Their talk took them through the starters and on to the main course, with other people at the table joining in intermittently, and by the time they got to dessert and it was just the two of them talking again, Geoff said, ‘Now tell me, what do you do, Darcy?’
‘I work in hotels.’
His eyes widened. ‘This one?’
‘Not quite. The place I work is a little smaller.’
‘And where is it?’
She told him all about the Inglenook Inn, her responsibilities in the short-term, her dreams for the future.
‘You know, Darcy, my wife and I always try to stay at the boutique-type hotels whenever we go out of town. Last month we were in Vermont and stayed at a four-bedroom hotel in Burlington.’ He put a hand over his wife’s; she was on his opposite side and talking to a man whose name Darcy couldn’t remember. ‘What was the name of the hotel in Vermont?’
She told Darcy, smiled, and after Geoff patted her hand she went back to her conversation.
‘I’d be lost without her,’ Geoff grinned, earning himself a nudge from his wife. Darcy wondered what it would be like to be so close to someone that they finished your sentences, filled in the blanks when they got in the way of your memories.
‘Vermont is beautiful.’
‘It sure is,’ he said. ‘And the boutique hotel was much better for us. We could have our privacy but in the shared areas we got talking with other guests. It was so much more personal.’ He leaned closer. ‘I wouldn’t want to stay anywhere this grand. I’d feel like I was being scrutinised all the time, afraid to make a sound.’
‘That makes sense to me.’
‘So, where else have you worked?’ He was genuinely interested and Darcy knew it also took him away from the business a lot of people were still talking about at their tables. She could hear Myles talking about a new venture for the company, someone on their other side talking about high risk strategies, and she could tell by the furrow of a man’s brow on the table to the side of them that he would probably spend the entire night talking work.
Darcy told Geoff about some of her other work escapades and they talked about the hotel industry, the pluses and the minuses, about tourism in general, and by the end of the dinner Darcy felt thoroughly relaxed.
‘Thank you, Darcy.’ Geoff shook her hand as they stood to leave the table, and he handed her a business card. ‘Give my brother a call. As I explained, he works for a global company and they’re always on the lookout for good accommodation when employees relocate to New York.’
‘Wow, that’s great.’ She took the card and slipped it into her purse. ‘Thank you so much.’ This is what the Inn needed, good corporate business that could become a steady, reliable source of income.
‘Your young lady is like a breath of fresh air,’ Geoff told Myles when Myles joined them from the other side of the table.
‘She’s definitely that,’ he said. And when Geoff and his wife went on their way, added, ‘You seem to be enjoying yourself.’
‘I really am.’ As she looked round, her glittering earrings caught the light and reflected in the mirror, and she realised she actually was a part of this tonight. ‘You’ll have to excuse me though. I need to go to the restroom. The champagne has been going down very nicely.’
‘Of course.’ Myles smiled warmly. ‘Don’t be long, though. And I’ll meet you back here.’
Her heart leapt at his touch and the way he was looking at her tonight, and as she stood in line waiting for the restroom she found herself wondering what they could possibly do for their second date, because tonight was going better than she’d ever dared to imagine.
At the end of the line Darcy eventually made it into the toilet stall. She rested her purse on the hook on the other side of the door, careful to ensure it balanced, but a familiar voice caught her attention. It was Holly, the editor. She’d recognise that voice anywhere.
Darcy used the toilet, hoping she’d catch Holly before she left. She’d had no idea she would be here tonight and she wanted to ask whether she’d checked in at the Inglenook Inn and, more importantly, whether she was already impressed.
Holly and her companion had voices that travelled. Darcy smiled to herself. They were surely fuelled with champagne as they talked loudly about a man here tonight with a comb-over and rancid breath. Darcy only prayed the man’s wife wasn’t in here – if he was lucky enough to be married, that was.
But their next topic stopped Darcy in her tracks just as she was about to unlock the door.
