Snowflakes and Mistletoe at the Inglenook Inn

by Helen J Rolfe

  He took his phone back. ‘I just think that rather than telling Sofia what you think she should do, in snatched pieces of conversation, you need to back it all up with hard evidence. Present the facts in an easy-to-comprehend format and she might just see exactly what needs to be done. She’ll understand a way forward.’

  ‘I would hate to see this place close.’

  ‘It’s not that bad is it?’

  Concern etched across her brow. ‘It will be if she doesn’t rethink things soon and bring those customers in.’

  ‘Is that what this Christmas is about?’

  ‘It came at the right time. This is my chance to start by showing her, with photographs, figures, testimonials to back it up, that Christmas is a time she not only should open but needs to open.’

  Darcy fixed herself another drink while Myles was still on his second. He hadn’t had to prompt her this time, but she was relaxing as they talked more about the Inn. They covered suggestions and plans for how it could be advertised, about what to include in her presentation to Sofia. He discussed with her ways to get corporate customers on board. Much in the same way as he did with his clients, Sofia would need to earn their trust and ensure they could see what was in it for them.

  ‘I think the key with Sofia,’ he said, ‘is to know exactly what you’re talking about, cover every aspect you think she’ll question.’ He probed some more. ‘Is that what was going on earlier?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘When the chef came through to get you.’

  ‘Ah,’ she remembered. ‘He went to the store and the credit card got rejected. I didn’t even have any money in the cash box to give him. I had to use some of my savings. I’ve spoken with Sofia, who was more than embarrassed and promised to have some money transferred to the business account, but the way she was talking, I’m not sure she’s got an endless supply. I just hope we don’t have any mishaps through Christmas. We’ve ordered and paid for a turkey, sorted decorations and the liquor, but there’s still the day-to-day food we’ll need, particularly when the snow starts and everyone is hunkered down inside.’

  She seemed to check herself and held her glass aloft, the mint leaves wedged between ice cubes. ‘This has loosened my tongue far too much.’

  ‘Don’t worry, it won’t go any further, I promise.’

  ‘I appreciate it.’ A look passed between them. He wondered whether this side of Darcy rarely showed, the side that dropped the business woman façade and showed her vulnerability. ‘You know, I like to manage things on my own, and even calling Sofia was a struggle. I have to pull this off.’

  ‘Christmas?’

  She nodded. ‘Sofia doubted holding the main meal here would be popular, let alone profitable, but already the bookings have more than covered the costs, and I know the liquor consumption will go up so that’ll generate more money. And then there’s my secret weapon.’

  ‘Oh, and what’s that?’ He wondered what else she had hidden up her sleeve.

  ‘I have a very prestigious guest staying from Christmas Eve through the festivities. She works for a major publication and has promised me a huge feature in the New Year. She says a lot of people brood in the aftermath of Christmas and they want to make bookings for something to look forward to. She says the article will run and their reach for the magazine is huge.’ She used her hands to illustrate the point. ‘This could see bookings for next year, and to know that the season from Thanksgiving through to January is solid would be an enormous boost.’

  ‘I have every faith you can do it.’

  ‘Really?’ She put a hand against her chest. ‘You know, I think I can too.’ Her smile disappeared. ‘When Sofia’s husband left her, she almost hit rock-bottom. He was the provider, the man, the one who earned the money. She was lost. It’s a blessing he left her this house and she managed to do something with it.’

  ‘It worked out for her in the end,’ he confirmed.

  ‘I’m never getting into that position.’ The drinks certainly had made her a lot more talkative.

  ‘And what position is that?’ She was swaying slightly and he wouldn’t mind betting she hadn’t eaten enough to soak up the gin and tonics she’d drunk in quick succession.

  ‘Relying on someone else.’

  ‘A man?’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m not gay.’ She laughed and he couldn’t help but smile. This was a Darcy he’d never seen before and she was as fun as her conversation was stimulating. ‘It’s just that I never want to be one of those women.’

  ‘One of what women?’

