The Christmas Inn (3 page)

“Marnie, I’m your brother, and I don’t want—”

“Scott, will you leave it alone?” she said, struggling to
remain calm. After all, her brother did have his good qualities; the problem was
she couldn’t remember any of them at the moment.

Still clutching the agreement, Scott leaned against the ancient
file cabinet in the corner. “Okay, you take this to your lawyer, and you sign
it. What happens the day after you sign? What are you going to do with your
life?”

“Run away to the south seas? Go on safari for a few weeks?”

“Get serious. You must have a plan.”

“I’m working on that. Please tell Mom not to worry,” she said,
thankful that he was still concentrating on the agreement and couldn’t see the
uncertainty in her eyes. Her family always looked for reasons to freak out over
what she was doing and how she was doing it. She understood their concern in the
beginning. Two major surgeries she’d had to undergo, one when she was eight to
fix a heart defect and one when she had a serious car accident fifteen years
ago, had given her family reason to worry. But not anymore.

Scott placed the document on the desk before turning his
intense gaze on her. “Tell you what. Angus McAndrew, the CEO of Advantage, you
remember him, don’t you?”

Scott once worked for Advantage Corporation in their PR
department. “He’s the guy who got me in to see that superrenowned orthopedic
surgeon in New York after my car accident.”

“Our family owes Angus a lot. I’m convinced that without his
help, you wouldn’t have had such a complete recovery.” He smiled down at her,
warmth showing in his eyes. “Even though I left his company to start my own
business, he and I have stayed in touch. He has a property in the Berkshires,
The Mirabel Inn, and he’s going to put it up for sale. But before he does, he
needs a business survey of the region, which one of my staff is working on, and
he wants to know that the inn has no operational issues that could derail the
sale. He’s asked me to hire a mystery guest right away as he has a potential
buyer for the inn and he wants to make the kind of pitch the purchaser can’t
resist. You’ll work the three days prior to Christmas, all expenses paid. All
you have to do is fill out a bunch of forms. Shouldn’t be too stressful,” he
said.

Ever since her car accident fifteen years ago and her
difficulties with her rehabilitation, her family had kept a close eye on her. In
those first months after the accident, she had desperately needed their help and
support. Now, years later, it felt more like they simply wanted to run her life.
“Why do it right before Christmas? A mystery guest? What does that mean?”

“Angus is a perfectionist, and he leaves nothing to chance.
He’s also very driven, and when he wants something, he goes after it. If he
wants to sell this property he’ll do it Christmas Day if he has to. As for being
a mystery guest, it means you behave like a regular guest, and the management
doesn’t know who you are or what you’re doing there. Meanwhile, you collect
information for me on how the inn functions, based on questionnaires the company
will provide. Before you leave here, I’ll give you the questionnaires so you can
read them over to know what aspects of the inn to evaluate. Once you’ve
completed an area, such as the spa or the bar, for instance, you enter your
responses online, and then email them to me on a daily basis. I’ll take care of
the rest. I’ll be in touch with you each day to see how you’re making out with
the survey, and we’ll take it from there.”

“I don’t like sneaking around, trying to get proof that someone
isn’t doing something right. Besides, why would I want to go north where it’s
cold and I don’t know anyone?”

“Because you need time to think before you sign this
agreement.”

“I can sign my agreement without going off alone to someplace
cold first,” she said, feeling she’d got him on this one. “I don’t need to go
away to think about my future.”

“Well, I need you to think about my future and the future
success of my company. Angus McAndrew is offering my firm a chance to do work
for him, based on how well I handle this project, and how quickly. I need your
help.”

She blinked. “
My
help? Why me? You
must have dozens of people you could order to go to the Berkshires.”

He peered at his hands for a couple of minutes. “Peanut, you’re
the one person I know who has the expertise to evaluate the inn’s hotel
operations and its spa on such short notice.”

Scott must really need her help if he was using the old
nickname he’d given her when she was a kid with a leaky heart valve. He’d been
so sweet to her back then. She had to admit that with his drive and
encouragement her recovery had actually been kind of pleasant. He’d been so good
to her, so full of fun ideas to help her forget that she’d just been through
major surgery. She owed it to Scott to help him.

“Okay,” she said “But there are conditions.”

“Name them.” He eyed his cell phone.

If she stayed at this inn, she’d be free of all the family
pressures involved in getting ready for Christmas. That alone would be
fantastic. But there was another equally attractive reason to do it. Despite
what she’d said to Scott, she did need to escape for a little while. She’d put
so much effort into proving that she could run a successful business that she’d
neglected herself in the process. Thanks to her brother she was being handed an
opportunity to relax and evaluate her life.

“I want you to tell Mom and the rest of the family that you’ve
sent me on an urgent assignment, and I won’t be back until Christmas.”

