taste of him permeated her senses, working its way into her blood like some exotic liquor. And somewhere deep inside her, the slow drumbeat of desire began.