“Which shows how inexperienced you are. With such a small staff, the hotel manager will not only need to help work the desk, but also see that all the smaller tasks get done, like tending to guest luggage, providing concierge duties and handling complaints.”
Her gaze didn’t falter. “All of which I’ll absolutely be able to manage.”
Stubborn woman. She obviously had a very high estimation of her abilities. “Do you honestly see yourself carting luggage and trunks up and down the stairs as required?” His conscience twinged as he admitted to himself that he would have trouble managing that himself with his injured leg. Too bad this place didn’t have elevators.
Her expression tightened. “I’d find a way to manage.”
He could see he’d need to act quickly in hiring a new desk clerk. “Perhaps a compromise is in order. We can divide up the front desk work between us—you take a portion of the hours and I take a portion.” He could make certain she was on duty during the less busy time, and he could keep an eye on her as well.
She studied him, and for a moment he thought she’d dig in her heels. Then her expression shifted.
“Very well. You obviously want me to prove myself and I can understand that. But in return, will you give me your word that this is just a first step. When a suitable time has elapsed, and I’ve proven myself capable, you will train me on the responsibilities of a hotel manager.”
“Agreed,” he said without hesitation. If she could handle the desk job—and he wasn’t convinced she could—then he’d humor her with the additional training.
And if she could eventually take care of some tasks, like managing small grievances that might pop up with the staff, it would free him to focus on the bigger picture.
After all, at the end of the day, Bartholomew Michelson would be hired as hotel manager when the time came to fill the position permanently. That was how it had to be.
Time to change the subject. “Do you have any thoughts on the decor?”
He wasn’t surprised when she nodded.
“I’ve actually been thinking about that quite a lot since I received Judge Madison’s letter. I want to draw on the word rose in the hotel’s name for inspiration.”
Seth winced as he had a sudden vision of pink splashes everywhere and overblown cabbage roses adorning every drape, carpet and bed covering in the place. “Before you go too far down that path, I should tell you I believe the place needs a new name.”
“What’s wrong with the current name? I’ve always thought Rose Palace has an elegant feel to it.”
“On the contrary, Rose Palace conjures up a gaudy, old-fashioned image. Something more understated and sophisticated would better fit the image of an establishment owned by Judge Arthur Madison.”
“Well, I think the name is charming, especially when you know the story behind it.”
What was with her and stories? Was it because her brother was a reporter? “And that story is?”
“From what I’ve heard, the man who built this place had a daughter named Rose who spent her life confined to a wheelchair. That man not only named this place for her, but also designed the entire first floor for her benefit.”
She waved a hand. “If you’ll notice, many of the decorative carvings and embellishments are at chair-rail height. There are no raised thresholds, and the owner’s suite is on the first floor.”
“Quite sentimental. But I doubt any future guests will know that story.” He ignored her outraged look. “We need a name that carries meaning today.”
She leaned back, her expression issuing a challenge. “I suppose you have something more appropriate in mind?”
“Simple is better. Naming it the Madison or the Madison House after its new owner strikes me as an appropriate choice.”
She wrinkled her nose, obviously unimpressed. “Is that really what Judge Madison wants?”
“He didn’t say one way or the other, but I can’t imagine he’d object. He usually goes with my recommendations on such matters.”
Her face suddenly lit up. “I know. Why don’t we call it the Madison Rose Hotel?”
It was his turn to be unimpressed. Why did she have to challenge him on every front? “The Madison Rose? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Actually, I think it has a nice ring to it. It embraces the hotel’s history while acknowledging the new ownership.” She stabbed a carrot with enthusiasm, obviously convinced she’d settled the matter.
He rubbed his jaw, deciding he should pick his battles. “As a compromise, I suppose it’s not a bad choice.”
She nodded as if his agreement had been a foregone conclusion, then glanced around the room. “I still think we can use the rose as a theme for our decor.”
That again. “If you’re thinking of using shades of red or pink throughout—”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Not to excess. Just touches here and there. And I plan to interlace it with spring green. Trust me, it will be tasteful.”
Seth withheld comment. Whether they were in accord on their definitions of tasteful remained to be seen.
* * *
While the conversation so far hadn’t gone as she’d hoped, Abigail decided there was reason to be optimistic. Mr. Reynolds seemed willing to keep an open mind. And since he wasn’t planning to hire someone to fill the hotel-manager position until the renovation neared completion, she had time to prove herself capable. If he himself trained her, how could he refuse to hire her when the time came?
The rest of the meal passed pleasantly enough. Once they’d finished, her companion pulled out his pocket watch and flicked it open.
“Do you have another appointment?” Abigail had hoped they’d have more time to discuss their working arrangement.
He put his watch away. “I’ve asked Mr. Crandall to have everyone gather in the kitchen at two o’clock for a short meeting.”
He stood, placing his napkin on the table. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s almost that time.”
