Under The Mistletoe (Holiday Hearts #2)

by Kristin Hardy

  “What?”

  “I said I quit.”

  “Quit?” Robert stared at her incredulously.

  “My entire life you’ve told me what to do. You’ve ordered every part of my existence, taken away my choices, and I’ve let you do it. Not anymore. It stops now. I am not going to cut this hotel to pieces and ruin people’s lives because you didn’t like your father. I’m going to get a job somewhere they give you the authority as well as the responsibilit, somewhere they don’t micromanage me and reject my work because they can’t be bothered to read a five-page proposal. Someplace where I stand a chance.”

  “You do that and you are out of this family,” he roared.

  “I want to be out of this family.” Hadley flung the words at him. “I’m sick of it, do you understand me? I’m sick of not fitting in, I’m sick of constantly being in doubt, I’m sick of having to look over my shoulder all the time because no matter what I do you’ll be disappointed. Well, you know what, Robert? I’m the one who’s disappointed.”

  And she walked out.

  Chapter Eighteen

  He didn’t want to be stuck in a car driving, he wanted to be skiing or running or beating the hell out of himself doing tae kwon do—anything to get rid of the anger and frustration that surged through him. But it was also dark and about twenty degrees out, and he needed a place to go. So Gabe drove in darkness through Vermont, his mind chasing the anger because it was easier to focus on that than on the yawning emptiness beneath it. He didn’t want to go there, couldn’t right now.

  It wasn’t possible, he thought over and over. How could he have been so stupifyingly wrong about Hadley? One minute he was telling Robert Stone he couldn’t run his daughter’s life anymore, the next Gabe was watching Hadley accept her father’s list of demands. How could it have happened? How could she be one person one minute and then roll over into someone else the next? And what did it say for him that he’d fallen in love with her?

  Whoever “she” was?

  He almost didn’t care that he’d been fired, because what really kicked his gut in was knowing he’d lost her. Knowing he’d probably never had her to begin with.

  And the emptiness echoed, as dark as the night outside. Gabe shook his head to ward it off. He was lucky that he had places to go, friends and family nearby. A day, he thought, a day to get his feet under him. After that, he’d get out his résumé, make a few calls, deal with what came next. There were other historic properties in the country; maybe one had an opening. Maybe he could go to the Caribbean and run a resort. Or go to a city and try his hand at a big conference hotel, Boston, maybe, or Chicago or D.C. Not Manhattan, though. Not anyplace he was likely to run into Hadley Stone.

  His mind veered away then. It just hurt too damn much to think about. Not now, maybe not ever.

  At the moment, he needed a place he could go and just be. He had options, of course, he thought as he neared Eastmont. He could go to J.J.’s condo and ski all day. Or go to his mom’s—there was always room at the Trask farmhouse. In either case, people who cared about him would be there to offer him support. It was just a matter of choosing which turn to make.

  And when he walked up to the door and knocked, he knew he was at the one place he could get the kind of unquestioning sanctuary he needed.

  The door opened to reveal Jacob.

  “Hey,” Gabe said.

  “Hey.” Jacob looked down at the grip in Gabe’s hand, then back up at his brother’s face, and nodded slowly. “Looks like you could use a drink.”

  And Gabe relaxed for the first time since he’d walked away from Hadley. “I got fired. Can I stay with you a couple of days?”

  Most people would have reacted with surprise, well-meant sympathy, regret, questions. Questions he had no desire or energy to answer just then. Perhaps it all flickered through Jacob’s eyes, but the dominant expression was something else entirely—unquestioning acceptance.

  And Jacob just nodded and stepped back from the door.

  Hadley opened the trunk of the rental car and put her luggage inside. The wind off the mountain bit into her but she didn’t notice. Compared to what she’d been through, it hardly mattered.

  After the fight she’d fled to Cortland House, knowing it wasn’t even remotely a sanctuary, not with memories of Gabe permeating every inch of it. She’d packed in a matter of minutes, recklessly flinging clothing and toiletries in her bag, leaving the little that she’d accumulated in the preceding weeks.

  It wasn’t her home, it had only been a place to stay. She wouldn’t let herself remember, couldn’t let herself recall just the night before when she and Gabe had come back from the Trask farm to sit in her living room, toasting to Christmas night and the future. They’d started making love on the couch and her carpet and had worked their way into her bed.

  And now his presence was everywhere in the flat. Staying even a moment more was impossible—all it did was taunt her with loss. How could she have thought just that morning that she was in love with him? How could she have been so blind, so unable to realize that he was exactly the same as everyone else? In the end, it had come down to conditions. Always conditions.

  For a very short time she’d let herself think that maybe people could love one another no matter what, but that was foolish. It always came down to what people wanted from you and what you could do. She knew that. She’d only let herself forget for a little while.

  She’d only let herself hope.

  Her face heated. Grimly she slammed the trunk and breathed in the cold air. She would not cry. She would not. Because if she let herself start, she had a feeling she’d never stop.

