Snowflakes and Mistletoe at the Inglenook Inn

by Helen J Rolfe

  By the time Darcy got to lunchtime and Rupert held the fort if anyone wanted a light lunch, snack or drink, Darcy escaped into the chill of Manhattan. Since she’d been back in New York she realised how much she’d craved the defined seasons. Winter was cold, magical, snowy and white, autumn was a plethora of reds, greens, golds and the time of pumpkin carving and wrapping up warm but still finding out those sunglasses. Summer was sweltering in the city and the heat wavered on the top of the tarmac streets, crowds congregated in Central Park for their alfresco lunch break, and with spring came the promise of a fresh season, the time to start anew. Now, blades of grass huddled around trees on the sidewalks but were no longer green, accepting their seasonal white coating of frost. Snow was forecast tonight although they’d been predicting it for the last week and, while it had certainly cooled down, they were yet to see a single flake fall from the sky.

  She walked from Greenwich Village to Washington Square Arch to meet Isabella, and ensconced in a restaurant she was looking forward to a proper catch up.

  ‘I’ve got a couple of hours,’ Darcy announced, handing her coat to the maître d’.

  Isabella grinned as they took their seats at the table at the far end of the room. ‘Don’t tell my sister I’m having a long lunch though. She’s been trying to drag me along to home-furnishing stores to choose things for her new place.’

  As they talked some more about her sister Sherry and the apartment she’d bought in Brooklyn, Darcy wondered when she’d be able to get on the property ladder. Given her love of Manhattan, she doubted it would be anytime soon.

  ‘So come on, I want to hear more about the Inn,’ Isabella prompted after they’d chosen from the menu and covered the topics of siblings, parents and Christmas-shopping progress.

  ‘I nearly forgot.’ Darcy reached into her bag and took out two presents. ‘If you could take these to Cleo’s store in Inglenook Falls it would be fantastic.’

  ‘Of course.’ She reached across and at the rattling sound from one of the presents, she asked, ‘Did you get the Lego?’

  ‘Lego for Jacob, but I went for make-up for Ruby. I hope Dylan doesn’t mind.’

  ‘She’s a girl, she’ll love it, and he’ll love that she loves it.’ She put the gifts into her own bag. ‘Come on then, how’s the Inn? Still standing?’

  ‘Of course! And the tree is up now so it’s lovely in the lounge.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ She sipped from her glass of water.

  ‘Sofia has been a bit behind paying bills though, so I’ve emailed her. She can’t ignore it any longer.’

  ‘You need to sit her down when she gets back to New York and tell her all your thoughts on the place. She probably doesn’t really think about them when you mention changing the room specifications, or making Christmas a big feature, etcetera etcetera. Sit her down, tell her what’s what. You’re good at that. Well you are.’ She shrugged as the waiter set down her fettuccine Alfredo and Darcy’s sea scallops with sweetcorn and rosemary-roasted potatoes. ‘Why are you smiling?’

  ‘It’s just that I asked someone else’s advice last night and was told much the same. I was told I have to present the facts to get Sofia to fully comprehend what’s going on.’ She cut through a scallop and savoured the seafood burst as she took a bite. Hand in front of her mouth, she asked, ‘Now why are you smiling?’

  ‘The advice wouldn’t have come from a certain businessman, would it?’

  The colour in Darcy’s cheeks gave her away. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Just a feeling I had, that’s all.’ She only stopped grinning because she had to focus on getting the fettuccine into her mouth without it splattering anywhere.

  ‘Well it was just a friendly chat.’ Apart from the bit where he asked her out on a date that was. ‘And he was helpful. He suggested I put everything together in a formal presentation. We went through several possibilities; it was good to talk with someone who…what? Would you stop looking at me like that!’

  ‘Well usually you’d have a glass of wine with a special catch-up lunch, but I’m assuming you had a few glasses last night when you had your talk with Mr Upstairs.’

  ‘Oh my god! Are you psychic?’

  ‘Just a hunch. Not like you, to drink on the job.’