‘I’ve found a gorgeous little place, The Inglenook Inn.’ Holly was answering the other woman’s question about where she was staying in Manhattan.
‘I’ve heard of it!’ her companion announced with glee.
Darcy grinned. This was a good sign. Word of mouth was exactly what they needed. But she wasn’t prepared for what came next.
‘It’s run by somewhat of a Cinderella, apparently,’ the woman continued, starting to laugh now.
Myles’s name for her made Darcy’s hand freeze on the lock and she was shaking, deep down knowing that this wasn’t going to be something she wanted to hear.
‘Cinderella?’ Holly’s unmistakable tone was inquisitive. Darcy guessed she had to be that way in her job, finding out the good and bad about the world.
‘The girl who runs it,’ the woman answered as though it should be obvious. She elaborated. ‘A colleague of Justin’s is staying there now. He’s over from England.’
Darcy had no doubt they were talking about Myles now.
The woman went on. ‘Apparently this girl, who Justin’s colleague has dubbed Cinderella, put up a Christmas tree in his apartment, which he hadn’t asked for and hated – he has some issue about Christmas. She just let herself in and tidied around like she had a magic wand and could make everything perfect again.’
‘This person obviously doesn’t know his fairy tales very well,’ said Holly. ‘It’s the Fairy Godmother who waves her wand, not Cinderella.’
The other woman harrumphed. ‘Well anyway, he sent a long email rant going on and on about it, how she’d wound him up, how she interfered, how she lights the fires and sweeps the grate and is always there in the background, lurking. She sounds like a bit of a bunny boiler if you ask me.’
Darcy slumped against the door. She couldn’t possibly go out now because Holly would know she’d overheard everything. Tears prickled her eyes and she felt her lower lip wobble. Usually she could take criticism, but not second-hand, or third-hand, and not when it had originated from the man she had begun to have feelings for. And Darcy valued honesty above all else. Lachie had never respected that and it looked like Myles was no different.
‘I didn’t find the manager like that at all.’ Holly’s voice drifted through the closed cubicle door. ‘If we’re talking about the same girl I think we are, I found her to be welcoming and friendly. I can’t imagine she’d interfere.’
‘Well, I suppose some people just clash.’
Darcy’s heart sank even further. She wanted to run far away from The Plaza and forget she’d even bothered coming here tonight.
‘I’m writing a feature on the place in the New Year,’ Holly confessed, their extended conversation keeping Darcy exactly where she was.
‘Well this will give you another angle. The Cinderella story.’ The woman’s cackling bounced off the walls of the restroom. Drunk or not, the words still had the power to hurt. ‘How about I forward the email to you? I’ll track it down – I’m sure Justin still has it.’ Darcy didn’t hear what else they said. All she heard was raucous laughter from the woman as the door to the restroom opened and then closed, leaving her hovering in the stall like a mouse too scared to come out and take a bite of the cheese in case the trap shut tight and finished her off.
Heart thudding against her chest, Darcy stayed in the stall until she was sure the restrooms were completely empty. Only then did she venture out. She was shaking, her eyes filled with tears. Angrily she swiped one away as it dared
to topple out and across her cheekbone. How dare he? How dare he write about her in such a horrid way? Did he realise what he’d done? Holly could ask for the actual email and use it! Readers would love a juicy angle, especially when it came from a guest’s perspective, and Holly wouldn’t have made her mark in the editorial world without delivering a few of those types of stories. This had the potential to tarnish Sofia’s reputation and her own.
And Myles was responsible for it all.
Chapter Eighteen
Myles
Myles was about to go and find Darcy. She’d taken forever in the restrooms and he hoped she hadn’t eaten anything out of the ordinary or drunk so much champagne that she was sick. When he finally saw her come back into the ballroom he could tell something was wrong.
He was at her side in seconds. ‘There you are. I was about to come and look for you.’ The sparkle had disappeared from her eyes. She looked right through him and he had no idea why. ‘What’s wrong? Have you had too much to drink?’