“What? Mom won’t believe that.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

With an exaggerated sigh, he said, “Yeah, but I was hoping
you’d do the explaining.”

“I’m working for you—you can deliver the news. All I want is a
few days of peace and quiet away from the McLaughlan family, and that includes
Mom. Agreed?”

He squinted at her. “You’re sure that’s all?”

“If you can pull it off.”

“Of course I can.”

“You’re going to keep Mom, Dad, Liam, Gordon and Alex off my
case for the entire four days that I’m away doing this job for you?” she
asked.

“I will, but you’d better turn off your cell phone or I can’t
be held responsible.”

“I’ll manage my cell phone if you promise me that Mom won’t
follow me to the inn.”

“Nothing would drag Mom away from her kitchen this close to
Christmas.” He patted her on the head. “I promise to keep everyone out of your
life for four full days.”

“Which four days?”

“Okay, you’ll arrive there on December 21st, and do your survey
work December 22nd, 23rd and 24th, getting back here as early as you can on the
24th.”

“That close to Christmas?”

Scott shrugged. “Afraid so.”

“Angus McAndrew doesn’t celebrate Christmas?”

“He does, but it seems that this deal is very important to him,
and he hopes to have it to bed by the New Year. That means he needs the results
Christmas week.”

“If you say so.”

“I do, and I wouldn’t be asking you to do this, but I need
someone I can trust completely.”

He brother trusted her and needed her, and she really owed him
a lot. “Okay, I’ll go to your precious inn.”

“And you have to keep everything confidential. You can’t tell
anyone at the inn that you’re doing this, and under no circumstances are you to
tell anyone that the inn is about to be sold. Understood?”

She gave him a snappy salute. “Aye, Captain.”

He wrapped her in a bear hug. “Thanks, Peanut.”

“And there’s something else.”

He looked at her as if she were a flawed business proposal.
“Let’s hear it.”

“Stop calling me Peanut.”

His jaw worked, he frowned and rubbed his cheek. “Won’t happen
again.”

CHAPTER TWO

A
WEEK
LATER
J
ULIE
C
RAWFORD
, Marnie’s best friend and Lady Gaga look-alike, sat on the
foot of the bed while Marnie packed her bag for the trip to Wakesfield. “What do
I tell your mother when she calls? I really like her, and this doesn’t seem
fair.”

Marnie rubbed her forehead in consternation. “Probably not, but
I don’t know what else to do. It’s like this every Christmas. I’ve joked about
running away from home at Christmas so many times, only this time it’s going to
be true.”

“Can you talk to her about how you feel?”

“I’ve tried, but each time, I end up giving in, mostly because
I don’t have a reason not to go along with her plans. This year I have, and I
need to get away for a bit. This whole negotiation thing has been a lot more
stressful that I expected.”

“Still…”

“Tell her that you can’t reach me, which will be true since I’m
turning off my cell, letting my calls go to voice mail, and only turning it on
when I need it.”

“You’re really not going to talk to her?” Julie gaped.

Marnie sighed. “Don’t worry. I’ll call her eventually.”

“So while you’re off for a restful few days in the mountains,
I’m left to deal with Gina. If she tells me one more time about her matching
wedding band to go with her square cut diamond—” Julie pulled a thick blond curl
from behind her ear and examined it for split ends. “She’s already acting like
she owns the place and you haven’t even signed the agreement yet.”

Hearing the despair in her friend’s voice, Marnie sat down next
to Julie. “I know how hard it is for you to watch what’s going on with
Shane.”

“I know you do.” She gave Marnie a huge hug. “Why did I have to
fall for a man who is making a total fool of himself over a woman who—” Julie
grimaced. “You know, when I first came to Total Elegance, the first time I saw
him, I really believed I’d met the one person for me. And look at me now,
sitting here with you feeling like I’ve lost everything.” She tucked her chin
into her neck, hiding her face.

“You haven’t lost everything,” Marnie said, wishing she could
ease her friend’s heartache.

“I have! Meeting Shane made me believe in love at first sight.
I felt so alive, so thrilled to be around him…and now I feel like a walking
cliché. What’s even worse, he’s about to marry a woman who is so completely
wrong for him,” she wailed.

“Love at first sight went out with the dinosaurs.”

“Like you’d know.” Julie snorted.

“I’ve seen firsthand what it does to people.”

“You mean Shane?”

She sighed. “Julie, Shane is getting married, and you and I may
be upset with him, but there’s nothing either of us can do about it. You’re
going to have to get used to working with Gina, or you’re going to have to leave
the salon.”

“If she keeps pissing people off and the staff and clientele
make tracks, Shane won’t have anything left of what you and he built together.
Won’t you feel bad if that happens?”

