by Mona Ingram
“You’re welcome.” She gave her a sly look. “Wasn’t it nice that Adrian was just walking by?”
Morgan wasn’t sure how to respond.
“As if I believed that.” Karen grinned. “But it was sweet.”
Morgan looked over at the concierge desk, but Klaus was there by himself, engrossed in conversation with a guest.
“He’s out for a late lunch.” She grinned again and for the first time Morgan noticed that she had a dimple, much like Chance’s. “For some reason he thought it necessary to stop by and tell me.”
“It’s getting kind of complicated.” Morgan looked away.
“Because his family owns the hotel?”
Morgan looked at her, speechless.
“Tyler told me.” She lifted her shoulders in a casual shrug. “He knows somebody who worked in the kitchen at Klosters.”
Morgan gave a short laugh. “I’ve only known about it for a couple of days. He told me that eventually someone would come along who knows him.”
“I don’t think Tyler plans to tell anyone.” She worked on the computer for a few moments. “Is that going to change anything between you two?”
Morgan considered the question for a moment. “We’re still getting to know each other but I’m hoping it doesn’t.”
“Well good luck. You guys are cute together.”
“Cute?”
“Yeah, cute. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
Morgan had to smile. “No, I guess not.”
Chapter Fourteen
The front desk telephone rang and Karen answered. “Front Desk, how many I help you?”
Morgan sensed the change as Karen frowned, and called up the account for Suite #326 on the computer. “No, Mrs Glasser.” She glanced over at Morgan. “I’ve been here since this morning and I haven’t seen him.” She held the phone away from her ear and Morgan suppressed a smile. “Yes, I’ll call you immediately if I see him.”
“That was Mrs. Glasser. She just came in from shopping and her little boy is missing. She’s having a fit.” She thought for a moment. “I think I should go tell Adrian.” She didn’t wait for a response, but walked briskly across the lobby in the direction of the restaurant.
“Have you heard?” Mr. Wynn-Jones startled her by entering the front desk area from the side door. “The young Glasser boy is missing.”
“Yes, we heard. Karen has gone to tell Adrian.”
“That’s not necessary. He can’t do...” He stopped in mid-sentence. “Yes, I suppose that’s a good idea. He can help search.”
At that moment Adrian and Karen entered the lobby. Adrian acknowledged Morgan with a quick glance, then spoke to Mr. Wynn-Jones.
“Shall I accompany you upstairs, sir? I’d like to hear what Mrs. Glasser has to say and perhaps I could help search.”
“Yes, of course.” The manager puffed himself up. “Come along.”
As they neared the elevator, Adrian turned and made a subtle gesture with his cell phone.
“What was that all about?” Morgan turned to Karen. “Did you see that?”
She nodded. “Check your cell phone. I think he was trying to tell you something.”
Morgan went into the back room, dug out her phone and smiled. Back at the front desk, she showed it to Karen. “He must have put his number in last night.”
“I guess he was trying to signal you to call him if you hear anything.” She turned away to answer the phone.
At that moment a handsome but obviously distressed man raced up the outside steps and across the lobby.
He looked around frantically. “I’m Peter Glasser. Has my son been found yet?”
Morgan spoke calmly. “I don’t know, sir. Mr. Wynn-Jones has just gone upstairs to see your wife.”
He turned away without another word, strode to the elevators, and punched the button impatiently. A soft ‘ping’ announced the arrival of the car and he stepped inside.
* * *
“But what if he’s been kidnapped?” Sylvia Glasser had worked herself into a full-blown panic. The frightened nanny cowered in the corner of the room, having received a thorough dressing-down in front of Adrian and Wynn-Jones.
“I don’t think that’s very likely, Mr. Glasser.” The manager did his best to calm her. “That just doesn’t happen around here.”
“Well, it could!” She turned on him, eyes blazing. “There’s always a first time.”
“He’s right, Mrs. Glasser.” Adrian stepped forward.