  ‘It was well after hours and everyone else was in bed. And stop calling him Mr Upstairs, or Mr Top Floor. His name is Myles, and you know I like the personal touch with my guests.’ Of course, her remark caused Isabella to collapse into fits of laughter. ‘That came out wrong. You know exactly what I mean. Now if we could change the subject, I’d appreciate it.’

  Talk changed to Jake. Things were getting serious. They’d discussed sharing a place together and already Darcy could tell Isabella was hoping it would lead to a more serious commitment.

  ‘I’m really pleased for you, Isabella. You deserve to be happy.’

  ‘His brother’s coming into town next week.’

  ‘For Christmas?’

  ‘Just for a couple of days. He’s moving back from Chicago.’

  ‘Wait, I hope you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking. You know I don’t do blind dates. I don’t have the time, energy or inclination.’ It was almost like getting an escort when you thought about it, except it didn’t cost you anything.

  ‘Oh come on, we’ve got tickets to see the Christmas Spectacular at Radio City Hall, it’ll be a blast.’

  ‘I’m sure it will, but I’m still not interested.’

  ‘He’s gorgeous you know. Come on, Darcy. When was the last time you had a date?’

  She thought about it. ‘In London.’

  ‘My point exactly.’

  ‘I’ve been busy since I got back.’

  ‘It’s no excuse.’

  ‘Oh be quiet and finish your pasta. Then we can order coffees. I’ll just text Rupert to make sure everything is OK back at the Inn.’ She sent off a quick message and he replied soon enough to say everything was running smoothly. Her shoulders sagged with relief when he added that Sofia had confirmed the money was safely in the business account and they could go on as usual. She’d also transferred an amount to Darcy’s account to cover the bills she had to pay for and had apologised profusely for the inconvenience. Darcy could only imagine how guilty she felt. It wasn’t how she’d intended to make her feel but Sofia did need to make some changes when she came home.

  They finished their meal and after they’d ordered a coffee each, Darcy admitted, ‘I actually have a date.’

  ‘Get out!’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Who with?’

  Darcy pulled a face.

  ‘Myles? No way!’

  ‘Yes, but he only asked me because he’s stuck for someone to go with him to a work Christmas party.’

  ‘Rubbish. I’ll bet he asked you for more reasons than that. Well I never.’

  Darcy hadn’t forgotten that he’d said ‘we’ll see’ when she offered to cross out the ‘no strings attached’ comment in the pro list they’d come up with. She didn’t go into all those details with Isabella but she did explain that Myles had been considering hiring an escort.

  ‘He sounds a bit naive. Surely there are sexual favours with those.’

  ‘He says not, but I think he had his doubts, which I suspect is why he ended up asking me to go with him. Oh god, you don’t think he’ll try to pay me do you?’

  Isabella’s eyes widened. ‘I don’t know. How did you leave things?’

  ‘We kind of didn’t. As soon as he’d asked me, there was a plumbing emergency upstairs and I was back to work.’

  ‘So you don’t know any details, like when the party is, or where?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Darcy realised how lame this date actually sounded. In fact, it sounded like a non-date, as though she’d dreamt it all up. ‘I haven’t bumped into him yet.’ She wondered how she’d handle it when she did.

  Isabella thanked the waiter when he set her coffee down in front of her and Darcy did the same. ‘I think I need to d
rop by the Inn, vet him myself.’

  Darcy paused, stirring her caramel macchiato with a spoon. ‘Don’t you dare.’

  ‘Why not? We used to do it in school. If one of us was ever asked on a date, the other had to see them first and give their honest opinion before we could agree.’

  ‘We’re not sixteen any more, Issy.’

  ‘Then don’t call me Issy.’ She grinned. Darcy had adopted the name she’d called her friend right up until Isabella had insisted it was no longer shortened. She was a respectable member of the workforce now and she claimed her full name gave her superiority. ‘Please let me see him. He sounds incredibly hot.’

  ‘Why would you think that? I haven’t described him to you and I haven’t exactly been complimentary about him either.’