She quickly stood as well. “I’ll join you.”
He raised a brow. “I assumed you already knew everyone.”
“I do. But I think we should introduce ourselves from the outset as partners. We can also let them know what to expect both during construction and after.”
He didn’t seem pleased with the idea, but he waved a hand toward the kitchen, indicating she should precede him.
Flashing her brightest smile, Abigail moved past him toward the kitchen. At least now he knew she intended to be a full partner in this undertaking.
People tended to treat her like a naive little girl to be patted on the head and humored. Hopefully, Mr. Reynolds would now take note that she was more than that.
If not, she’d just have to keep giving him reasons to take note.
Chapter Four
Abigail stepped into the kitchen to find all the staff assembled, looking as if they were about to meet their executioner.
She supposed it was natural for them to be concerned since they were exchanging one boss for another. Hopefully she and Mr. Reynolds would be able to set their minds at ease.
Since the construction began and the number of guests they were accommodating had been cut back, the hotel staff had also been reduced from six to three. In addition to Della Long, there was Ruby Mills, the maid, and Larry Scruggs, the night clerk.
Mr. Crandall stepped forward as soon as she and Mr. Reynolds entered the kitchen. “Folks, this is Mr. Seth Reynolds, who’s come here as the new owner’s representative to oversee all the construction work being done. And you all know Abigail Fulton. She’s going to be working with Mr. Reynolds while he’s here.”
The man then turned to the three staff members standing behind him and introduced each in turn. When he’d finished, Mr. Reynolds took control of the conversation.
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“I want to assure you that even though Mr. Crandall is leaving tomorrow, everything will remain as it is for the time being.”
Abigail noticed that the three employees were each reacting to Mr. Reynolds in their own way. All had obviously taken note of his cane. Larry couldn’t seem to meet the man’s gaze, Ruby appeared unable to tear her gaze away from the cane and Della appeared merely curious.
Mr. Reynolds continued speaking in the same businesslike manner, seeming not to notice anything amiss. “Over the course of the coming weeks, as we expand and redesign the interior of this hotel, we’ll also be looking into menu and service changes that will add to the overall atmosphere we wish to provide to our guests.”
Abigail almost rolled her eyes. Was he trying to reassure the staff or make them more anxious? “Not that there’s anything wrong with the meals and service you’ve been providing,” she said as he paused. “We merely want to try a different approach, something to go with the new look the hotel will have when the renovation is complete.”
He shot her an irritated look, then continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ll be talking individually with each of you over the coming days to discuss these changes and how they will affect your responsibilities. I’ll also answer any questions you have and work up a timetable.”
“In the meantime,” Abigail added, “we know you’ll continue to offer your usual high quality of service.” She turned to the former owner. “We also want to let you know that we wish you and your sister the medical cure you’re seeking in Chicago and that our prayers will be with you both.”
The rest of the staff nodded and offered their well wishes. Even Mr. Reynolds had the grace to do the same.
After that the meeting broke up. As they moved back to the lobby, Mr. Reynolds cut her a sideways glance. “I take it you don’t approve of the way I handled the staff.”
“Perhaps a bit more empathy in the way you deliver your information wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Mollycoddling employees rarely provides the desired results. They are Judge Madison’s employees, not our friends.”
“They can be both. And being kind isn’t the same as mollycoddling. Employees who feel valued are employees who will go the extra mile for you.”
“And just how many employees have you dealt with thus far?”
Her cheeks warmed. “None, of course. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to deal with people.”
“People are not the same as employees.”
Before she could respond, he changed the subject. “Would you be so good as to give me directions to the judge’s granddaughter’s home. I’d like to stop by sometime to pay my respects.”
“Actually, I can do better than that,” she said impulsively. “There’s a group of four families here in Turnabout who have connections to Judge Madison. Reggie Barr, the judge’s granddaughter, is naturally a part of that group. Tomorrow is Sunday and we all get together for lunch after the church service. Why don’t you come as my guest?”
He seemed slightly taken aback at her invitation. Surely he wasn’t so staid as to consider that too forward of her?
“I don’t know—”
She quickly interrupted his protest. “I assure you, you’d be most welcome. And in addition to the Barrs, you’d be meeting a number of well-respected citizens of Turnabout in a relaxed, informal setting. And that includes the rest of my family.”
And just maybe, once he got to know folks better, he’d drop some of his standoffish demeanor enough for them to become friends.
* * *
Seth didn’t consider intruding on an established social gathering with a room full of strangers, no matter how congenial, to be a relaxing pastime. But she was correct, this was a way to get himself into the social mix of the town in an expedient manner. “Very well, if you’re certain I wouldn’t be intruding, then I accept.”
“Wonderful. And I’ll be happy to accompany you to the service tomorrow as well. I’m in the choir, but you can sit with my brother and his family during the service.”
