‘I don’t know how else to say I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the editor, I’ll tell her the truth, how this inn is the best place I’ve ever stayed, the hostess one of the loveliest women I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.’
Before Darcy could say anything else, Ian stood and when Myles heard a noise behind him he turned. ‘Dad, didn’t see you there.’ It took him a moment to look past Ian and to the sofa, where an anxious mother was waiting to see the reaction of her son. ‘Mum?’
‘I came to surprise you.’
Myles’s face fell. ‘You’ve certainly done that. Was this planned all along?’
Darcy could see exactly where this was going and she was powerless to stop it. Ian looked completely gutted, Martha looked devastated and Myles went on.
‘You thought you’d send Dad out here to sweet-talk me, then join him later when he’d paved the way. Why can’t you let me do things in my own time?’
Martha rose and came over to join both men. None of them seemed concerned that they were doing this in the lounge in front of Darcy.
‘It wasn’t planned, Myles. I can see why you would think that. But it wasn’t. I let Ian come out here; I didn’t want to, I thought it would be a bad idea. I did want to let you do things in your own time, but then I thought: you know what, if I do that we’ll never sort this out. This mess will keep snowballing until there’s no way back.’
She kind of had a point, Darcy thought. She went to move past them.
‘I need a hot shower,’ said Myles. ‘Then we’ll talk.’
His parents watched him go and Darcy was about to leave them to it when Holly came through the front door. She nodded to Ian and Martha as they went off to their apartment.
‘Good afternoon, Holly.’ Darcy tried to put aside the drama that had just taken place and, instead, pretend everything was normal. ‘Or should that be good evening?’ she smiled. Night had drawn a curtain over Manhattan already.
‘It’s really coming down out there.’ Holly brushed the excess white flakes from her hair although as they met the heat of the room they dissolved into droplets that soon made all traces of the weather outside disappear.
Darcy moved to the window and cupped her hands around her eyes to look out. ‘It really is!’ Perhaps they were going to get snow for Christmas after all. ‘Are you a fan of the snow?’
Holly held out a hand, tipped it left and then right. ‘Yes and no. At Christmas for sure. New Year’s too. But after that, you can shove it where the sun don’t shine.’
Darcy giggled. ‘Pretty much the way I feel too.’ Snow made Manhattan picture-postcard perfect for a while, until reality set in. Then it became hazardous on the streets, with pedestrians slipping on sidewalks, and the cold did a lot more than nip at your nose – it threatened your extremities and sometimes you wondered if you’d ever warm up.
‘Great for the Inn though.’ Holly had peeled off her coat, her gloves, an extra sweater and hung it all in the entrance lobby on the available hooks there for guests to use. ‘I’ll make sure I get some photos from across the street, this place covered in snow.’
‘Don’t you have professional photographers to do that for the magazine?’
‘We do but I’m also a keen photographer. It’s what I’d do if I ever changed career.’
‘Is that likely?’
‘Probably not. I enjoy my job for the most part. I can’t be bothered to change.’
Darcy checked her watch. ‘Rupert will have your dinner ready by six.’
‘That’s fantastic. Could you fix me a drink before then? I need something. And why don’t you join me? I could use the company. I’ve been trawling the streets, had two meetings and I need to unwind.’
Smiling, Darcy handed her the drinks menu. ‘Maybe after your dinner.’ It would give them a chance to talk and Darcy knew she had to just jump on in and tell Holly what she’d overheard. From the conversation they were having, she didn’t think Holly had any intention of bad-mouthing the Inn. But then you never knew, did you?
‘Deal. I’ll hold you to that.’
Holly ordered a Manhattan – when in Rome, she said – and Darcy added another log to the fire. She suspected this room would be used by guests all evening, especially those who didn’t have much of a view from their apartment and wanted to watch the snow coming down outside. While Holly was having her dinner Darcy found availability in a hotel in Brooklyn for Ian and Martha. It was smaller than the Inn but priced similarly and at short notice an absolute steal at Christmas. She said she’d confirm the booking in the morning when she’d checked with Ian and Martha. She didn’t want to disturb any of them tonight, because it appeared that family had enough going on already.