‘Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you.’
He guided her by her elbow away from anyone who could overhear their conversation but as soon as he did, Neil appeared beside them, his wife on his arm. ‘Myles, it’s time to show us what you English men have in the way of talent on the dance floor.’
Myles tried to laugh it off and get back to Darcy but his boss was having none of it so he took Darcy’s hand. ‘It looks like we don’t have a choice.’ He led them over to the small dance floor that had opened up, tables having been shifted to the sides of the room.
The orchestra struck up a slow rendition of ‘O Holy Night’, following on from a faster number, and Myles took Darcy in his arms. But rather than looking into her eyes, feeling her close to him, bodies pressing up together, she was rigid as though he was making her do something unpleasant.
‘What’s going on, Darcy?’ He moved her around the dance floor.
She pushed her hands against his chest in an effort to get away but he grabbed one hand, his other arm around her waist, and turned her again as they changed direction. ‘Darcy, talk to me.’
‘Darcy?’ She pulled back enough with her upper body that she was looking right at him rather than her head resting against his chest to one side. ‘I would’ve thought by now you’d know my name.’
He exhaled. It was already turning into a long night, with endless business talk that he really couldn’t face much more of. He kept her dancing to the sounds of the piano and violin, smiled as they glided past the potential new client dancing with his wife.
When they’d passed them by, he whispered into Darcy’s ear. ‘Please enlighten me, because I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.’ Even with a face full of anger, she was still beautiful. She had small frown lines at the top of her nose when she pulled the face she was making now, but it made her real, it made her honest. She was easily the best girl here, both inside and out, and he’d watched her from a distance as she warmed to his colleagues, chatted with people as though she’d known them years rather than minutes. He was in awe of her calm demeanour, the social graces she could carry off with skill and finesse.
‘Cinderella. That’s my name, isn’t it?’ She stopped now and as they were in the way of everyone else, he steered her off the dance floor over to a table, but she refused to sit down. ‘I’m Cinderella. I want everything to sparkle. I fuss around, sweeping and adding unnecessary touches when guests would rather be left alone.’
‘Darcy—’
‘Don’t Darcy me. In fact, don’t bother talking to me.’
He remembered his long email rant he’d sent in a fit of rage right after he’d shut the door in her face that day. His colleague had picked the wrong time to tag onto the end of a business email a casual ‘hope it’s all good over at the Inn’ and he’d unleashed his anger. He’d never once thought it would be shared or used against him. Especially not tonight, and certainly not by Darcy.
‘How did you know?’ he asked, his voice low.
‘Does it matter?’ Her voice didn’t follow suit.
He took her hand and led her out of the ballroom. She resisted but a tight grip ensured the conversation didn’t continue until they were alone, back in the corridor where she’d helped him remove the tag from his shirt, where her fingers had touched the skin on his neck and sent shivers cascading through his body.
When a member of staff passed them by Darcy described her jacket and the girl shuffled off to find it for her.
‘You’re leaving?’ he asked.
She didn’t answer.
‘I sent the email when I was angry,’ he tried to explain, ducking his head, moving it side to side in an attempt to grab her gaze, but she wouldn’t look at him.
‘You still sent it.’ She looked hard at the wall.
He put his hand on the side of her face and tried to turn her to look at him and when she finally relented he saw the tears building in her eyes, more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her before.
‘You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?’ She tried to move past him but he stopped her. He had her against the wall and she almost relented, her body softening as the heat of his chest kept her there. But she soon remembered how she’d intended this to go and pushed him away. ‘I heard a woman telling Holly, the magazine editor staying at the Inn right now, the woman who will put together a feature on the Inn, on me.’
His hand grazed his jaw. ‘I had no idea that would ever happen. I reacted in the heat of the moment.’
‘The things you said!’
