“Where’s Gigi this morning?”
“Lately, she doesn’t make it downstairs until mid-morning,” Zelda said.
Gigi had been talking about retiring and turning the place over to Zelda. When she did, her mother would need to hire someone at least part-time to help her. Especially on days like this. The Forsyth Galloway was not a one-woman operation.
“You look tired,” Elle said as she took a tray of blueberry muffins off the cart and set them on the buffet. “Not in a bad way. You’re as beautiful as always. But I worry about you with this load and cutting back staff. Are you holding up okay?”
“Oh, honey, I’m fine. This place is just...” Zelda’s words trailed off and her brow furrowed again. “It’s fine.”
She smiled, but Elle detected a certain note in her voice. She decided to take another tactic.
“Then, if everything here is fine and you’re tired, that must mean you’re keeping secrets.” Elle laughed. “Is there a man who’s keeping you up late? Because something’s keeping you up.”
She wanted to say something to lighten the mood, but she was half-serious.
Zelda snorted good-naturedly and smiled. “Heavens no! Are you kidding? I have no time to meet men. At the end of the day, I go up to my room and fall asleep in front of the television every night because I’m too tired to move.”
Zelda had suffered an acrimonious divorce several years ago and hadn’t found anyone else. Elle understood why her mom would be gun-shy. The split had been painful. Elle hadn’t exactly been gung ho to fall in love again after Roger. So, she understood her mom’s hesitation.
“Darn, I was hoping there was a man,” Elle joked.
Zelda ignored her. “Doesn’t the food smell good? Looks like Moriah outdid herself this morning.” Zelda lowered a pan of mini quiche into one of the chafing dishes. Elle did the same with the biscuits and a pan of bacon. Since the inn didn’t have a restaurant and only offered a continental breakfast to guests, Moriah West of the Chat Noir Café, a fixture in downtown Savannah, catered most of the events at the Forsyth that required substantial food.
Zelda picked up the tongs and helped herself to a quiche before Elle could cover the dish with a silver lid.
“Taste test,” Zelda said before taking a bite. “We need to make sure the food is as good as it looks. In fact, why don’t you fix yourself a plate and go in the kitchen and have breakfast? I can handle things in here.”
“You are changing the subject, mother.” Elle put her hands on her hips and raised her right eyebrow in a challenge. “I hear they have speed dating every Tuesday night at Jack’s downtown. Why not give it a try?”
Zelda shook her head and cocked a brow, mirroring her daughter’s expression. “I’ve got too much on my plate with everything that’s going on with the inn. But bless your heart, you seem to be interested. Why don’t you go ahead and do it? You can tell me all about it afterward.”
“Since I’m only visiting, it wouldn’t do me any good, but I’ll go if you’ll go. I’ll be your wing-woman. We could ask Gigi to hold down the fort.”
Being from out of town was a valid excuse. There was no sense in meeting men who lived in Savannah when she was in Atlanta. Then she wondered how long it would be before she was ready to put herself out there again. There’d been one guy, Heath Jordan, a high school chemistry teacher—sort of the mad scientist type. They’d dated for about six weeks, but then Elle had started feeling claustrophobic and called things off. There was no sense in hanging on if she saw no future. It was ironic that she couldn’t find chemistry with a chemistry teacher. But she hadn’t. In fact, the thought of sleeping with him—and running out of excuses why she wouldn’t—was what had finally driven her away.
Chemistry was important.
And darn if her traitorous thoughts didn’t rip right back to Daniel Quindlin and his broad shoulders. Her cheeks burned at the memory of seeing him in the park.
Okay, so the wedding—or the almost wedding—had been years ago. She wanted to believe she’d moved on, and until she’d seen Daniel, she’d believed she had. She wasn’t pining over Roger. They hadn’t talked in years. But if she was completely honest with herself, she still struggled with one burning question. Why had Daniel been so hell-bent on talking Roger out of marrying her? Even to the point that he’d nudged him to run out on her at the altar?
What had possessed Daniel to be so mean? But when she’d pressed Roger for an explanation the one time they’d talked after the wedding, he’d told her he simply didn’t love her enough to spend the rest of his life with her. That single stinging sentence was all she needed to know. She convinced herself that she didn’t need Daniel’s motive for pushing him. The bottom line was that Roger was the one who had made the choice to walk. As bitter as it was to swallow, it was probably the biggest favor anyone had ever done her.
That didn’t mean she had to like Daniel Quindlin or let him taint her return to Savannah. Roger was long gone, a mere footnote in the annals of her life. The last she’d heard, he was in California. His parents had sold their home in Savannah and moved. There was no chance that she’d run into anyone from the Hathaway clan. While she was home, she’d steer clear of the places she might run into Daniel. As if they’d frequent the same places.
Inwardly, she rolled her eyes.
“Did you roll your eyes at me?” Zelda asked.
“What? No!” Ugh, had she actually made that face? “I have a lot on my mind. If I did, it wasn’t directed at you. I’m sorry if you thought it was.”
“Oh, honey, I know you’ve got a lot to sort out with your job. It sounds like everything will be okay. I’m sure it will sort itself out in the long run. We sure could use your help and we might even be able to pay you a little bit. I’m sure we could scare up the funds.”