Holly raved about the food when she came through from the dining room after her dinner. ‘Your chef is brilliant. The chicken tonight was to die for.’
‘I’m glad you approve,’ smiled Darcy. ‘Same again?’ She went behind the bar counter.
‘Yes please, and tell me you’re joining me.’
‘I will, but mine will be a virgin cocktail. I have so much to do, and I’m still on duty remember.’
‘Oh come on, you’re a professional whether you’ve had a drink or not, and you’ll be keeping one of your guests very happy if you join me. Come on, what do you say?’
Darcy shook her head. ‘Just imagine my cocktail is the real thing.’
‘Not even for me, a customer who could tell a hundred other people how she stayed at a beautiful Inn in New York, where the fire crackles and the hostess makes you feel so very welcome?’
Darcy grinned. ‘You’re very persuasive when you want to be, but it’ll have to be another time.’ She fixed two Manhattans – one virgin – and took both drinks over to the sofa in front of the fire.
She handed Holly her cocktail and put the other down on the side table. ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you.’
‘Sounds serious. You’re not throwing me out are you? Only I don’t think I’ll be able to find anywhere else at short notice and I don’t ever want to go back to that apartment.’
Darcy grinned. ‘I’m not throwing you out. It’s about the party, the other night.’
‘The one I went to?’
‘Yes. At The Plaza.’
‘Wait, how did you know it was The Plaza? I don’t remember mentioning it.’
‘I was there.’
‘You were? Then you should’ve said hello! I was a plus one for a friend.’ She looked intrigued. ‘Were you with someone from the company? Who was it? There are some gorgeous men there – loaded, most of them, and some of them boring as hell, but a few good ones too.’ Holly’s personality was as fiery as her auburn hair, and Darcy only hoped it wouldn’t be unleashed in that article. At least not in a bad way.
‘I was with someone. It doesn’t matter who. It’s the conversation I overheard that I need to talk to you about.’
Eyes wide, Holly took another sip of her cocktail. ‘This sounds like gossip. And I love gossip.’
It was exactly what Darcy had been afraid of. ‘I was in the restrooms when I heard you.’
‘It’s something I said?’ She looked worried, and put her glass down on the other side table.
‘More something someone said to you.’
‘OK.’ She drew the word out slowly, unsure whether she was going to be in trouble or not.
‘I heard someone telling you about this place, about me, about an email from a guest who said I was some kind of Cinderella, fussing and interfering.’
‘You heard that?’ Discomfited, she said, ‘I can’t imagine that was particularly pleasant.’
‘It wasn’t.’
‘Do you know, I once wrote short stories, before my time at the magazine?’ Darcy wasn’t sure where this was going. ‘They were reviewed frequently and mostly those reviews were complimentary. But some of them stank. What was it one reviewer said?’ She thought hard. ‘That was it. She, or he – I have no idea of the gender from the username – said: “This woman
doesn’t have a creative bone in her body. Her stories are dull, she should get a real job.” Nice, huh?’
‘Jeez,’ Darcy exhaled. ‘They didn’t hold back, did they?’
‘I know, not nice to read. That was my first bad review and it always stuck with me. But do you know what I did?’
‘What?’
‘I went and looked at reviews for some of the best pieces of writing around and they all, without exception, had scathing reviews amongst the many good ones. That woman at The Plaza? Well, if I could review her and her behaviour that night I would say, ‘This woman should learn to stop drinking champagne after the tenth glass and should probably go to a good lingerie store because she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath that gold dress and there was way too much side cleavage on display.’’
Darcy burst out laughing.
‘See, it’s one opinion, Darcy. She was ranting on and on about this email but, to be honest, it all went way over my head. I knew you already, I was staying here, I hadn’t had the experience that this person had clearly had.’