  ‘The ones who need a man!’ She went behind the bar area, took out a bottle of water and downed almost all of it, pulling herself together with every sip. ‘It’s easily done. Women have a career, they marry, have kids, and then the job goes out the window. There’s nothing wrong with that. I get it. I just don’t ever want to be dependent on a man or anyone else for that matter.’

  ‘I don’t think you ever would be, Darcy. You seem as though you’ve got a good sense for business.’

  ‘You know, I’m going to do what you said. I’ll make a PowerPoint.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ The last swig of bourbon warmed him right through and she didn’t ask whether he wanted another, just took the glass, refilled it, got another drink for herself and carried on their conversation.

  ‘So what about you?’ She handed him his drink. ‘Have you called the agency yet?’

  He squirmed a little inside. So sure of himself until she’d brought up his potential dalliance with someone whose services he’d had to pay for. ‘Almost.’

  ‘Come on, live a little. You never know, you could meet the woman of your dreams.’

  He almost thought she meant it until she laughed. ‘Don’t joke. My boss has made it clear I should take a date. And if I don’t find one, he’ll be sorting me out with someone and that brings with it complications, expectations, things I don’t need.’

  ‘And how much do these escorts charge? You know, for a basic service.’ Her voice wobbled in amusement.

  ‘Glad you think it’s funny. They’re not cheap. It’ll definitely cost but it’s not the money I’m bothered about.’

  ‘How much are we talking? Ballpark.’ When he gave her the cost she whistled through her teeth. ‘You’ll pay that for one night of company?’

  ‘I’m looking at it as a strategic move,’ he countered. ‘A way to impress the boss, the client and get business moving longer term.’

  ‘I’d have thought a man like you would have women lining up to go.’

  He watched her. ‘I think you and I are very alike you know.’

  ‘How so?’ She moved forwards – just an inch, but enough that he could smell the floral scent he often caught wafts of on the air. It was subtle, sophisticated, and very Darcy.

  ‘We both work hard, we’re both independent and know what we want.’

  Darcy jumped up and went to the desk and the moment was over, but he smiled when he saw what she was doing. She took out a pair of glasses and perched them on the end of her nose. Myles began to laugh. She looked like a school-ma’am except way hotter. She pulled out an A4 pad of paper and a big black marker and stood in front of the fire, then kicked off her heels.

  This time it was Myles who turned to check they weren’t being watched. He suspected she rarely let her guard down and it was refreshing. He sensed she needed to do it, and at gone midnight they were pretty safe.

  She propped the pad on the mantelpiece. ‘Let’s go through the pros and cons.’ Darcy drew a straight line down the centre of the page, top to bottom. ‘Pro?’

  ‘I think she would be.’ He laughed hard and she joined in before shushing him.

  ‘Pro et contra, Mr Cunningham.’

  He kept his voice low against the peace of the brownstone. ‘If you’re going all Latin on me, then I didn’t listen much in that class at school. Hated it.’

  She pulled a face, reprimanding him, and pushed her glasses up her nose
a little so they didn’t fall off. ‘Pros and cons list. We’ll start with the pros of hiring an escort.’ Her pen was poised.

  ‘No strings,’ he called out.

  ‘Excellent.’ She scribbled it at the top of the left-hand column.

  ‘Intelligent conversation.’

  She looked down her glasses at him. ‘Really?’

  ‘I’m assured of it. Well, as much as I can believe from the website. I haven’t spoken to them yet.’

  Darcy jotted intelligent conversation beneath the words no strings. ‘What else?’

  ‘She wouldn’t be demanding when it was time to talk business. She could talk to the other wives, whilst being discreet.’

  ‘Excellent point, fabulous.’ Darcy scribbled away and he couldn’t help notice her buttocks having a little wobble beneath her skirt. Not in a bad way; firm but tantalising.

  He really needed to stop with the bourbon. Perhaps have a cold shower before bed. And if Darcy knew he was thinking these kinds of things he doubted she’d stand for it anyway.