“Of course I will, but I can’t change how Shane lives his life.
Neither can you.”

“Promise me you won’t sign until you come back? Please?”

She and Julie had spent many late nights over bottles of wine
discussing Gina and Shane. Julie had wanted to intervene, but Marnie had managed
to convince her to stay out of her partner’s personal life.

“I can’t make that promise. I’ve agreed to sell, but he’s
allowed me a few days to reconsider should I need it. I don’t think I will, but
it never hurts to be cautious. Meanwhile, you have to face the fact that nothing
will change Shane’s mind about Gina,” she said gently.

Tears shimmered in Julie’s eyes. “He can’t marry her,
Marnie.”

“Julie, we’ve been over this.”

Julie gave a disgusted sniff, checked her manicure and tilted
her chin toward the mirror on the dresser beside the bed. She got up, smoothing
her fiery-red top over her narrow hips. “On a whole other topic, our landlord
called before you got home, and he has agreed to the estimates for cleaning up
the flood damage in the basement.”

Marnie and Julie had clothes and personal belongings destroyed
by water damage a couple of weeks ago when a pipe broke in the basement of the
house they rented. “That’s great. We can shop for new shoes and purses now.”

“Guess so.” Julie tucked one booted leg under her as she
settled back on the bed.

Marnie pulled her one black dress out of the closet. “Darn!
That reminds me. I don’t have a decent pair of heels to take with me.”

“You’re telling me you don’t have one pair of high heels you
could wear with a black dress?”

“None. Remember, I’d been reorganizing the closets when the
flood happened—all my shoes were on the floor in the basement, along with boxes
of my winter clothes.” She stuck her head into the bottom of the closet and
reappeared with a pair of three-inch heels. “All I have is this pair of
canary-yellow ones, and I don’t have time to shop for a new pair.”

“Not given your inability to make a decision where clothes are
concerned. Now, if it were me, I could buy ten pairs in an afternoon. Guess
you’ll have to make a fashion statement with your yellow ones. I wonder if
you’ll have to dress up for dinner?”

“I went on the internet to see how formal this place is. There
was no mention of a dress code, but the photos of the dining room are pretty
classy,” she said, worrying that she might not have the right clothes. So much
of her wardrobe involved casual pants and tops for work, or jeans.

“You’ll be fine.”

“I want to look good, but not draw attention to myself. It
would make my job a whole lot more difficult if people began to notice me. If
they started paying attention to me they might wonder why I was checking things
out.”

“You wouldn’t be that obvious.” Julie got up again and
sauntered over to the chair next to the window. “So, how does this mystery-guest
thing work?”

“Scott made the reservation for me and guaranteed it with his
credit card. All I have to do is show up, enjoy every service the inn has to
offer and fill out a bunch of questionnaires. That’s it.”

“Sounds simple enough. Hope it doesn’t snow too much while
you’re there. You might not make it home for Christmas.”

“Christmas is the last thing on my mind.” Marnie bundled her
curling iron, makeup and hair products into a bag and packed them in her
suitcase. She gave the room a quick once-over. “Well, I guess that pretty well
does it.”

Julie peered over the edge of the suitcase. “Underwear?”

“Oh, yeah.” Marnie scooped her undergarments out of her dresser
drawers, dropping her pink bustier onto the floor in her haste.

“Wow! Are you up to something on the man front without telling
me? Planning on meeting a hunky skier, perhaps?”

“You never know. I’m going to pamper myself, and if there’s an
available male, you just never know what might happen. I haven’t had a decent
date in months, and now that I won’t be logging tons of time at the salon, a
decent date just went to number one on my list of priorities.” She stuffed the
bustier and the rest of her underwear in her suitcase and closed the zipper.

“Well, here’s hoping that none of the guys you meet up there in
the Berkshires bear the faintest resemblance to Mario.” Julie arched her
eyebrows in warning.

“So I’m lousy at picking men.”

“No, you’ve got to stop letting them pick you. There’s a
difference. As I’ve said before you’ve got to be assertive and pick the best
apple from the dating tree, not the duds.”

Marnie smiled out of the corner of her mouth and reached her
arms out to her friend. “Wish me luck on all fronts.”

“Absolutely.” Julie jumped up, towering over Marnie as she
hugged her. “Call me as soon as you have a free minute and let me know what the
man situation is like. I might take a couple of days off from the delightful
repartee with Gina the Hun and join you so I can look for a mountain man of my
own.”

* * *

L
ONG
HOURS
LATER
AND
NEARLY
out of gas, Marnie crested a
hill, following the road as it trailed along a stream that wound through the
countryside like a velvet scarf. To the right, in the middle of a sweep of land
framed by pine trees, she spotted a sign in navy blue edged with gold announcing
The Mirabel Inn. Beyond the sign, a long driveway led up a gentle slope to the
inn.

