Christmas at Prescott Inn

by Cathryn Parry

  He nodded, biting his lip to keep from smiling. Skater drama. He knew that well.

  “I’m glad you and Emilie are getting along, Nell. But remember, nothing is set in stone yet. She and the other skaters are only here for a short while.” And just because he and Emilie were getting along well again didn’t mean that all had been mended between them. He still hadn’t—and couldn’t—share with her or her boss that the inn’s future had been on shaky legs. He was waiting for the final okay from his investors. It would come, he hoped...

  And he did have hope. Hope for a successful investors’ meeting, and hope for a future relationship with Emilie. Yes, he’d caught her infectious enthusiasm—that was the important thing. Maybe they really could pull this off, and in the process, maybe he could reconnect with Emilie again.

  “Don’t worry, I promise to be discreet about you and Emilie.” Nell tugged on his arm. “Come on. Let’s go to the party.”

  “Yes. Of course. Just let me save my data and shut down the laptop.”

  “I’ll wait.” Nell sighed, fiddling with a package on his desk that he’d received in the mail but hadn’t opened. Jason’s Christmas stocking.

  “Did you know, Uncle, that Jason’s mother took some time off from work for the party?”

  “Yes, Emilie told me.” And he hadn’t even asked how much this party was costing. Nope, he hadn’t asked, and that made him proud.

  “And that reminds me of another thing.” Nell pressed a slip of note paper into his hand. “Martha asked me to give this to you. The women’s shelter in town called just before you got in. Martha said they asked if you have any more vacant rooms to house another family for Christmas? They have an emergency with a mom with three little kids. She’s in a homeless facility at the moment, but they want to move her to a place with a private room for the family.”

  Those poor kids. “I’ll have to take it up with my investors,” Nathan said softly.

  His numbers were so fantastic—he was sure he could convince Rob and the other investors to expand the program. “Don’t worry, Nell. I’ll handle it.”

  He shut the cover of his laptop and then stood. “But I should probably return the shelter’s call now, before their office closes. I want to include their numbers in the report.”

  “Will you come down to the party first?” Nell asked.

  “No, it’ll take just a moment. You go on down. I’ll join you when I’m finished with the call. Tell Emilie I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

  “Okay. I know those kids are important to you.” Nell waved. “Don’t be too long, though.” She opened the door and left him to his call.

  But just as the door closed, his phone rang. Nathan saw that it wasn’t the homeless shelter, but Rob. Jumping the gun on their meeting, Nathan supposed.

  Still, he needed to take the call.

  Nathan sat in his leather desk chair. He turned to face the back wall as he picked up the phone. “Rob, did you get my text about the increased bookings due to our publicity?”

  “Did I?” Rob chortled aloud. “I didn’t need to—everybody knows. This skating project of yours has been boon for us. A real godsend.”

  “Yes,” Nathan agreed, relaxing into the chair. “Then, while I have you in a good mood, let me make my pitch to house more local families in the west wing this Christmas.”

  “What? Oh, no,” Rob replied. “We can’t do that. Certainly not.”

  “Sure we can,” Nathan said. “At the meeting later, I’ll show you how well the numbers work. It’ll be easy to absorb the additional costs and we can—”

  “Slow down,” Rob interrupted. He made a clucking noise. Nathan could well imagine his principal investor sitting at his own desk in his bank downtown, one hand raking through his shock of white hair, the other hand tapping his desktop with nervous energy as he spoke. “I called to tell you my good news, Nathan. First, the meeting to review expenses is cancelled. There’s no need for it. Not only do I have a buyer interested in Prescott Inn—I’ve got two buyers interested, and they’re both bidding against each other, driving the price up every time I turn around.” He cackled again.

  Nathan’s blood ran cold.

  Buyers? “What do you mean? You said if we improved profits, then we would keep the inn open. Why is it even on the market?”

  “It wasn’t. But you did such a bang-up job bringing in money and attention due to the skaters that word went out in the industry. I’ve been swamped with calls from out-of-state big investment groups and hotel chains interested in hearing about the property.”