  ‘You could potentially find someone for life,’ she suggested, but he shook his head before she wrote it down.

  They both thought for a moment.

  ‘You could get laid,’ she suggested. He spluttered on the bourbon in his glass. ‘What? It’s a genuine one for the pro list.’

  He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. ‘OK, write it down.’

  She penned S-E-X in huge letters.

  ‘I think we should move on to the cons now,’ he concluded.

  She unbuttoned her suit jacket and shrugged it off, another layer of her formality gone. ‘Hot,’ she said as though that explained it. She most certainly was. Her cheeks had pinked up from the heat of the fire and the drinks she was getting into.

  His lips twisted as he thought and he blew out his cheeks. ‘Laughing stock. Put that on the cons list, because if anyone finds out I’ll look like a total loser.’

  Grinning, she wrote LOSER as big as the word S-E-X. ‘What else?’

  ‘Money.’

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘She could be boring and I’ll wish I’d taken my grandma.’

  That one had her laughing as she wrote Granny on the right-hand side of the paper. ‘Anything else?’

  He sighed. ‘Darcy…’

  ‘Mmm…’ She was tapping the pen against her bottom lip, trying to think of something else.

  He leaned forwards again. ‘Darcy.’

  ‘Go on, I’m waiting.’ Pen was poised.

  ‘Would you go with me to my Christmas party?’ When she swung round to face him he added, ‘You don’t need to answer now. Think about it.’ He’d caught her off guard.

  ‘I’m not sure, Myles.’

  Should he have asked? In this moment, there was nobody else he’d rather take than her. He liked how independent she was, how she knew what she wanted, how she’d stood up to him that first time in the hotel in London. He liked that she had a work ethic to rival his own.

  ‘One moment please.’ Her school-ma’am approach was back as she looked down her nose through her glasses at him. She turned to the list propped up on the mantelpiece and his eyes followed her stocking-covered legs from her ankles up to the material of her skirt before he focused on the list too.

  She put a thick line through S-E-X. ‘I’ll be your escort,’ she said. ‘Should I cross out the no strings too?’

  ‘Why don’t we just wait and see?’

  A noise on the stairs had Darcy pushing her feet into her heels and shaking herself to look professional. ‘Everything OK?’ she asked whoever had appeared at the door.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you so late.’ It was Vanessa. ‘The shower in our bathroom is leaking. I didn’t notice it earlier but there’s an enormous puddle on the floor. I’d hate for it to seep through the ceiling.’

  Darcy was straight into business mode, even this late at night, and he had to admire her; she looked stone-cold sober. ‘I’ll get some old towels and come to mop the water up for now, which should keep it at bay until morning, when the plumber can take a look. He’s pretty good at coming out straight away. Don’t worry too much, we’ll get this sorted. And please accept a full complimentary breakfast in the morning.’

  Vanessa brightened. ‘Thank you so much.’

  When she disappeared off up the stairs again Darcy sighed deeply. She adjusted the damper on the fire. ‘Duty calls,’ she told Myles.

  ‘It’s OK.’ He stood, took his glass over to the bar and left it on the darkened wood. Darcy was already bending down to turn off the tree lights and even Myles had to admit the room lost something when they were off. He’d got used to the pine smell by now, the gentle flicker of lights and his distorted face reflected in the odd decoration as he walked by. ‘I’ll say goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight, Myles.’

  He turned to add something about the fact he’d asked her out on a date, but she’d already bustled off to the door that led down to the basement, presumably to find those old towels she’d mentioned.

  He just hoped she remembered this in the morning, all of this. She’d let her guard down and, without thinking, so had he. And he couldn’t help wondering whether this was the start of something real.

  Chapter Nine

  Darcy

  Ten days until Christmas

  ‘Follow me, it’s this way.’ Darcy smiled at Vince, the plumber, who had replied to her text message at six o’clock this morning, a rude awakening for Darcy after a few gin and tonics in swift succession and very little water to soak them up. She thought she’d represented sobriety very well last night when Vanessa came downstairs to tell her about the leak.

