Her sister brightened. "Brilliant."
They moved on to the spacious restaurant situated outside the bar, stretching the width of the building.
"There's room for lots of people." Jasmine looked a tad skeptical.
"Being a conference hotel, we must expect many guests. Considering the size, it's quite remarkable that the restaurant turned out so intimate." Miranda went out to the expansive terrace. "We'll offer outdoor seating. Not much beats this view."
"Imagine sitting here with a cup of herbal tea," Tony said, pretending to be in a completely different world already.
"Hmm, I'd prefer a beer." Vidar squinted in the bright sunlight.
"It's incredibly beautiful here." Elvira's voice was full of enthusiasm.
"Would you like to see your apartment, Mom?"
"Very much so."
They took the elevator to the fourth floor and passed two suites in the long corridor before reaching their destination. Miranda opened the unlocked door, and they entered a light, elegant apartment with a narrow terrace and a view of the sea.
"What a place to live," Vidar commented. "This should belong to us, Miranda. You are the hotel manager, right?"
Miranda felt her cheeks turn red-hot in response to her husband's rude remarks. How could he say something like that with everyone present? She knew he was jealous, but he could at least try to hide it.
Fortunately, Vidar's comment slipped past Elvira. She wandered from room to room, nodding to herself. "It's ready to move into."
"Let's take a look at your place too, while we're here," Miranda said to Kitty. "You have a view of the marina."
Her grandma's suite was no less impressive but much smaller. "I can sit on my terrace and peek at the boating people. I bet many of them are preparing their boats now that spring is here."
Miranda hugged her. Kitty had been like a mother to them while Elvira had been absent-minded, and their father more distant than ever.
"Your son thought of everything." She knew that if there had been anyone William truly loved, it was his mother. "You can move in tomorrow if you wish."
They walked through the second and third floor. The conference rooms lay side by side, differing in size, and could seat up to one hundred and fifty participants. One was a banquet hall, not yet finished.
"What do you think, Celine?" Miranda inquired. "This is where Dad wanted you to work. Are you in the conference business?"
Celine was baffled and visibly disconcerted. She shook her head. "I'm a hairdresser."
Taken aback, Miranda looked at her newfound sister. "How odd. Then why would Dad give you that position?"
"It's unheard of," Vidar grumbled. "Hairdressers don't have a clue about the conference market. You can swap with me. Anyone can be a janitor."
Celine blushed, but she knew how to express herself. "I've always dreamed of working with events, like important occasions and weddings. I never mentioned it to William, but my mother might have."
"That makes sense," Isabella said. "Conferences and events are much the same thing."
"Shall we check out the spa department soon?" Tony was usually incredibly patient and rarely let himself be affected by external circumstances. Thus, everyone stared at him in astonishment.
"Sure," Miranda said, purposefully heading for the elevator. "We've saved the best for last."
The finishing touches still remained to be done in the spa. Miranda looked at the drawings and walked them through to the pool area.
"This will be my second home," Kitty said giggling, before straightening King's red bow. As always, fastidious about matching the dog's bow – or perhaps it was the other way around – today her short skirt and silk blouse was red, too.
Miranda grinned, knowing it was the truth. Kitty was meticulous about her appearance, and her thick white hair was styled weekly. With a hair salon in close vicinity to the spa, she knew where they would find her. Not only there, but Kitty would also be a regular at the nail designer in the beauty parlor – who was her granddaughter Jasmine, mind you – and at the swimming pools and other facilities. There were lots to choose between, and William had made sure his mother would never have to pay for a single treatment. When lawyer Henriksen read the statement, that had been a shock in itself. Miranda once more reflected on the fact that she didn't know her father at all. She had never seen this gentle and caring trait before.
Miranda placed an arm around her grandma. "You're absolutely right. You can enjoy yourself here as often as you like."
"Can you live with this, Tony?" Isabella peeked at him as she sat down by the pool.
He shrugged. "It's overwhelming, not to mention huge. And I'm not exactly a bossy kind of guy. Deciding what to put on my bread for breakfast is hard enough."