  “So tell them no,” Nathan snapped.

  “Nathan, by selling, the investors could make a nice amount of money. It makes business sense to say yes. And the price they’re offering is too darn good to turn down. I’ve already spoken to the other three stakeholders, and they’ve all agreed. It’s a clear majority vote. The sale will go through, and we’re shutting Prescott Inn down the day after Christmas. I called to tell you to cease all spending and start wrapping things up.”

  “Wrapping things up?” Nathan repeated incredulously. He couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing. “What’s the benefit of shutting down immediately? Let’s slow down and think this out.”

  “Nathan, the buyers are anxious for a locked-in agreement. This sale will happen fast. They’re planning a rebranding, which means a shutdown for renovations.”

  A shutdown. He and Emilie and Nell and everyone else on the team had partnered so well together that they’d unintentionally hurt themselves in the process?

  Nathan stood, the blow hitting him as if physical. “Rob...we’ve made commitments to people. I can’t renege on them now.”

  “We’re well aware of your commitments. We’ve reviewed the agreements, and we won’t be in breach of contract. We’ve voted, Nathan. It’s done. Prepare to shut it all down or we’ll have someone do it for you.”

  Nathan paced before the window, running his hands through his hair. This was impossible. “You can’t just do that!”

  “Contractually, we can. It’s business, Nathan. Nothing personal. Again, no additional expenditures beginning today.”

  “And the kids who are already here? Where do they go?”

  “It’s up to the new owners whether they stay on or not.”

  “Who are the new owners?”

  “I can’t say yet.” Rob coughed. “The negotiations are delicate, and it’s moving fast, but at this time, it’s still confidential. You’ll know who the owners are as soon as the deal is closed.”

  “And the skaters?” he demanded. “What are they supposed to do?”

  “As I said, I’ve reviewed the contracts,” Rob said. “We don’t owe them anything—we can cut bait whenever we wish.”

  “So, they just skate their shows as we’re shutting everything down? I don’t understand.”

  “That’s not our problem.”

  “Sure, it is. And we have guests coming, expecting them to perform! What about our responsibility to the guests?”

  “As long as you make sure the skaters perform and the production company doesn’t pull the plug, all will be well. I really don’t see the problem. Publicity-wise, we’ve promised them a place until Christmas, and we’ve delivered. We’re still willing to cover their room and board until Christmas—that’s fine. And the cruise line covers the salaries. If Lynn Bladewell balks about anything, just tell her it’s in her best interest to keep the skaters here and performing until the close date. Whatever you have to say to her, just do it—but don’t mention anything about the sale until I give you the go-ahead that it’s finalized. You’re part of this community. You’re loyal to us. You know what you’re supposed to do.”

  “But...what about my job at Prescott Inn?”

  “The hope is that the inn will reopen eventually under the new owners and keep some people employed. We’ll just have t
o wait and see what the new buyers want to do with the property. I can’t read the tea leaves for you on that one. But rest assured, as a minor investor, you’ll get a return for your investment on the sale.”

  Nathan’s mind just went blank. He couldn’t think of a counterargument to make. Ironically, it wasn’t his job he was worried about. It was the homeless kids. And...Emilie. He knew that Rob, from a business perspective, was right—they had no obligation to the skaters. But he wasn’t sure that Emilie would understand that.

  She’ll never forgive me if I make her look bad in front of Lynn, and set her skaters out on the street. She needs this opportunity in so many ways. It’s her dream to be a choreographer.

  And things had been going well between them! He’d been so hopeful for him and Emilie getting back together.

  “Rob, let me head over to your office now,” Nathan pleaded, trying to buy time. “We’ll sit and talk about this.”

  “I’m sorry, Nathan. The plans are set. As I said, the vote has been taken.”

  “Please just take the option on the skaters’ contract and sign them up for a few weeks salary in January. Throw them a bone. It’s their influence that’s gotten us this far.”

  “Nathan—”

  “As a friend, as a member of this community, I’m asking you for this one favor.”