  What she needed to do was get on a plane and go somewhere far, far away. Somewhere distant. Somewhere foreign. Somewhere that didn’t remind her of Gabe at every turn.

  If there was anyplace that far away.

  Shaking her head, she got into the car and started it up. The minute things get tough you bail.

  For a moment it stopped her, but then she let out the parking brake. Ridiculous. There was no reason to let it get to her. It had just been something for him to say, something designed to hurt. He was wrong, she thought as she backed up. There were plenty of times she’d stuck with things, stuck with them and done so successfully.

  But had they ever really been things that demanded a price more than hard work? Had they ever been things that cost her?

  She headed down the drive, coming around the stand of trees to see the brilliantly lit dining room. They would be serving dinner now, carrying silver-topped trays while the jazz combo played in the background.

  And everybody working at the hotel would know that the runaway train was coming at them, that no one and nothing was safe from Robert. She pulled the car to a stop.

  Escape. The need for it twisted at her. She had only to get away from the hotel and that sense of something tearing inside at every reminder of Gabe would ease. But to do that she’d have to leave them all behind, leave them all to their fate.

  And she couldn’t do that.

  This time when her eyes stung, she didn’t fight it, couldn’t. And when the tears came, she abandoned herself to them, lowering her head to the steering wheel to weep, just weep.

  The dawn spilled through the windows. It didn’t wake her; she’d never really slept. The fitful half doze she’d managed had only left her more exhausted than ever. She took time over her makeup, trying to cover the smudged, swollen look of her eyes. Finally, she sighed and abandoned the effort. She would be there; they’d have to settle for that.

  Walking into Gabe’s empty office was, at first, impossible. She was glad it was 6:00 a.m. and no one was around as she stood staring. They’d filled cheerful red balloons together, laughing. They’d leaned over the conference table and fought through the proposal until late into the night, drinking cup after cup of his exotic coffee. He’d given her the key she now held in her hand, on a Christmas that was more magical than any she could remember. It didn’t seem possible t
hat it was over, done.

  She wanted to lay her head on the desk and wail. Instead, she hung up her coat, turned on her computer and went to work.

  Time drifted by. The noise increased only slightly as staff came in, as though they were subdued by the events of the previous day. Hadley had no illusions of privacy; she was sure that the details of each conversation with Robert had long since ricocheted around the hotel. People murmured in the hall, in Susan’s office, but no one dared to bother her. Perhaps, like refugees, they wanted to stay low until the battle was well and truly over. Everyone, she was sure, wanted to know what came next, but none of them seemed ready to ask.

  That was all right. She wasn’t sure she had an answer.

  She’d begun to prepare for the weekly staff meeting when there was a tap at the door. And she looked up to see Robert.

  “You’re still here,” he said abruptly.

  She just looked at him.

  “Can I talk with you?”

  For a moment, she didn’t answer. The bright-burning anger of the day before had consumed itself, leaving only the taste of ashes and an emotionless resolve. If they could determine the terms of the handover, if she could ensure that the staff of the hotel was well treated in the event of layoffs, perhaps then she could finally make her escape. Perhaps then she could live away from the shadows of what might have been. “All right.”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “Someplace more private.”

  “The veranda?” she asked.

  The walk through the lobby was another minefield of memories: Gabe telling her the story of Cortland and Clara, sipping chocolate beside her in the conservatory. Waltzing in front of the fireplace on a Christmas Eve that seemed a part of some distant, golden-hazed past.

  Clenching her hands into fists, she focused on the sharp bite of her nails into her palms. She’d given into despair the night before. She wouldn’t do it now, no matter what.

  As they reached the ballroom vestibule, Robert stopped and turned to the wall. “I came down here and looked at that damn picture last night.” He walked slowly over to it. In the photo, his younger self tottered against his father’s legs. “I tried and tried to remember being here. I can’t.” He stared at the photograph, at the family frozen in time, and shook his head. “I don’t remember it,” he said flatly.

  “Then let’s go outside and you can say what you came here to say.” Hadley’s voice was calm. Her hands shook only a little as she pressed open the door and walked out to the curved end of the veranda. She and Gabe had stood here, she remembered.

  In another life.

  Robert leaned on the railing and looked out at the valley. “Beautiful country up here.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Your mother and sisters are off skiing. They wanted to stay in Gstaad. I brought them here.”

  “The twins didn’t seem very happy.”

  “I give in too much. It’s always been easy to let your mother spoil them. She never did that with you.”

  “She never had a chance to.”

  “You’re better off for it.” His reply was abrupt.

  “Am I?”

  “You’ve got an education, experience. I gave you the best.”

  “You never asked me if it was what I wanted.” She couldn’t feel heat over it, merely a need for him to finally understand.

  “You don’t ask a child how to raise it.”

  “And when does a child start being an adult?” she replied.

  He frowned at her. “When does a man stop being a father?” He looked back toward the mountains. “You said some pretty strong things yesterday.”