Darcy sipped her cocktail, nervous about confiding in a guest, a woman who had the power to slate the Inglenook Inn should she see fit. And if she talked to her about her personal life, was that overstepping the mark? Surely it was backing up the claim that the manager at the Inn wasn’t professional.
‘Do you know who the guest was?’ Holly asked.
Darcy hesitated. ‘I do.’
‘Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?’
Darcy only hesitated for a moment. She was so comfortable talking to Holly that it all came flooding out: how she’d known the guest on the top floor in London, how she’d put up the Christmas tree, how he’d despised her for doing so and then seen the light, how they’d gone on a date and it was all going well until she’d found out he’d sent that email.
‘Whoa.’ Holly downed the rest of her cocktail. ‘I’m gonna need another of these.’
Darcy did the honours and when she was sitting down, said, ‘He’s a man with a lot of issues. He’s apologised over and over.’
‘It sounds as though he regrets saying what he did.’
‘Maybe he does, but it’s too much drama. I don’t need drama.’
‘Hey, you’re preaching to the converted. I don’t do drama either, at least not when it comes to my own life. Now other people’s lives…perhaps I do, but not my own. I can see why you’re backing away.’
‘But…’ She knew there was more.
Holly grinned conspiratorially. ‘But…he’s hot! I’ve seen him a couple of times. Mmm…Mmm…’
Darcy shook her head and laughed. ‘That simple, huh?’
‘I didn’t say it was simple, but he’s hot. Fact?’
‘Fact.’
‘And he likes you, a lot, I’d say.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because men like him could get any woman they wanted. That party at The Plaza was filled with trophy wives, wives who are way more attractive than their husbands. Sorry, I tell it like it is,’ she said when Darcy refused to comment. ‘Your Myles—’
‘He’s not my Myles.’
‘Oh he is, you take my word for it. Your Myles could get a woman like that any day of the week, and there he is putting himself on the line and dating not only his landlady, but also a woman who pissed him off right from the start by putting a Christmas tree in his apartment. How dare you, by the way? What a terrible thing to do,’ she admonished in good humour. ‘Putting up a tree for someone, taking the time to try and make their Christmas as magical as you believe it can be.’
Her sarcasm made Darcy laugh hard. ‘I still shouldn’t have done it.’
Holly got more serious. ‘Maybe not, but I think if he didn’t really like you then he would’ve yelled at you, sent that email, and never bothered to pass the time of day with you again. But, he put himself out on a limb, I’m guessing, and asked you out. And he’s apologised more than once, you say, which means he’s not giving up quietly. I’ve had a few relationships in my time and one thing I’ve learnt is that men, outside of the boardroom, don’t tend to revel in conflict. It would’ve taken a lot of courage and dedication to keep on at you for forgiveness.’
Darcy watched the snow falling gently from the sky outside, creating a winter wonderland. She could just about make out a light coating on top of some of the car roofs, the railings on the brownstone on the opposite side of the street. ‘I’ve seen women rely on men and it’s one hell of a risk.’ There, she’d said it.
‘So have I, believe me. My sister for one.’
‘Really?’
‘She met a man who travels all over the world. She left her corporate job because she didn’t want to live as a single woman even though she was married. It was a huge sacrifice. At the time I thought she was crazy, but when I’m not being so cynical, the romantic in me says that sometimes, for the right person, it’s worth it.’
‘I’m not arguing with that.’ Darcy’s cocktail glass was empty and she toyed with the stem between her fingers. ‘But when it all goes pear-shaped, what is a woman left with? I decided early on that I wasn’t going to ever let it happen to me.’
‘Shit happens everywhere. Well it does.’ She refused to accept Darcy’s protestations. ‘Whether you’re in a relationship or not. My sister, she’s beyond happy. It’s sickening really. She’s never looked back and wished she’d kept her job. Then you’ve got my best friend, Lynne. Now her husband gave up his job to look after the kids while she was the one with the career, and that suits them just fine. Both these women could fall flat on their faces, or they could end up having the happiest of lives. There’s nothing to say your life won’t go to shit even if you’re on your own, completely independent.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘You know I am.’