“No, Mom, I’m fine financially. I have savings. I’m sure it will be fine. But you know what? While I’m waiting for my reassignment, I could stay and help you and Gigi out. It seems like you could use an extra set of hands.”
Zelda squealed and hugged Elle. “My middle baby girl is going to be home for the holidays. You know there is nothing in the world that makes me happier than having my girls home and I’m not sure Jane can get away from the restaurant long enough to come home this year. That’s peak season for her. Oh, Elle, you couldn’t give me a better Christmas present than being here. Just wait until I tell your Gigi. However, I’ll pass on that speed dating. You and your sister Kate should go. The best thing you could do for yourself, missy, would be to start having fun again. The sooner the better.”
No. Not the sooner the better. Zelda must’ve read it in her eyes, because she had a look on her face.
“What?” Elle asked. “Now you’re the one making faces.”
Zelda sighed and shook her head.
She thought about telling Zelda that she’d seen Daniel Quindlin in the park and asking her how long he’d been back in Savannah, but she didn’t want to talk about him.
“Who’s meeting here today?” Elle asked.
“The Savannah Women’s Society. It’s their monthly meeting. Only this one is special.”
Ah, the esteemed Society Ladies, as everyone called them. She should’ve known.
For as far back as Elizabeth could remember, the Society Ladies had had a standing date at the Forsyth. They even had a dainty hand-painted announcement posted at the foot of the veranda steps, in fancy script: The Savannah Women’s Society meets here the first Saturday of every month except January and July. All are welcome.
“Really? How so?”
Zelda’s eyes lit up. “Well, the hot topic on the agenda is the group’s annual benefit. You know how they award a grant every year to fund a rehabilitation project in Savannah’s historical district? Guess who is this year’s worthy recipient?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I couldn’t begin to guess.”
&
nbsp; “This year it’s none other than the Forsyth Galloway Inn.” Zelda clapped her hands.
“Seriously? I didn’t know they funded businesses or private residences. I thought they’d stick to not-for-profits.”
“There are only so many statues and monuments that need fixing. So they expanded to include all properties on the historical registry. The work we want to do here is not just cosmetic. We’re still doing repairs after that tree uprooted and landed on the roof during the last hurricane.”
“Mom, the hurricane was several years ago. I thought insurance covered the damage. Why haven’t you fixed it?”
“Well, insurance did give us some money for repairs, but not nearly enough. Plus, you know how it is when you fix up one thing—it makes everything else look tired and shabby. It’s like a domino chain. We fixed the leak, but there wasn’t enough money to replace the wallpaper and refinish the floors where water warped the boards and discolored the finish. Oh, well, there’s a whole long list of things that we need to do around here, and you know how expensive repairs and renovations are. That’s why we’ve been tightening our belts and doing a lot of the day-to-day upkeep ourselves. We applied for the Women’s Society grant and we got it. The only problem is your Gigi and I have completely different visions of how the remodel should go. I’ll have to tell you all about it later, after the meeting. We could use your voice of reason. But right now we need to finish getting things ready because this is the meeting when they’re awarding the check. It’s kind of a big deal.”
“I’m so glad I could be here,” Elle said, setting a bowl of fruit salad next to a tiered tray of scones and Danish pastries. “I hope they enjoy the breakfast.”
“And to that end, I need to go check on the coffee. I just brewed some fresh. Want a cup?”
“No, thanks, I had a cup before I came down,” Elizabeth said as she stepped back to admire their buffet handiwork. Everything was in its place. All they needed to do was fill the urn with coffee, and they’d be ready to welcome their guests.
After her mother left, Elizabeth glanced around the room, and saw for the first time its tired floral wallpaper and yellowing white wainscoting. In her mind’s eye, the place had always been lovely. Now that Zelda had mentioned it, Elle could see what her mother meant about the decor being a little tired and in need of some love. In its day, the Forsyth had been the crowning glory of the neighborhood. Now the old girl resembled a grand dame who was showing her age. Yet, despite her wrinkles and sags, she still stood regal and proud, beloved by those like Elle, who cherished her timeless grace.
Maybe the Forsyth needed a little reno-Botox. Nothing invasive or reconstructive. Because the place was beautiful as she stood, wrinkles and all.
Elle’s gaze snared the photos in silver frames on the wall and fireplace mantel. There were pictures of every ancestor who had lived here and managed the inn before her Gigi and mother. Someday she and her sisters would have their photos up there, too.
She took a deep breath and let the warmth of the memory of all those generations of independent, successful businesswomen—her people—wash over her. Coming home had been the right thing to do. It was a privilege to have such a birthright, a place like this to come home to when she needed to figure things out. She was happy to have the chance to help her mother and Gigi. After all, the best way to forget her problems was to be of service to someone else.
With a renewed sense of purpose, she left the dining room on a mission to fold the linens and deliver fresh towels to the Gibbons. She didn’t get very far, because the first person she saw when she stepped out of the dining room was Daniel Quindlin.
Her heart did a sudden flip in her chest and the sensation had her hand fluttering to her throat.
