Grand Hotel

by Mary Davis

  ❧

  Dillon watched Aimee leave. He wished he were the one leaving with her instead of someone else. Maybe if he hadn’t scorned her when she asked to be kissed, she wouldn’t be so eager to have fun with Jovan all day.

  He wanted to kiss her. He had wanted to kiss her for a long time. But his plans. . .his goals. She was not a part of them. He touched the chair she’d been sitting in. He liked having her next to him. Maybe he needed to alter his plans, make new one-, five-, and ten-year plans. Lord, show me what to do.

  He turned his attention back to the lecture as the speaker was talking about the renovation in 1897 when the west wing was extended.

  That was it! They hadn’t found the treasure in any of the end rooms because they weren’t the end rooms in 1887 when the hotel was built. The west wing was added ten years later.

  He started to stand. He wanted to tell her. He lowered himself back down. She was out with Pretty-Boy. Why hadn’t he told her not to spend the day with him? And if she still wanted to go, he could have told her he didn’t want her to go—that he didn’t want her off with another man.

  But he hadn’t. He had his goals. . .his plans. Aimee wasn’t part of his plans.

  At least, not yet.

  ❧

  Aimee sat in one of the white wicker rockers lining the porch. Jove’s coat was tucked around her. Jove had pulled up another chair next to hers and sat down. They looked out across the hotel grounds and the water to the long expanse of bridge in front of the fading sunset. Though the colors were intense, she just couldn’t seem to enjoy the view.

  She wished Dillon were the one next to her. But this wasn’t a place she’d ever be with Dillon, because Dillon’s plans didn’t afford him the time to come and sit. And then there was always the problem of him avoiding the porch at sunset. If his mom was able to look down from heaven and see him, she would probably be sad that he couldn’t bring himself to do that one simple thing for her.

  Aimee had drifted through the day with Jove—nothing planned, just deciding what to do next and doing it. She missed Dillon’s schedules, knowing just where he’d be and when. Jove lived like her, from one moment to the next. Not knowing what was around the corner. Sometimes it was fun to see what surprise awaited her. But there were those few times. . . Not all surprises were good. She heard Dillon’s frustrated words: I don’t like surprises. Surprises are never good.

  Sometimes they’re good, Dillon.

  She tried her best to turn the bad things around and see God’s hand in them. Like yesterday when Dillon didn’t kiss her. Then, today, giving her a way out from being around him in awkward silence as they both thought about the scene she had created. Clearly God didn’t want her and Dillon to develop a relationship.

  He had sat in the lecture like she didn’t exist—like he’d rather not have her there. So, between Jove being annoying and Dillon being cold, she had left. Dillon’s aloofness toward her was the hardest to bear.

  The colors drained from the western sky, and the light faded. She should call it a night and send Jove on his way. But she wanted to enjoy the quiet of the night for a few more minutes.

  Jove took her hand and caressed his thumb across her fingers. “I know what you said this morning, but. . .I could order a bottle of champagne, and we could drink it in my room.”

  She pulled her hand free. “I’ll pass.”

  “Didn’t you have a good time with me today?”

  “Yes, I did.” But that was beside the point.

  “Then do you mind if I ask why you’re turning me down now?”

  She stood to go inside. “You can ask whatever you want. It doesn’t mean I have to answer.”

  He stood, as well. “Is it something I did or said? I thought I was the perfect gentleman all day.”

  And he was proud of it. Like that could make her change all of her convictions. “I’m not the kind of girl who goes to a hotel room with a guy. And I don’t drink.”

  “I sort of figured that, but I had to try. I just thought after a day together you might change your mind.”

  Not for him or any other guy. Not for his money or his good looks or his charm. “I think it’s time for me to go. Thank you for a wonderful day.”

  “I’ll get a carriage and take you home.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I was supposed to check in with my boss before the end of the day.” But she’d been avoiding Dillon, didn’t want to feel his cold bristle.

  “I think you missed that.”

  “He works late. If he’s not still there, I’ll leave him a note.” She hoped he wasn’t there and she could just leave a note.

  Once inside the lobby, Jovan said, “You have made my stay on the island enjoyable for a change, even though you have resisted my charms.”

  She removed his coat and handed it to him. “I’m nothing special. You could have had fun with anyone.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “An old-fashioned kiss for an old-fashioned girl.”

  Would it be rude to wipe the back of her hand on her skirt? Jove was nice, but she’d had quite enough of his charm for one day—possibly enough for a lifetime. He just wasn’t the type of guy who interested her. Everything about him was right on the surface; there was no depth.

  The next time—if there was a next time—she was asked to keep Jovan, or any other VIP, company for the day, she’d quit first before accepting. It just wasn’t worth the hassle.

  ❧

  Dillon watched from behind the front desk as Jovan kissed Aimee’s hand and she smiled back at him. His insides twisted. What was this he was feeling? Protectiveness? Jealousy?

  Aimee headed toward their office. He stayed behind the counter. She hadn’t seen him there. After a minute, he headed for their office, as well. Aimee sat at his desk writing on a sticky note.

  He stepped inside. “Oh, you’re back. Did you have a nice day?”