“Of course. Thank you.” Seth had had an uneasy relationship with God for quite a while and didn’t make attending Sunday service a priority. But he knew it would be expected of him.
Then he remembered something she’d said earlier. “I’m curious—how did there come to be four families here with connections to Judge Madison? I understand the Barrs—their connection is familial. And you mentioned he once did your brother a kindness. But that still leaves two others.”
She nodded. “Actually, all four men, including Mr. Barr, are originally from the Philadelphia area, which, come to think of it, should give you some common ground with them.”
“Four different men moved here from Philadelphia?” Something suddenly clicked. That’s why the name Everett Fulton had sounded familiar. “Your brother, Everett, you said he runs the newspaper here—he was a reporter for a newspaper in Philadelphia six or so years back, wasn’t he?”
She looked pleased. “He was. Do you know him then?”
“Only by reputation.” There’d been a scandal attached to the man’s name, something about an inaccurate article that led to a public figure’s downfall. No wonder he’d moved so far away. But why had Judge Madison gotten involved? And did Miss Fulton know about the scandal?
“Everett had a rough time of it for a while.” Miss Fulton said. “I’m not sure of the details—he doesn’t like to talk about it so I don’t pry. But things have really turned around for him since he moved here. Especially since he met and married Daisy. I’ve never seen him happier.”
So she didn’t know about the scandal. Perhaps that was for the best. Such knowledge would definitely dull the sparkle of her rose-colored outlook.
“As for the connection between the four families and Judge Madison,” she continued, “he’s the one who arranged for all four men—my brother, Adam Barr, Mitch Parker and Chance Dawson—to travel here together. His reasons for doing so are between him and the men.” She grinned. “I’ve always thought it added an air of romance and mystery to the group and I used to spend hours making up stories about it in my head.”
He certainly believed that—she seemed the type to romanticize even the most mundane of happenings. But it was interesting that all four men had traveled here together.
She brushed at her skirt. “I know you’re probably still tired from your trip. Would you like me to come by here in the morning before the service or would you rather meet us in front of the newspaper office?”
“I’ll come to you.”
She gave him directions and then made her exit.
As Seth climbed the stairs he tried to get his thoughts in order. This job was turning out to be something quite different than what he’d anticipated, but not because of the work itself. Having to keep up with the unorthodox Miss Fulton was going to require a whole extra layer of his attention.
But he was confident he could handle it. Strange, though, that he was feeling more intrigued than irritated by the prospect. When had his attitude shifted?
He shook his head. All he needed was a good night’s rest and he would be up to facing any silly scheme she tried to throw at him.
In fact, he was rather looking forward to it.
* * *
Abigail took her accustomed place with the rest of the choir at the front of the church the next morning. Her gaze turned Mr. Reynolds’s way more often than was entirely proper, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
He’d met her, as planned, in front of the newspaper office. Punctual, of course. She’d introduced him to Everett and Daisy and had been a little surprised at his demeanor. While he’d been polite, he hadn’t exactly been warm or neighborly. Of course, he’d been standoffish with her at first, too. But there was something different about this interaction that troubled her, something she
couldn’t quite put her finger on.
Perhaps it was just her imagination. Because Seth sat in the pew next to Everett and she didn’t sense anything amiss now.
Reverend Harper moved to the pulpit and Abigail turned her gaze in his direction, determined to pay attention to the sermon.
Later, when the service had ended, Abigail was pleased to find Mr. Reynolds had waited for her rather than making his exit with her family. She linked her elbow to Constance’s and pulled her from the choir. “Come on, I want to introduce you to Mr. Reynolds.”
A moment later, they were face-to-face. “Mr. Reynolds, this is Constance Harper, who is also the reverend’s daughter, the town’s pharmacist and my best friend.”
She turned to her friend. “Constance, this is Mr. Seth Reynolds, the gentleman who’s come to oversee the renovations to the hotel.”
Mr. Reynolds executed a short bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet a lady who holds so many auspicious titles.”
Abigail was delighted to hear Mr. Reynolds attempt to be charming, especially when it was aimed at her best friend.
Constance smiled. “Thank you. And welcome to Turnabout. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here.”
“I’m sure I will.”
They headed toward the front doors.
“Abigail has been talking of nothing else but the hotel since she received Judge Madison’s letter,” Constance said. “It sounds as if it will be quite grand when the work is complete.”
“That’s our plan.”
So, he was back to short answers.
They had reached the door by this time, so Abigail introduced him to Reverend Harper and then they were out in the sunshine. Constance moved off to join her mother, leaving Abigail alone with Mr. Reynolds.
“Everett and Daisy have already headed to the restaurant. Shall we head that way or is there anyone here you’d like me to introduce you to?”
He swept a hand outward. “I’m at your disposal. Please, proceed as you normally would.”
Once Upon a Texas Christmas Page 4