Her angry gaze flicked from Adrian to Mr. Wynn-Jones. “I won’t have some room clerk second-guessing me! Who the hell are you, anyway?”
Peter Glasser burst through the door. “Adrian! Is that you?” He extended his hand and clapped Adrian on the back. “I didn’t know you were in Whistler. What can you tell me?”
Wynn-Jones blanched in the face of this familiarity, but he pushed forward. “We think your son has been missing for about half an hour. Possibly longer.” He glanced over at the nanny. “The nanny says she last saw him during her favourite talk show.”
Peter Glasser took in the suite with one sweeping glance. “Where are his toys?” He turned to his wife. “I thought you were going to buy him some toys. The kid is bored to tears. It’s no wonder he’s run off.”
Adrian took a few steps away. Peter must be angry indeed to berate his wife in front of others. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he walked over to the window and answered. “Yes, Morgan?”
“Adrian, don’t say anything, but I think I might know where Brandon is. It might be nothing, so I don’t want to get their hopes up, but he talked about hiding in the linen closet.”
Adrian shot a quick glance at Peter, then turned around again. “Can you get up there right away and look for him?”
“I’m in the service elevator now. If I find him shall I call you back, or just bring him to the suite?”
He clutched the phone. “Bring him to the suite.”
Morgan stopped at the unmarked door and fumbled with the emergency master key. It was dark inside and her hopes of finding the child faded. To be sure, she flicked on the light switch and moved farther into the room, between the rows of shelving.
“Brandon?” she called. “Are you in here?”
A rustling noise on the other side of the shelves drew her attention and her heart leaped into her throat. She ran around and found the child blinking at the bright light.
“Hi there,” she said, trying to keep the relief out of her voice. “Shall we go back to your room?”
“Okay.” He grinned up at her. “Can I have some ice cream?” His small hand slipped into hers.
“Let’s ask your Mom and Dad, okay? They were worried when they couldn’t find you.”
They walked down the long corridor and turned left to the corner suite. The door stood open, and she saw Adrian speaking to the Glassers. Mr. Wynn-Jones stood by, trying unsuccessfully to appear in charge. The child brightened. “That’s my Daddy!” he cried, letting go of her hand and hurling himself at his father. “Daddy!”
Adrian watched the joyful reunion for a moment, then raised his gaze to Morgan. “Come in,” he said, gesturing with his hand. “I’d like you to meet Peter Glasser. Peter’s an old friend of the family.”
Morgan extended her hand. “Hello, Sir.”
“Call me Peter.” His smile was brilliant now that he had his son back. “Thank you, Morgan. I knew something was up when Adrian asked us to wait a few minutes before we started searching.” He placed a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “I forced him to tell me why you thought you knew where Brandon was.”
Sylvia Glasser had the good sense not to comment.
Morgan looked down at the child. “We had a date for ice cream a few days ago, didn’t we, Brandon?”
The child nodded vigorously. “Want to go for ice cream now.” He tugged at his father’s slacks. “Please, Dad?”
“Not now, son. We have to talk about how you’re not going to hide in the linen room anymore.” He t
urned to the nanny. “Jacinta, please call room service and order some ice cream for the boy.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Sylvia Glasser pushed forward. “What I want to know is why the door to the linen room was left open. Your housekeeping people need to be reprimanded for this.”
Morgan fumed silently. The woman was trying to divert attention from her failure to buy the promised toys.
Adrian dropped down to his haunches beside the child. “Tell me, Brandon. Was the door standing open when you went inside?”
The child pulled himself up to his full height. “I’m a big boy now. I open it with the doorknob.” He made a twisting motion.
Adrian stood and faced the irate woman. “The housekeeper unlocks the room in the morning to allow access for the maids and locks it again at night. It’s an unmarked door.” He gave her a steady look. “It appears that housekeeping has done nothing wrong, but I’ll make them aware of what transpired.”