  “I’m sorry, Nathan.” There was genuine regret in Rob’s voice.

  The line clicked off.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AT THREE O’CLOCK, Emilie faced the table full of beaming people and finally felt that things were going to work out.

  It was too bad that Nathan wasn’t here yet. Nell had assured her he would be down soon, just after he phoned the homeless shelter to fulfill more requests for kids to move in for Christmas.

  Emilie smiled as she thought how kind Nathan truly was. She would have postponed the cake-cutting, waiting for him, but Jason’s mom was on a tight schedule and couldn’t delay any longer. Nathan would surely understand.

  Emilie picked up the birthday cake she’d ordered from the kitchen, its seven birthday candles already set ablaze, and then turned and pushed through the door with her shoulder.

  “Happy birthday to you!” Nine of her skaters, with the exception of Sergei, who was mysteriously missing—a big part of the drama she’d been dealing with earlier—sang aloud to Jason. His little face beaming, he blew out the candles. He still hadn’t said much, though. Prescott sat in the chair beside him. Somebody had gotten Prescott a plastic dish filled with tuna water, and the cat was slurping to his heart’s content, his pink tongue darting in and out.

  “It must be against all the rules to have a cat in a public dining room,” Rosie whispered beside Emilie.

  “It is.” How changed Nathan seemed. Lately he’d been giving and generous. Emilie went over to Jason’s mom, who was hugging her son.

  “Hello, I’m Emilie. It’s good to finally meet you.” Jason’s mom was short and plump, with kind, pretty eyes and a shy manner.

  “I’m Maria. Thank you for making my son happy.” Maria was so soft-spoken that Emilie had to lean closer to hear her. She touched Maria’s sleeve, a uniform for a cleaning service, its company logo on the back.

  “It’s my pleasure. And if there’s any help I can give you and Jason, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “He loves watching you skate after school,” Maria said.

  “We love having him with us. We watch out for him, too—we make sure he’s bundled up in warm clothing. Gary has lent him his hat and a long scarf.”

  “Thank you so much.” Maria’s eyes grew wet. “I would be with my son more if I could.”

  “I know.” Emilie’s heart was breaking for her. She could only imagine just how sad and desperate Maria must feel.

  “May I ask you how long you’ve been staying at Prescott Inn?” Emilie asked, settling into a chair beside her.

  “We’ve been here just for the last month,” Maria said in a hesitant voice. “Before that, we were in a shelter.” Maria blushed. “We will be okay,” she said firmly. “Mr. Prescott has been generous to house us here.” She pressed Jason closer to her breast. “And the reason we don’t have so many warm clothes is because we’re not used to cold weather. We’re from Florida.”

  That surprised Emilie. But it explained what she’d observed. “I’m from Florida, as well. I can relate to having issues with the cold. I’ve been a bit homesick for the Florida sun, myself.”

  “My sister lives up here,” Maria confided. “She found me work nearby. We stayed with her family for a time, but it got to be too much. Her husband asked us to leave. And Jason wasn’t doing well. I’d like us to get a place of our own, but rents are so high... The county homeless shelter helped for a time, but they’re crowded and we couldn’t stay long. Mr. Prescott has been a savior.”

  Nathan. After his revelations yesterday, she was no longer surprised.

  “He is a wonderful man. And I help him as I can. I keep the room clean myself,” Maria said with pride. “Our room has a microwave and a small refrigerator. I cook our meals.”

  “How did you end up at Prescott Inn?” Emilie asked, curious.

  “We were sleeping in my car in a parking lot when the lady from the county found us one day. I was so frightened at first, especially when the police came, but...they gave us a room at Prescott Inn. I’m not sure, but I believe Mr. Prescott arranged it.”

  Emilie bit her lip and nodded. Each day revealed more of Nathan’s good character.

  Jason tugged on his mother’s sleeve. Maria bent her ear to listen to him. She nodded and then smiled at Emilie. “If you will excuse me, I’m going to get my son another piece of his birthday cake, and then I have to leave to get back to work. Thank you again, Emilie.”

