Blush Duo - Marriage Under the Mistletoe & The Christmas Inn

by Helen Lacey

  “That’s their business, not mine. What’s the family’s problem with me selling to Shane?”

  Scott scooped up the agreement Marnie had carelessly left lying on the desk and took his time reading it before he answered. “We want to be sure you’re being paid fair market value for the business and this building. And that Shane hasn’t slipped in a noncompetition clause that would stop you from working as a hairdresser once you leave here,” he muttered. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing at the page.

  “What?” she asked, refusing to glance at the page.

  “You can’t work in Boston as a hairdresser?”

  “We agreed it was only fair. My client list and the goodwill I’ve built up in the city are part of what he’s buying beyond the physical assets,” she said, exasperated with Scott’s attitude.

  “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 JULIE CRAWFORD, 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.”

  “Chris
tmas 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.”

  * * *

  LONG 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.