  ‘That’s what’s given me the impression. He’s got under your skin, that’s how I know there’s something about him. So what time can I stop by?’

  ‘He’s a guest at the Inn, I’m not his keeper. He’s a businessman with unpredictable hours.’ She sighed and relented. ‘He comes back by sevenish, sometimes earlier, and then he’s usually around after nine o’clock when he comes down for a nightcap.’

  ‘I’ll bet he does,’ she winked cheekily.

  They finished their coffees and Darcy put up with the joking about Myles, Isabella’s speculation about what he’d be like in bed if things ever progressed further.

  One thing was for certain as they left the restaurant and ventured back beneath the bruised black clouds threatening rain. She had no idea where she stood with Myles Cunningham.

  Chapter Ten

  Myles

  Nine days until Christmas

  Myles ran along the High Line early, before crowds of tourists plagued the place. He’d learnt his lesson soon after arriving in New York when he tried to run along there in the middle of the day. It’d been a case of him versus the selfie stick, same on the Brooklyn Bridge. Now, unless he was running somewhere with wide-open spaces, he made it a rule to go earlier.

  He hadn’t seen Darcy at all yesterday but as his breath met the cold air and his feet pounded Manhattan’s celebrated pedestrian park that was once a railway, he knew he’d have to face her sooner rather than later. Doing so had become almost as terrifying a prospect as phoning the number on the escort-agency card. He’d never got nervous asking a woman out on a date before. He’d taken it all in his stride.

  He reached the end of the route and slowed to walking as he made his way through the Chelsea Market. He checked his training watch, impressed he’d beaten his last time here. Two areas of his life were flying: work and his running performance. He wondered if he’d ever be lucky enough to add in the personal element and score the trifecta.

  He walked back to the Inn hoping he could sneak inside and shower before he bumped into Darcy but when he saw her dark hair cascading around her shoulders as she adjusted the wreath out front on the entrance door he knew he’d have to face her now.

  ‘Hey,’ she said in her American accent that was returning more by the day as she lost the touches of accents and phrases she’d picked up around the world and slipped back into her native tongue.

  He trudged up the steps of the brownstone as she held the door open for him. The rain of yesterday had stopped and it was as though the air stood still, waiting for the snow that had been promised on all the news channels for the last few days. ‘I wouldn’t get too close,’ he warned as she shut the door. ‘I’ve been running.’

  ‘I can see that.’ Her hair covered her face enough so he couldn’t tell whether she was smiling as she grabbed a broom to sweep the hallway.

  ‘I hope it snows soon,’ he said, desperate to make regular conversation. ‘I’m looking forward to Manhattan in the snow.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she confirmed, her brush gliding past his feet. She propped the broom against the wall and took out a dustpan and brush from the closet in the hallway. ‘I love it, but I hate the aftermath.’

  He smiled in acknowledgement. ‘Ah yes, the filth and the black slush when it melts; the part we all like to forget about.’

  Was she even going to mention the other night? Perhaps she’d put it down to too much to drink, a stress reliever at the time but something that offered nothing more than confusion now.

  The dirt all cleared away, she asked, ‘Did you want to order breakfast? Rupert is still here.’

  Usually he had a bowl of cereal in his apartment before dashing out of the door for work. He looked at his watch. Strictly he didn’t have time, but he needed to psyche himself up to talk about the date he’d suggested, and he was never going to do that unless he spent more time near her. He ordered poached eggs with toast and a side of mushrooms and said he’d be down after his shower.

  Myles used his time beneath the warm jets to go over in his head what he was going to say to Darcy. This was worse than when he was meeting an important client. Where was the confidence he usually had no problem administering in social situations?

  Downstairs in the dining room at the rear of the brownstone, with balcony doors that would open in the warmer months but were now blocked with a Christmas tree, he sat at a table by the wall. Rupert brought out his breakfast and they chatted about countries they’d visited, New York’s approaching winter and what it was really like in February when the cold felt like nothing else, and by the time he’d finished and he still hadn’t seen Darcy, Myles knew he had to make the bold move and just talk to her.