  “It was our pleasure.” Emilie watched the mother and son walk hesitantly to the table where Claude presided over the cake, serving utensil in hand, and Rosie flirted outrageously at Claude’s whispered attentions.

  Uh-oh. As she’d noted earlier, trouble was brewing there. But Emilie was monitoring it and Julie hadn’t seemed to notice what was going on. Instead, Sergei was the one Emilie was worried about at present. He was the only one who hadn’t come out of his room, and usually Sergei was all about the sweets.

  Strange there were so many sweets tonight—more than usual. She’d only ordered a single birthday cake from Claude!

  Emilie went over to Katya, who, as she so often did, was bent over, petting Prescott the cat and crooning softly to him in Russian. It was actually strange, but Emilie got the feeling that the cat really was bilingual.

  Emilie whispered in Katya’s ear. “Is everything all right with Sergei?”

  “Am I his keeper?” Katya answered tartly.

  Guess not. “Well...aren’t we all keepers for each other? We’re a team, are we not?”

  Katya straightened. “Please. You should worry about Lynette and Curtis, not Sergei.”

  “Why?”

  “They are in a fight.”

  “Since when?”

  “Yesterday, during practice. Did you not notice?”

  Emilie’s heart sank. No, she hadn’t noticed. But she’d been distracted at practice yesterday, what with Nathan being present. Before that, there had been the emergency clinic trip with Gary, and before that...

  Emilie lifted her hands in bewilderment. “Help me out, please, Katya. What exactly is going on?”

  “They are breaking up.”

  “I didn’t know they were together.” When had that happened?

  “It was only for a very short time.” Katya bent to pick up Prescott and then curled the striped-gray tabby cat expertly inside the crook of her arm. “They are so young.”

  Yes. Lynette was just eighteen. Curtis was nineteen, and they were both away from home for the first time. Emilie felt guilty that she hadn’t bee
n paying better attention to them.

  Emilie scoured the room until she found Lynette sitting behind a couch, hidden from the world. The young woman was crying silently, her eyes red, her lips trembling. Curtis was suddenly nowhere to be found.

  Emilie sat down beside her. “What happened?”

  “Can you please not partner me with Curtis in the sleigh bells number?” Lynette burst into fresh tears.

  Emilie took her hand. “We’re professionals,” she said gently.

  “You are. And I am. But he’s not!”

  “What happened?”

  “I thought he liked me,” she wailed, “but now he won’t talk to me.”

  Emilie drew the young woman close. “I know it hurts.” Breakups were horrible.

  “How would you know? You’re never with anyone, Emilie!”

  Emilie just shook her head. If only she could describe to the young skater how hard it had been for Emilie at first, here again with Nathan. Her ex. How confusing it had been.

  “You don’t see my pain because...well, when I said to be a professional, Lynette, what I meant is that you have to always behave in your role as an entertainer. That means you smile even if you feel like crying, and you do so because people count on you.”

  Lynette looked downcast. “Maybe we’re not all as perfect as you,” she muttered.

  “I’m not perfect, and I’m not counseling you to be that way. Far from it. I just think it’s best to...cry when the children aren’t around to see you.”

  “Seriously?” Lynette sniffled. “That’s your advice? To fake it? Is that who you are, Ice Mom? A faker?”

  Her words took Emilie aback. She’d never thought of it that way.

  “But our job is to help people like Jason—to lift their spirits,” Emilie pressed, diverting the subject. “He’s so sad, he doesn’t talk very much. Anyone can see that. Can you imagine being him? Seven years old. Not even showing excitement that Christmas is coming...?”

  “If I lose Curtis, then I don’t care if Christmas is coming, either!”

  Emilie held Lynette’s hand. That was all she could do. She could feel the pain in Lynette’s heart as if it were her own, and right now, Lynette didn’t want to talk or to reason about other ways of looking at her breakup. Lynette just wanted comfort and agreement. Emilie could give that, too. “Room with me tonight, Lynette. All right?”