A few of them laughed, and Miranda thought with horror how things would turn out if her brother were responsible for this important department. "Dad has provided several people to assist you. Let's hope they're competent."
"Good thing he has filled every position at the hotel," Isabella said. "That way we won't have to spend time on it. If the hotel is to open in a couple of months, I guess the new employees are all on the term of notice now."
They went upstairs to the lobby and returned to their cars. "If we accept the inheritance, we'll have our hands full in the coming weeks," Miranda said. She peered toward the idyllic little town, situated at the bay in front of them. "Not only with regards to our jobs but also considering our living situation. We've got to move here. Is this what we really want?"
3
Another visit to Solvik followed the next day. If they were to move, it was a decision they had to make as a family. Miranda wanted to excel in her new job. She would have loved to show her father her capabilities, and what he'd missed all these years without her contribution. But it was too late now, much too late. There was no one left to impress but herself.
The children, Sofie and Noah, accompanied them reluctantly. They had their friends and lives in the capital, and no desire whatsoever to move to the middle of nowhere. Vidar's attitude wasn't better. He still pouted about the assignment he had been offered, which was miles below his dignity.
"Are we expected to live here?" Skeptical, Sofie stared out of the car window as they drove through the town's streets to familiarize themselves.
"We have to if we want to work here." Miranda turned and faced her daughter's miserable face. Everything had gone wrong these last few months. Nothing was fun, and school was deadly boring. The cheerful teenager had, all of a sudden, become as grumpy as her father and equally exhausting to handle. Where had her sweet and friendly girl gone? Her eyes moved to her son. Thankfully, pleasing Noah was effortless. All he required was plenty of time to play games with his friends.
"But I can't change school a few months before my exams." Sofie gave her mother an exasperated look.
"You're right. You'd better take the bus to school. There's a direct route from here which takes about half an hour. But you'll have to use the tram up to the school."
"It'll take forever," Sofie complained. "And what about my tennis lessons?"
"Getting to practice without a car will be tricky. How about playing tennis here? They might have a club in Solvik. From what I've read, they do have a handball club."
"How will that help, when my friends are in Oslo?"
"Let's discuss it later," Miranda said, "we've arrived." She parked the car outside the hotel.
"It's huge." Noah appeared suitably impressed. "Is this where you'll be the boss, Mom?"
"If that's what we decide," she said diplomatically. "It's not for me to decide alone. You should enjoy living here, too, as should Vidar."
"What's your job, Dad?"
Vidar turned bright red. Miranda felt sorry for him and wanted to help him out of the uncomfortable situation. "He'll be working with all sorts of things. Come on, let's go inside and have a look." She didn't know how long she could divert the children, they were both teens. But she could ho
pe for a short postponement.
"Grandma and Great-grandma will live on the top floor. It'll be nice having them close by, don't you think? You can visit as often as you wish."
"Just like we do now," Sofie said, slightly resigned. "They don't live far from us."
"But they have settled on moving here," said Miranda. She so wanted to take on the enormous challenge of getting the hotel up and running, not to mention making it a success. But what did it help if the rest of her family didn't want this?
"We're talking major changes for all of us, whether we like it or not." She'd tried talking to Vidar the previous night, but she was still unsure of his wishes. He was by no means interested in the janitor job, and she certainly understood how he felt. He was ambitious and losing his job had struck him hard. His self-confidence had gotten a proper blow, and his humor diminished with every rejection of his applications. She tried to cheer him up to the best of her abilities, but it wasn't a simple task. Perhaps this was the chance he needed to get out of the negative loop in which he had entangled himself.
4
Solvik – two months later
The few cloudlets in the sky didn't matter. Solvik was at its prettiest when the Sea Breeze Hotel & Spa opened its doors on the first day of May. The bright green buds on the birch trees made a sharp contrast to the cornflower blue sky, and the glittering ocean was soothingly tranquil.