  “I meant them.” She wasn’t going to take a step backward. There was no point. She’d already lost all she could lose.

  “The lay of the land looks different depending on where you’re standing. I’m not going to apologize. I’ve always done my best by you. I was involved, which is more than I can say for my father.” He met her eyes. “What’s done is done.”

  “Then maybe we should go inside and discuss the handover.” Her voice was cool.

  “You didn’t let me finish. You didn’t know my father—”

  “You never let me.”

  “You didn’t need to.”

  “Maybe I did.” Even she could hear the edge in her voice. “Maybe it was my choice, not yours.”

  “I saw him shut people out. I didn’t want to give him the chance to do it again, to any of us.”

  “So you did it for him. And you turned around and did it to me.”

  He stared at her. “I never shut you out.”

  “What do you call what you did every time I didn’t come through exactly as planned?” Anger flared once more, sudden and hot. “Life according to Robert Stone, no options allowed. Did you think I didn’t feel it? Did you think because you didn’t yell it was any easier? All these years and you’ve never once told me you were proud of me or that I did a good job. Never once.”

  “That’s not true,” he said hotly. “I’ve told you lots of times.”

  “Like when? At my graduation, when you said I could have come of top of my class instead of just summa cum laude if I’d only tried harder? Or when I brought in the StormCo project underbudget and you broke it apart without even telling me? Or when I turned Becheron around?” she finished bitterly.

  “I’m not going to sit here and defend my every action,” he snapped. “What I did for you I did because I wanted you to be the best you could be.”

  “Except that the best I could be would be your son.”

  The feelings that she’d felt so long shivered between them. “Is that really what you think?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes stung. “I never could measure up for you. And I meant what I said yesterday. I’m through trying.”

  He looked at her and something about him looked grainy and old. “I can’t change who I am, Hadley. I can’t go back and alter the past. I can tell that I’m as proud of you as I could be of any child, son or daughter.” He hesitated. “I don’t want to lose you.” He stared over at Mount Jefferson, where the smoke from the railway engine puffed up into the air. Suddenly, he stiffened.

  “My God,” he breathed.

  “What is it?”

  “I remember,” he said slowly. “I remember that smoke and I remember…I remember standing here.” He looked around. “Nothing else, but I remember that.” He fell silent. “What I wanted to tell you was that I’ll abide by your judgment in regard to the hotel. If you want to follow your plan, I won’t object.”

  “Do you mean it?” Could she trust him?

  “Within reason. You’ve got five years to hit target. In the interim you’re free to do what you want. Just keep me in the loop.” He gave her a sardonic smile. “I’ll give it to you in writing, if you want.”

  He was serious, she realized. “No cuts?”

  He moved as if to say something and then shook his head. “You do what you think is best. You want to buy the ski area, it’s your call.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Oh, dear God,” she breathed.

  “What?”

  “The resort. The closing is at four.”

  “Today?”

  She gave a brief smile. “I went ahead with it.”

  “Despite the fact that I forbade you.”

  “You always said think outside the box.”

  “I meant outside everyone else’s box, not mine.”

  “I applied the concept more liberally. We’ve got to review changes and confirm the arrangements for the bank transfer. I didn’t get a chance to yesterday, with everything that happened. Come on.” She spun and headed toward the doors, her father hurrying alongside.

  “I still don’t understand how you diverted Stone Enterprises funds without letting us know.”

  “I didn’t. I used my trust fund. It was going to happen whether you liked it or not.”

  Robert looked at her as if she was a stranger. “I don’t think I had any idea what I have in you.”

&nbs
p; “You ain’t seen nothing yet. Our CFO was supposed to e-mail me the papers by nine. It takes an hour and a half to get to Montpelier. That gives us—” she looked at her watch “—four hours to get everything done.”

  “You’d better get to work.”

  She gave him a diamond-hard, merciless smile. “We’d better get to work. With Gabe gone, you get to be my second.”

  It started, as always, with the rituals of handshakes. Hadley saw the looks on the faces of the Crawford Notch Partners contingent as they recognized Robert. Head it off, she thought. Face it. “Gabe couldn’t be here today,” she said smoothly. “Allow me to introduce my father, Robert Stone.”

  As they all shook hands, she could practically hear Miller cursing for not digging more deeply. They sat and the dance began, as formalized as a minuet.

  “The agreements have been amended as discussed yesterday,” said Miller, while they reviewed the documents point by point. “Any questions from your end, Robert?”

  “Hadley is the one running this deal. Talk to her.”

  Even though she’d spent most of the last four hours reviewing the agreement, the pages looked strange now, foreign. And it seemed wrong to be executing the deal without Gabe there. There was some comfort in the fact that Robert was watching her back, but mostly it all made her conscious of the fact that something in her world was very wrong.

  Hadley folded her hands together. “The changes are complete, I’ve confirmed them. Everything looks consistent with respect to our discussion yesterday.”

  “Then it’s time to begin signing,” Miller said, pulling out a pen.