  “Actually I did. Jove was very pleasant.”

  Jove? That’s not what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that she thought he was a leech and was glad he was leaving tomorrow. He was glad the man was leaving.

  “We took a horse-and-buggy ride around the island, and—”

  “I’m glad you had a nice time, but I have a couple more things to get done before tomorrow.” He wasn’t in the mood to hear about her grand day. To hear about Jove.

  “I was just writing you a note to say I’m sorry to have missed you.” She pulled off the little yellow sheet and threw it away. “Have you been working all day?”

  “Of course. It’s what I do.” Actually he had been distracted since she left the lecture with Jovan. If he’d been able to concentrate for more than a five-minute span and string two coherent thoughts together, he could have been done early and home relaxing, planning the next steps to attain his professional goals. And possibly personal ones, as well. But all he could think about was Aimee with another man.

  “What can I do to help?”

  Leave me to my misery. “Nothing. I’ve got it covered.”

  Her shoulders slumped slightly. “Then I guess I’ll go home.”

  Was she disappointed he wasn’t going to work her into the ground? He stood. “Let me call you a taxi.”

  As they waited just inside the lobby, Aimee asked, “How was the lecture? I really wanted to hear it.”

  “Why didn’t you stay then?” He couldn’t resist the question.

  “Jove didn’t want to be there.”

  And what Jove wants, Jove gets.

  He put Aimee into the taxi when it arrived and waited for it to leave.

  The renovation! He forgot to tell her about the renovation. He would just have to tell her tomorrow. There was nothing either one of them could do about it tonight. The rooms were probably occupied. He took a deep breath. And would be until the end of the festival. It would be better not to tempt her with the information until they could get into those rooms.

  He went back to his o
ffice and dug around in his files until he found a copied drawing of the original hotel floor plan. He took it out and studied it on all the floors. Once he figured out which rooms were the right ones, he wrote them down. He went back to his office and looked the rooms up on the computer, and as he suspected, they were all occupied. When the first one became available, he’d tell Aimee about his revelation.

  Eleven

  The next day, Aimee sneaked in a side door of the hotel and wound her way through the service halls to get to their office. She didn’t want to risk running into Jove and him pulling her into spending any more time with him. He had been nice, but she’d rather spend time with Dillon, even if he was in a prickly mood, than wondering when Jove was going to drop another hint involving the two of them alone.

  She walked into the office and sat at her workstation, but Dillon wasn’t there. Instead, a pink box with a red ribbon sat on her desk. Was this from Dillon? She took the small card attached and read it. Sweet candy for a sweet lady. Until the next time. Jove

  Did there have to be a next time? Could she possibly be rendered invisible? She lifted the lid of the box. Fudge. That much sugar would make her blow up like a whale. And the variety of flavors all looked like they contained nuts. A whale with a bad rash. She’d pass on that one.

  She dropped the card off the side of her desk to the trash on her way out and took the box of sweets to the staff lounge. She wrote “Enjoy” on a piece of paper and leaned it against the box. It would be history in under an hour. Sorry, Jove. Even if I wasn’t allergic, I don’t want to accept gifts from you.

  When she walked back into the office, Dillon was at his desk with his head in his hands, rubbing his temples.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Raging headache.” He looked up with squinted eyes. A pair of glasses lay on the desk in front of him. “I’ll be fine.”

  She hated wearing her glasses. “Your eyes aren’t lubricated enough to wear your contacts, are they?”

  “It would feel better to poke a stick in my eye.”

  She grimaced. “I know the feeling.” She walked around behind his chair and started kneading his shoulders.

  “Oh. You don’t have to do that, but it feels wonderful.”

  “Didn’t you sleep well?” She worked at the knots in his shoulders.

  “I was working late, then couldn’t sleep.”

  “You were probably too wound up from working late to sleep.”

  “Probably.” He tipped his head forward.

  As she rubbed his neck, she could feel the tension loosening. He really needed to learn to relax.

  They both turned at the knock on the open door.

  “Dill—” Steve spun around and headed back out the door before he even got one foot inside.

  “Steve,” Dillon called after him.

  “I’ll come back in five,” Steve’s voice filtered in through the doorway.

  Dillon stood. “I’ll be right back.” He walked out the door.

  She threw up her hands. And Steve wins out over having your shoulders rubbed by me.

  She slumped into her chair and rested her chin in her hands. “He said he’d come back.”

  ❧

  Dillon knocked on Steve’s office door. “What did you need?”

  Steve looked up with a lopsided grin. “Nothing worth running after me for. Go back. We’ll talk later.”

  “Can we talk now?”

  Steve spread his hands. “Sure. If you’d rather be with me than Aimee.”

  Not really, but he needed to talk. He closed Steve’s door. He didn’t want Aimee happening by and overhearing their conversation. He pulled the flat card from his coat pocket and handed it to Steve. “That was on my office floor when I came in.”

  Steve read Jove’s touching little note to Aimee. “What did Aimee say about it?”

  “She doesn’t know I have it.”

  Steve handed it back. “Ask her.”

  “She’ll think I was snooping in her things.” He put it back into his pocket.