Marnie had never seen anything quite so beautiful and majestic
in her whole life. She pulled to a stop on the side of the road, captivated by
the sight. Two large wings extended back from either side of the inn’s front
entranceway and peaked roofs accented the elegant structure sparkling in the
afternoon sun. The Mirabel Inn looked like something out of a fairy tale. Its
generous expanse of windows glittered in the light and the wide verandas wrapped
around two sides. The eaves adorned with intricately carved wood emphasized the
inn’s Victorian feel.

Her research revealed that The Mirabel Inn had once been the
private residence of a lumber baron who owned most of the land in this part of
the valley. It stood as a magnificent testimonial to his wealth and position in
the community during the early years of development in this area of the
state.

When Marnie was a child, she’d dreamed of living in just such a
place, a dream that was immediately tempered by the reality that only the very
rich could afford a house like this. But she could still dream, and she now had
days to experience what living in a house like this would be like.

She started along the winding drive leading to the entrance
with its tall white columns framing a beautiful front door, festooned with the
largest Christmas wreath she’d ever seen, and set off by inlaid glass panes on
either side of the door. She passed a towering fir tree, whose brightly colored
Christmas lights added to the ambience, before entering a section of the
driveway flanked by sprawling rock gardens. She could only imagine the types of
flowering plants and shrubs that the gardens would hold in the summer. At the
moment they were mulched and ready for winter, the bark chips peeking through a
light blanket of snow.

Why would Scott’s client want a mystery guest to assess this
inn? There wasn’t a shingle missing off the roof, or a bit of peeling paint
anywhere to be seen.

But Marnie’s only concern was getting a few questionnaires
filled out while she relaxed by the fireplace in her room with a hot toddy. Add
to that a soaker tub where she could soothe her sore muscles after a nice hike
along some of the trails she’d read about in the brochure. Absolute heaven.

She parked in front of the door and got out. Clutching Scott’s
emailed directions along with her confirmation number, she slung her purse over
her shoulder, and crossed the stone driveway toward the entrance. Her hand was
on the huge brass doorknob when a little boy raced around the corner of the inn
toward her, screaming in excitement as he grabbed the back of her jacket. A
small dog that resembled a barrel with legs circled her, its fervent bark adding
to the pandemonium.

“Ethan, come back here!” a man, following in pursuit of the
child, yelled.

Marnie looked down into the bluest, roundest eyes she’d ever
seen, and couldn’t help smiling. The child had what looked like tomato sauce on
his cheeks and a grin that made him impossible to resist. “Well, hello there,”
she said, kneeling down.

“Sorry,” the man said, coming to a stop in front of her. “My
son believes this inn is his private play area, and he’s a little too young to
get the message that not everyone who arrives here wants to play with him.” He
gathered the boy in his arms.

“And I take it the dog has the same idea,” she said, still
kneeling as she patted the animal, which immediately lay down, rolled over and
offered his belly for a rub. “What’s his name?”

“Henry. He adopted us a year ago.” The man’s smile reached into
an untapped part of her heart, creating a sense of longing so unfamiliar it
stole her breath, followed by the sensation that they’d met before. But they
hadn’t. She would have remembered a man who looked this good.

Trying to regain her composure, she focused her attention on
the little boy. “He’s so cute,” she said, groaning inwardly at her use of such a
cliché, but surely she could be forgiven for being so predictable. The man was
beyond handsome. Sure, there were lots of movie stars who looked good—thanks to
special lighting and camera work—but this man was every woman’s dream
personified. He was tall, taller than any of her brothers, and he appeared very
at ease with himself. His jet-black hair and sea-green eyes—haunted
eyes—completed the package.

Get a grip! He’s got a son. And he’s
probably married.

But Marnie couldn’t help marveling at her luck. First, the most
beautiful place she’d ever seen was to be her home for the next few days, and
now this…

“Can I help you?” the man asked, giving her the full benefit of
his sexy smile as he hoisted his son onto his shoulders, much to the delight of
the child, who promptly clutched his father’s forehead and grinned down at
Marnie.

“I’m expected. I have a reservation.”

His eyes darkened, and the smile faded from his face as he
glanced at her car and back at her. “You have a reservation here?”

“Yes.” She held out her brother’s email, with her confirmation
number scribbled along the bottom. “I have a reservation for The Mirabel Inn,
starting tonight and checking out on the twenty-fourth.”

“Is your…husband, I mean your spouse…partner…here?”
Consternation knit his brows together.

Marnie didn’t know how to respond to such an outrageous
question. All she wanted was to check in and relax before dinner. “Do you have
to have a husband to stay here?” she asked in her you’ve-got-to-be-kidding
tone.