  He found her in the lounge, where it looked like she was concentrating hard on something at the computer. She looked up when she became aware of him lurking.

  ‘Darcy, I wanted to touch base with you about the other night.’

  Her smile reached her eyes and he hoped she was smiling with him not laughing at him. ‘Touch base? Now that sounds formal.’ She came round to his side and perched on the desk, her proximity making him flustered.

  ‘The question I asked you. Now, I totally understand if you woke up and realised what a colossal mistake it would be to go with me to the work Christmas party.’

  ‘I don’t think that.’

  ‘The thing is, I really need someone…hang on…’ He paused. ‘Do you mean you’re still happy to go?’

  She shrugged. ‘You didn’t give me any specifics, which makes it hard for me to commit.’

  He gave her the date and the time. ‘It’s at The Plaza.’ He didn’t miss the look on her face. ‘It’s a big deal, yes.’

  ‘I’ve never been to The Plaza before, not apart from the food court downstairs.’ She adjusted her suit jacket although it was already sitting straight, the tailored lines complementing her figure by falling across her curves in all the right places.

  ‘Then it’ll be a first for both of us,’ he said, holding her gaze.

  She moved to the other side of the desk. ‘Let me double-check my diary.’ Her nails drummed against the computer keyboard and then she looked up. ‘It appears that date is fine. I’ll need to check with Rupert that he can cover if I need him to, and I’ll have to take my cell phone in case of emergencies.’

  He tried not to smile so much it scared her away, because he couldn’t believe his luck. She’d said yes! ‘So it’s a date?’

  ‘I guess so. Just one thing…what’s the dress code?’

  ‘We’ll be in the Grand Ballroom.’ He didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath. ‘I’ll be in a tux.’

  ‘I’d better get something sorted then.’

  He was sure whatever she wore, she’d look fabulous. Suddenly he felt relieved he’d had the bourbon that night and that he’d been able to persuade her to relax and take a moment for herself. He was looking forward to the party, something he never would’ve been able to do had he opted to take his secretary or, god forbid, an escort. Now, he was taking someone because he actually wanted to, and it felt good.

  Watching her now, awkward with their personal conversation, her confidence not quite as resounding as it usually was, he felt bad about calling h
er Cinderella the day she’d attempted to introduce some of the Christmas spirit into his apartment. It hadn’t been fair on her at all, and he would never stop being sorry that he’d reacted that way.

  ‘If you need help with the dress…’ he began, sensing she was fretting about the formality of the occasion.

  ‘I think I’m quite capable of choosing something.’

  ‘I meant, if you need help buying it. Dresses for these sorts of functions don’t come cheap.’

  She held up a hand. ‘I’ll stop you right there. I’m happy to buy something, I don’t need you to do it for me.’

  ‘Accept a dress as a gift,’ he suggested. ‘It’s cheaper than paying for an escort.’ As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished he hadn’t said them. ‘I didn’t mean it that way.’

  ‘I’d better get on.’ She indicated the desk behind her.

  ‘Me too.’ Perhaps he should leave before he ruined it completely.

  He turned and only breathed a sigh of relief when he was the other side of the entrance door to the brownstone. Something about this girl made his brain turn to mush and his words come out in the worst possible way. The only exception to the rule had been the other night and it had ended all too quickly. He hoped they’d be able to get back to the easiness of conversation and enjoyment of one another’s company when it came to the night at The Plaza.

  He pulled his scarf tighter round his neck, headed for the subway, and put his personal life out of his mind for now as he got back to what he knew how to do best. Work.

  *

  Myles lost himself in a client account for the rest of the day. His projections went down well, they signed agreements and over lunch they discussed strategy. He caught up with paperwork in the afternoon, attended four meetings, and by the time he switched off his computer and night fell all around the office surrounding his floor-to-ceiling windows with a thick black cloak punctuated by stars and city lights, he was exhausted.

  He almost ignored the phone when it rang but for some reason picked it up as one arm pushed into his coat.