  “Tell her the truth. You found it on the floor. Hand it back to her and see what she says.”

  “I already know what she’ll say. She had a wonderful time yesterday with him.”

  Steve shook his head. “Why’d you let her go with him in the first place?”

  “It wasn’t my decision.”

  “You told her not to go, and she still went with him?”

  If he could turn back the clock, he would insist she not go. “I didn’t exactly tell her she couldn’t go.”

  “Why not?”

  “I wanted her to turn him down on her own.”

  “Boom. Backfired on you.”

  “She saw it as a hotel courtesy. She wasn’t going with him as a date or anything.”

  “Well, I’m sure Pretty-Boy saw it as a date.” Steve leaned forward on his desk. “You need to do some serious romancing. Dinner, flowers, your own box of sweets. It doesn’t really matter. You just need to show her you’re thinking about her.”

  “I don’t have time for all that. I have work—”

  “Chuck the work plan. If you’re serious about her, show her you care.”

  He couldn’t chuck his plan. He needed the plan to hold on to.

  “What would she like? What would be uniquely special to her?” Steve asked.

  Besides tearing apart the hotel to find a treasure long gone? “I don’t know.”

  ❧

  On her way back to the office from running an in-house errand for Dillon, Aimee was waylaid by Steve. “I’m cashing in on that rain check. Dinner tonight at Claire’s Café.”

  “Steve.”

  He held up his hands. “I know. It’s not like a date or anything. I promise I’m not trying to put the moves on you. Go with me as a friend, as Dillon’s friend. I need some advice on girls.”

  “You promise.”

  He made an X on his chest. “Promise.”

  She studied him a moment. “Dutch?” She didn’t want any misunderstandings.

  He hesitated, then said, “Agreed.”

  Aimee prayed several times during the day about whether or not she should keep her “date” with Steve. He’d promised not to try anything, and she would like to put a good foot forward for the Lord. The Lord had not given her any indication that she should cancel on Steve.

  She didn’t have a lot of options in her wardrobe. Besides her three dresses, she had her capris and a pair of jeans. She ruled out the dresses right away. She didn’t want to look like she was dressing up for him, and he said the place was a café. After sunset, the air cooled quickly. She might get cold in her capris. So she had decided on her jeans with a tie-dyed T-shirt and her white cardigan. Now she sat across the table from Steve, who also wore jeans. They had ordered their food, and their beverages had arrived.

  “Okay, Steve, what’s your dilemma?” She took a sip of her soda.

  “I’m trying to figure what women like. For instance, flowers or candy?”

  “You asked me here to find out if some girl would like flowers or candy?”

  “Not any specific girl. Just in general.”

  What was Steve fishing for? “It would depend on the girl. Some prefer flowers; others have a sweet tooth.”

  He leaned forward on the table. “Which do you prefer?”

  “What’s this all about?”

  “I honestly want to know. Candy or flowers?” He held his hands out from him with his palms up, as if weighing the two options.

  “If you send me either, I’ll send them back to you.”

  “I promise this is not like that.”

  “Flowers.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not much into candy. My grandma is diabetic so there was never any around. She put the fear of sugar into me lest I end up diabetic like her.”

  “That’s interesting. I always assumed all women liked both equally. But there could be a good reason to choose one over the other. You’re not allergic to flowers or a
nything like that.”

  “Being on Mackinac Island in June during the Lilac Festival wouldn’t be a good place to be then.”

  “Right. So what’s your favorite flower? Roses?”

  “Steve, what are you fishing for?”

  “Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”

  Would the trade in information be worth it? “Carnations. I love their smell, and they look lacy. Your turn.”

  He nodded. “Interesting. I’m trying to figure out what makes a girl choose a guy like Jovan Musser over. . .let’s say, a guy like me or Dillon?”

  She waited for their server to set down their food and leave before she answered. “To be honest, I don’t know why a girl would. Jove is paper-thin. What you see is what you get. He was very nice and acted every bit the gentleman, but other than money and good looks, there’s not much else there.” She poured ketchup into the side of her basket of fish and chips.

  “So you wouldn’t go for the Casanova type?” He picked up his thick burger and took a bite.

  “I like to know there is more to a guy than what is on the surface.” She dipped a fry into the ketchup and ate it.

  “Good.”

  Why did that seem to make him happy?

  His dark eyes pinned her. “So, if you don’t care about either looks or money, what is the number one thing you look for in a guy?”

  Was this an opening? “I wouldn’t seriously date a guy who didn’t have a personal relationship with the Lord.”

  He furrowed his brow in confusion.

  “A Christian.” She broke one of her battered fish fillets in half. Steam rose from it, so she set it back into the basket to cool and grabbed another fry.

  “Oh.” His expression opened back up. “I’ve dated Christian girls before. Why is it so important to you to only date a Christian guy?”

  “There is a level of closeness you can only get with another Christian. It’s hard to explain. You really can’t understand it until you experience it. It’s the Jesus in me fellowshipping with the Jesus in someone else.”

  A smile stretched his mouth. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “As a Christian, everything in life has a deeper, richer meaning. There is so much more to life than what you see around you.”