  Vanessa and Zach were ensconced in the hotel dining room enjoying eggs sunny-side up and waffles with maple syrup as Darcy dealt with the shower disaster. But after a swift evaluation, Vince confirmed it was the silicone sealant joint between the shower tray and the shower screen at fault. It had created quite a puddle last night but today Darcy was relieved to hear it wasn’t a problem with the shower walls or anything that would mean the cause needed substantial investigation. Basically, anything that was expensive would not be welcome, but this she could deal with.

  She left Vince to it and went downstairs. She’d switched the lights on for the garlands on the bannisters first thing, as she always did, so they lit the path to the ground floor. Her next task was to clean out the fire grate. She liked to do it as soon as she was up and about, then lay another fire ready to start when the moment was right. If she knew all the guests were going to be out during the day she often held off or timed it for their return.

  She hadn’t seen Myles yet and wondered how things would be between them after last night. Her mouth had gone very dry as she’d tried to give him an answer to his question, but she’d never felt so pleased at being asked on a date. Not since Lachie. Isabella was right. She had taken a lot of interest in her guest on the top floor and although she knew it wasn’t strictly professional, she couldn’t help the way she felt. The feelings had crept up on her and she’d gone from hating him for making demands in the London hotel that had led to her being fired to seeing him last night with his guard down. He was a different man entirely when he smiled and his right cheek dimpled ever so slightly, betraying the boy he once must have been. She didn’t know this man, but her heart skipped at the thought of getting to know him more.

  Darcy had a moment of panic that if something happened between her and Myles she’d get a reputation as the hotelier who liked to put it about. She froze, pan and brush in her hands, kneeling by the fire. Would customers think they could order extra perks, perhaps tick a box but instead of saying Christmas tree in room it would ask if they required Darcy’s special service?

  She shook away the crazy thought, cleared out the grate, and when she’d washed her hands she took out the pad of paper from the drawer she’d stashed it in last night before going to bed. She grinned as she looked at the words, her scribblings, the moment she’d bonded with
Myles Cunningham.

  ‘All done.’ Vince was in the doorway, box of tricks in hand.

  ‘That was quick.’

  ‘Very easy to do.’

  ‘How much do I owe you?’ The dreaded question. There was the callout fee, any materials he’d used. She had enough in her personal account to cover a small charge but hoped it was exactly that.’

  Vince shifted from foot to foot.

  Oh no, was it that much?

  ‘Sofia said she’d pay the last invoice and never did.’ He shrugged his shoulders, pulled a face as though he was feeling terrible about having to ask for money owed.

  ‘Vince, I’m so sorry. I never knew.’

  Now he looked more embarrassed. ‘I figured I wouldn’t chase it until Sofia came back, but now I’m here…’

  ‘Absolutely no need to explain, Vince.’ Darcy took out her own personal chequebook. ‘I’ll settle up the entire bill.’ She didn’t want to risk writing a business cheque in case Sofia hadn’t transferred the funds yet. It wouldn’t be fair to Vince and it would be embarrassing on their part too.

  When Vince told her the total amount, which included repairing the leaking faucet in the kitchen and unclogging a bathroom drain, both on separate callouts, she tried not to wince. She wrote him a cheque, added a tip, and when he went on his way she went to the computer to catch up with Sofia. She wasn’t available for FaceTime so Darcy sent an email asking whether the cash had gone into the account. Tired of prevaricating, she also asked whether Rupert’s wages were covered and if Jill, the cleaner, would definitely be paid this side of Christmas. Her personal funds could only go so far and she didn’t want to be in the position where she had to go to anyone else for money.

  Darcy took logs from the basket and arranged them in the grate and when the fire was laid she took a call from Holly, the editor who was coming to stay. Holly confirmed her reservation, the Christmas dinner she’d opted for, and said she was looking forward to her visit. But all it did was remind Darcy that this year had to be a success or she’d be worrying about the future of the Inglenook Inn. And the thought of it closing simply didn’t bear thinking about.