He was standing in the lobby at the front desk, looking freshly showered and dressed after his run through the park. A crop of stubble had accumulated on his face, but not enough to be a beard.
Seeing him again up close made her remember that he was tall. How was it that today he seemed bigger and more menacing than she’d remembered? Maybe the sight of him there, invading her sanctuary, was making her feel fragile and vulnerable.
Well, she needed to get over it fast because she’d never considered herself breakable a single day in her life. She hadn’t broken when Roger had left her at the altar, and she didn’t intend to start now.
But Daniel loomed, dark and dangerous, like he’d come for her.
Self-preservation told her to turn around and hightail it back into the dining room, because she didn’t want to talk to him. But it was too late; he’d already seen her.
Crap. She may or may not have uttered the oath out loud. She didn’t care if she had. The only thing worse than seeing Daniel in the park this morning was getting a visit from the devil himself. He may have tried to steal her dignity, but he wasn’t going to rob her of the comfort of coming home.
Chapter Two
“It’s really you,” Daniel said.
Elizabeth Clark raised her chin in that superior good-girl way she’d perfected when they were in high school.
“Were you expecting someone else?” Elle asked.
She was still sassy. And good God almighty, she was even more gorgeous than the last time he’d seen her standing there in that big white dress after Roger Hathaway had walked away from the best thing that would happen to his sorry life.
Since he’d seen her on the balcony, looking sexy and sleep rumpled, Elle had tamed her long blond hair back into a ponytail. That sweater she wore touched every curve in just the right place and made him wish he could, too.
“I was expecting you,” he said. “I saw you this morning. I thought you waved at me.”
She squinted at him and her nostrils flared, as if she smelled something as she looked down her perfect little nose at him. Her attitude made him want her more.
“I didn’t realize you were in town until I saw you this morning up there on your balcony looking like Juliet.” Since she was already rolling her eyes, he stopped himself before he offered to stand in as her Romeo. Besides, Romeo and Juliet died. Clearly, they weren’t good for each other. “Don’t you live in Atlanta now?”
“I didn’t realize you were keeping track of me, Daniel.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not.”
He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back, but her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink that matched her sweater.
“You just happen to know I’m living in Atlanta, but you’re not keeping track. I see.” She crossed her arms and a dainty hint of cleavage winked at him. He locked gazes with her to force his eyes to stay in respectable territory.
“I have no idea what you’ve been up to these days,” she added. “I didn’t know that you were back in town.”
Her tone suggested she didn’t care what he’d been up to or when he’d gotten back into town. He hadn’t left Savannah under the best circumstances. And then there was the wedding-day incident, which she’d made perfectly clear she blamed on him. It was no wonder that she was surprised to see him. He’d always prided himself on bringing the element of surprise.
For the most part, Elle hadn’t changed. Except that she was even prettier, but he wondered if that beauty came from an air of being a bit more self-possessed and worldly than she’d been. She wasn’t a tough chick, but it seemed like she wouldn’t put up with anyone’s crap. Back in the day when she’d been with Roger, she was naive. That guy had a way of manipulating situations to make girlfriends believe he was faithful, parents think he was the Second Coming and friends eager to do his bidding.
Now Elle seemed sassier and maybe even just this side of jaded. Even though she’d been the quintessential good girl in high school—the cheerleader, the homecoming queen, the honor student, the artist—he’d always sensed a passionate side to her, lying dormant like a sleeping volcano that was waiting for the right man to stoke it. The thoug
ht of being the one to make the untouchable Elle Clark erupt was still his sexiest fantasy. And he had been around the block a few times.
“I live here now,” he said. “My grandmother passed away a couple of years ago. My brother, Aidan, and I inherited her house over on Barnard Street. We run our business out of it. I rebuilt her place for her...after the accident.”
The fire had been an accident. The unfortunate result of teenage boys with too much time on their hands and too little common sense to understand that certain fireworks were illegal for a reason. By the grace of God no one had been hurt, but his grandmother’s house had been destroyed. Hell, if anything good had come of it, it had been his wake-up call. It had been the catalyst that had knocked the chip off his shoulder and made him start getting his act together.
“I heard about your grandmother’s passing,” Elle said, sympathy softening her blue, blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded his thanks and shoved his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, wracking his brain for something else to say.
“How’s life in Atlanta?” he asked, wanting to keep the conversation going. Her blue eyes darkened a shade and she bit her full bottom lip. He wondered if her mouth still tasted as sweet as it had all those years ago—
“Life in Atlanta is fine, thank you.” Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. Her expression and clipped words hinted that might not be the truth...or maybe she’d read his mind. “Thanks for stopping by. May I help you with something else?”
A list of ways that she could help him—such as finishing what they’d started back in the day, before Roger horned in—pinged through his head, but good sense kept the request from falling off his tongue.
“Not today. I’m here to see your grandmother.” He nodded toward Wiladean Boudreau, who was descending the big staircase that spilled into the lobby. “But thanks, anyway. I’ll let you know if I think of something.”
“Oh.” He couldn’t tell if Elle was more surprised by his meeting with Wiladean or his comment. He hoped it was a little of both.
A Down-Home Savannah Christmas Page 3