“You do that.” Mrs. Glasser looked to her husband for backup, but he was playing on the floor with their son.
Peter Glasser looked up and rose as Adrian moved with Wynn-Jones and Morgan toward the door. “Thanks, man,” he said, giving Adrian a brief, friendly hug. He turned to Morgan. “And thank you, Morgan. Brandon seems to be a big fan of yours.”
She smiled. “He’s a cute kid.”
Glasser offered his hand to Wynn-Jones for a quick shake. “You must be pleased to have employees like Morgan here. Not many hotel employees would give up their break to take a child for ice cream.” He stopped abruptly, as though considering his own words, then turned to his son. “Come on Brandon. You and I are going downstairs for some ice cream.”
“But what about the room service?” Sylvia Glasser’s tone was shrill.
He waved her comment away. “Let them eat it. Come on, Brandon.”
* * *
“So.” Karen had waited until the manager was in his office and Adrian was back at the concierge desk. “I see you found him.”
Morgan nodded. “Asleep in the linen room.”
Karen glanced over her shoulder. “Wynn-Jones didn’t look happy.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “You weren’t here the day I took Brandon for ice cream, were you? He totally sided with Mrs. Glasser when she flipped out. Said it was going on my personnel record.”
Karen’s lips tightened into a thin line. “He’s a real piece of work.” She became brisk and businesslike again. “Okay, let’s go over the check-ins for tonight.”
Chapter Fifteen
Morgan was exhausted by the time her shift finished and she gladly turned the desk over to the man who worked night audit. She’d managed to eat some soup on her break, but not much more. Thank goodness she had the day off tomorrow. She intended to sleep in and then stock up on supplies for the small kitchen.
“Morgan.”
She’d been hoping he would show up. They’d both been busy since the incident with Brandon Glasser and she still hadn’t thanked him for looking after her last night.
“Hi, Adrian.”
Melting snow clung to his hair and he smiled at her across the lobby, shifting his gloves nervously from one hand to the other. “I thought maybe you could use a ride home.”
She twisted her scarf around her neck. “I was hoping you’d offer.”
“Really?” The delight in his voice warmed her. He took her arm as they went to the elevator. “Shall we stop for something to eat?”
Suddenly hungry, she checked her watch. “It’s late, but there might be a drive-thru open. We could take the food back to the Lodge and eat downstairs.”
“Good idea.” He tucked her carefully into the passenger seat and they pulled out slowly. At the top of the ramp he pulled the vehicle over, dug his phone out of his pocket and speed-dialled.
“Yes,” he said. “This is Adrian Zimmerman.” He waited for a moment. “I’m just outside of the garage entrance, and it’s slippery here. Would you please have Security put down some de-icing compound right away?” He listened, then nodded. “Thank you. Good night.”
Morgan scarcely recognized this new Adrian. He’d been forceful without being bossy, confident without being demanding.
“So they know who you are?” she asked.
He nodded. “Security had to know, and the fellow who works night audit was there when I arrived late the first night.”
She tried to read his expression as he pulled out. “Is someone in trouble?”
He shot her a quick look. “What? No.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “There’s been enough blame assigned already today, wouldn’t you say?” He turned left onto Highway 99. “Security would have found it on their rounds, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
* * *
“How about here?” Adrian chose a table close to the fake fireplace and deposited their hamburgers, fries and drinks. Dismayed, Morgan watched him walk to the television. The last thing she wanted to do was watch a late-night talk show.
“I know there’s a music channel on here somewhere,” he said, scrolling through the channel guide. “Oh, here it is.”
Soft music filled the room and he lowered the sound, then walked to the wall beside the fireplace and pressed the switch.
“When I saw this the first time I thought it was ridiculous, but it’s really not bad, is it?” Flickering light cast shadows on his face and she noticed for the first time that he had dark circles under his eyes.
“Come and eat,” she said, gesturing to the table. “You look like you’re ready to drop.”