‘I’m not sure you’ve made me feel any better.’
‘I’m sorry, I tend to tell it how it is. Which is exactly what I shall do when it’s time for the article write-up. The Inglenook Inn will be reviewed from my point of view. I’ll talk about the wonderful, honest, down-to-earth manager called Cinderella,’ she teased. ‘Just kidding, I’ll call you something else. I’ll tell readers about the way the brownstone looks from the street, like any other façade, but once you step inside there’s a glowing welcome with a cosy fireplace. I’ll talk about how if you stay at Christmas you can have a real tree in your own apartment, I’ll rave about the food from your brilliant chef, and your Christmas lunch.’ She patted Darcy’s hand. ‘How does that sound?’
‘It sounds good. I can try to get you a tree if you’d like.’
‘For my apartment? No. I’d rather socialise in here with this beautiful tree. I think I need other people around me. It’s what Christmas is about after all.’
‘You’re right.’ Darcy understood. ‘I’m glad you’re settling in here.’
‘And I’m glad I bumped into you.’ She smiled. ‘Give the man a chance, eh?’
Darcy let out a long breath. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Haven’t you ever done anything you regret? It’s Christmas, and everyone deserves a second chance at this time of the year.’ She took her glass and Darcy’s over to the bar.
‘That’s my job,’ said Darcy, getting up to follow her as the O’Sullivans came bustling through the front door, colourful coats jostling together as they chatted amongst themselves.
‘I’ll say goodnight,’ Holly smiled. ‘I’m going upstairs to spoil myself with a bubble bath.’
After she left Darcy chatted with the boys from upstairs as they speculated as to whether Santa Claus would realise they weren’t at home this Christmas.
Rupert came through from the kitchen. ‘All done for the night,’ he said as the O’Sullivans warmed themselves in front of the fire. ‘And I’ve left you a chicken dinner.’
‘You’re a star, I’m famished.’ Darcy hadn’t realised it’d been so long since she’d eaten, what with Ian, Martha an
d Myles and the complications that went with them, and then her conversation with Holly. ‘Did you get my note about extras for Christmas lunch?’
‘I did. Now stop worrying. We’re all set.’
‘That’s a relief, thank you. Are you OK?’ He looked exhausted.
‘Just tired, that’s all. Early night for me and I’ll see you in the morning. We’re almost there,’ he smiled. ‘Christmas at the Inglenook Inn for the first time, and it’s going to be wonderful.’
Darcy crossed her third finger over her index finger on each hand. ‘I really hope so, Rupert.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Myles
Myles finished up in the shower. He pulled on a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt and a navy cable-knit sweater. He was emotionally spent from everything with Darcy, and his dad, and seeing his mum had almost been too much. But he couldn’t delay this any longer. It was time to face them both.
He went down a floor, along the corridor to the end, and knocked at the apartment his dad and now also his mum were staying in. His heart pounded as he waited for someone to answer and he berated himself for letting loose with the accusations earlier. It was no way to start mending the broken relationship between them all. He’d begun to make some headway with his dad and being here in a different country, in accommodation that was neutral territory, he just hoped the same would happen with his mum.
It was she who opened the door. She stepped forwards and hugged him – which wasn’t out of the ordinary. She’d probably been too scared to do it earlier.
‘Come in, Myles.’ She stood back to let him in. The apartment was small in dimensions compared to his own but it was functional, with a bedroom off to the right, a living area with a television and a kitchenette.
‘When did you get in?’ he asked her, as his dad switched off the TV. By the sounds of it he had the news on. Myles could imagine them both sitting there, waiting and waiting for him to come down, not knowing what would happen when he did.
‘My flight arrived early afternoon and I got in a cab and came straight here. We were going to order takeaway tonight; have you eaten?’
Snowflakes and Mistletoe at the Inglenook Inn (New York Ever After, Book 2) Page 22