‘Now wait a minute, I said the same things to you if I remember, when you put that tree in my apartment.’
‘I was trying to help!’
When the girl returned with Darcy’s jacket she shrugged it on and they didn’t say another word until she’d left them alone again.
‘I didn’t want that help, I didn’t ask for it, Darcy. All I can do now is apologise for sending the email. I’ll talk to Holly, I’ll let her know it was me, it was in my head, it wasn’t you or the way you are with guests. To be honest, I don’t really want my comments included in a bloody magazine article either. It’d be embarrassing.’ His attempt at injecting a little bit of self-pity fell flat.
‘She wouldn’t be naming you, don’t worry. She wouldn’t need to. The damage would be done. The magazine has a circulation of thousands!’
She tried to walk away and he put an arm either side of her, against the wall, his face inches from hers. ‘The editor won’t use it, especially if I tell her the whole story.’ He felt her breath – a breath of relief? – as he moved closer, convinced he had calmed her down enough. ‘Come back and dance with me. This is a date, and I don’t know about you but I’d really like it to continue.’
‘You’re an arrogant—’
He put his fingers across her lips. ‘Don’t say anything you’ll regret.’
When he took his hand away she was momentarily flummoxed, but it didn’t last long. ‘This was a mistake, Myles. Mixing business with pleasure is always a bad idea. I never should’ve agreed to come.’
She ducked under his arm, left the corridor and by the time he rounded the corner she’d already disappeared into the elevator and the doors shut. The last glimpse he got was Darcy looking at the floor beneath her.
He ran to the elevators and pressed the button to call the other one, hoping to catch her downstairs. But as he waited impatiently, Neil caught him and asked where his lovely lady had disappeared off to.
‘She’s not feeling well, and apologises, but says to thank you for a wonderful night.’
Neil and his wife sympathised but if they suspected he was lying they didn’t let on, and he had no choice but to conform and go to talk with the potential client, who, it seemed, was completely sold on the company.
Tonight he’d hoped to have the same effect on Darcy, but clearly it wasn’t meant to be.
Chapter Nineteen
Darcy
Darcy fled from the elevator, through the cor
ridors, past the stunning floral arrangements in the foyer, out through the revolving door of The Plaza and into the December chill, which she felt fully now Myles wasn’t by her side. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She kept walking, past a street vendor, past other people laughing and jovial as they enjoyed their night out. She gave a dollar to a homeless man on a step in a store doorway, she kept her head down as she walked on, and only slowed when she’d gone five blocks and the cold had sobered her up and calmed her down.
She stepped off the sidewalk and flagged down a taxi. The snow had stopped, the magical atmosphere was gone, and she climbed into the warmth, gave her destination and sat back to watch the city lights pass by in a blur. She’d been right not to want to get involved, right to stay away from a relationship that only introduced complications, right to make her career her entire focus.
The taxi wound its way through Manhattan and over to Greenwich Village, where the streets quietened at least a little. She paid the driver, stepped out and trudged up the steps to the entrance of the brownstone, her workplace, her home for now, the place she’d thought could be the next step to building her reputation in the industry.
Was she overreacting to what had happened?
She unlocked the front door and stepped inside to familiarity. The fire in the grate was almost out and she checked the damper was closed before ensuring the computer was off too. She looked at the clock. It was almost eleven. She texted Rupert a thank-you message for taking over this evening. She wouldn’t need him to do it again. From now on, she’d be here, focused, the solid, reliable Darcy who was happy to look after everyone else’s needs. It was easier than looking after her own.
‘Am I interrupting?’ It was Ian. He’d come downstairs so quietly he took Darcy by surprise. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was wondering if I could grab a nightcap. I know it’s late.’
Darcy was back in business mode. Despite the dress and heels, at least she still had the bolero jacket on so it made her feel more professional.
Snowflakes and Mistletoe at the Inglenook Inn (New York Ever After, Book 2) Page 19