He sank down into the chair beside her, then removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I’m not too bad.” He put his glasses back on and grinned at her. “You’re the one who’s made an amazing recovery.”
She took a sip of her tea. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She gave him a weak smile. “Thank you for everything you did for me last night. I should have known better than to try to drink that stuff.”
He took a bite of his hamburger and chewed thoughtfully before he spoke. “Don’t feel too bad. I hear Tyler could barely lift his head this morning.” He nudged her food. “Eat up.”
Morgan ate a couple of fries and followed them with some more tea. “Rob actually apologized today.”
“Really?” His eyes narrowed.
She looked into the distance. “It wasn’t much as apologies go, but the word ‘sorry’ was in there somewhere.” She lifted her hamburger, but didn’t eat. “I forced myself to maintain eye contact while he spoke, and you know what I saw?”
“What?”
“Nothing. There’s an emptiness there, behind his eyes. I found myself feeling sorry for him.” She nodded to herself and took a bite. “He’ll probably end up being a lonely old man.”
A smile played around Adrian’s lips and she found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him. She looked away abruptly.
“What?” He touched the back of her hand and she looked up. Her gaze lingered on his mouth and he smiled again. Was he reading her thoughts? The idea didn’t disturb her at all.
“Morgan...”
“Adrian...”
They spoke at the same time.
“You go ahead,” he said.
She looked down at her food, suddenly shy with him. “I just wanted to make sure that you know how much I appreciate everything. I was a real mess.”
His gaze flickered down to the front of her blouse. It was her turn to flush. “It was my pleasure,” he said, somewhat huskily.
They ate for several minutes in comfortable silence.
“You have the day off tomorrow, don’t you?” he asked, probing the bottom of the container for the last of the fries.
Morgan nodded. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Would you like to do something?”
She didn’t need to be asked twice. “I’d like that. Did you have anything in mind?”
“Not really. What about you? There must be something you’
d like to do.” He smiled at her indulgently.
She could get used to being spoiled like this. “I’d love to take a ride on the Peak-2-Peak. I hear it’s absolutely....”
The blood drained from his face.
“Adrian?” His knuckles were white where he gripped the edges of the table. “Are you all right?”
He blinked, looked at her and nodded. “Ya.” He tried to laugh, but no sound came out.
Morgan spoke softly. “It was something about the Peak-2-Peak, wasn’t it?”
He nodded, but wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Adrian.” She pried his fingers from the table and held his hand between both of hers. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He looked down at their hands and his expression eased. “I’m afraid of gondolas. Gondolas, chair lifts, anything that goes up the side of a mountain.” He blew out a long, steady stream of air and finally raised his eyes to meet hers. “That’s why I don’t ski.”
It made sense...sort of. “I’m sorry I suggested it. I didn’t know.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and released it. “We could do something else.”
He stared at the fireplace and she could almost see him making up his mind. He touched the scar high up on his cheekbone. “No. It’s time I got over my fear. Let’s do it.”
“But...”
“No, I’m sure.” He gave a shaky laugh. “Let’s do it in the morning, before I lose my nerve.”
She watched him carefully. “This isn’t some sort of macho guy thing is it? You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I know.” His eyes softened when he looked at her. “But it’s something I need to do. And doing it together will make it a lot easier.”
“Okay then, but it takes separate trips. I thought we’d go up Blackcomb, across on the Peak 2 Peak to Whistler, and then back down.”
He looked at her steadily. “I can do it.”
She was still unsure, but he looked determined. “Okay. Where shall we meet and what time?”
Chapter Sixteen
It was snowing softly when they drove into the Village the next morning. Fine flakes that appeared more like a heavy fog than snow.
Adrian paused at the foot of the Blackcomb gondola. “When it snows like this, it reminds me of my Grandmother’s lace curtains.” Morgan was surprised when he reached for her hand. In spite of his nervousness, she felt safe with him.