Daffodils filled the flower beds around the hotel. In a couple of weeks, when there was no longer any chance of frost at night, pansies would replace them.
Miranda had prepared her welcome speech and informed the guests about the hotel's facilities and possibilities. By now, people with canapés and champagne glasses in their hands crammed the place. She didn't know anyone, apart from her family. Her brother and sisters had elected to accept their father's job offer, and everyone, except for Jasmine, had moved to Solvik. Her younger sister had chosen to remain in Oslo and commute to her new job. Miranda's thoughts were interrupted by a woman wanting to greet her.
"I'm Bettina Hoff and the owner of Solvik Guesthouse. I guess we'll be competitors..."
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I heard there was a guesthouse in town." Miranda smiled amicably. The woman in front of her was beautiful, with a golden exotic appearance and long black hair.
"I only have six guestrooms to fill, no match to your one hundred and fifty." Bettina looked at her uncertainly, and Miranda got she must be worried about the effect the hotel would have on her business. She took to her immediately and wanted to reassure her. "We're mainly targeting the conference market and people wanting a spa experience. I presume we're in two different markets?"
Bettina nodded. "I've taken a tour, and your rooms are nothing like mine. Besides, I only offer breakfast."
"I think we'll complement each other well. And maybe we can direct guests to one another when we're fully booked."
Bettina smiled. "I'd be happy to. I'm testing the restaurant this evening with my friends, Sara and Emmelin. Our town doesn't have a seafood restaurant, so I'm sure it'll be appreciated."
"How nice. I'll catch you later."
The Flying Fish restaurant didn't have a single table vacant this evening. They had advertised half prices on opening day, and both the guests and the locals seemed eager to try the new dining place. Miranda spotted Remy Andvik conversing with a couple of men in suits, who arranged conferences. William had employed him as the restaurant manager, in charge of both the restaurant and the bar, in addition to all dining in connection with the conferences. It was a demanding job, but he had many co-workers. Remy came from one of the Michelin-star restaurants in the capital, and the expectations he put on himself and others were sky-high. They had concluded it was unlikely there would be a market for anything as fashionable here in tiny Solvik, at least not in the beginning. Therefore, he would try to combine delicious food for the locals at reasonable prices. Miranda had sampled every dish he'd made and had never tasted anything as appetizing. She firmly believed in this restaurant and this chef.
Kitty came tripping toward Miranda, King in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. The dog's bow for the occasion was burgundy, as were the owner's lipstick and nail polish. Around her neck hung a sizable self-made necklace, matching her bracelets.
"How pretty you are, Kitty." Grandma loved to dress up, and jewelry had been her primary hobby throughout the years. They by no means looked self-made and could just as well have come from a creative jewelry shop.
"Thank you, Miranda. What a fabulous opening. And so many good-looking people. I see several men I'd like to get acquainted with, but it's a bit overwhelming even for me." She laughed warmly.
"It's a relief to get it over and done with," Miranda said. "It's been strenuous getting everything ready."
"I know. How's Vidar coping? Has his mood improved?"
She smiled. Kitty noticed everything, however minuscular, and loved to give well-meaning advice. Keeping anything hidden from her was hopeless. She always found out, one way or the other.
"You probably know more than me," she said, picking up King from her arm. The little dog was adorable. The teens kept begging for a dog, but she refused, knowing who'd end up with its daily walks.
"It must be trying for him." Kitty sipped her champagne. "Being a light bulb changer isn't equal to being a finance manager."
Miranda hid a smile in King's fur. Kitty was spot on, and the situation was complicated. Not only had she got the position he craved, but William had employed another man, Gabriel Knutsen, as finance manager of the hotel. Her father had undoubtedly thought of Vidar as a lightweight, and it didn't surprise her. Vidar wasn't conscientious, and she'd often wondered how he could do a decent job when being so careless. But what puzzled her the most, was how William could have known. They'd hardly spent any time together after the kids were born, always engrossed in new opportunities and projects. Thankfully, William had dusted off his golf clubs the last few years. Her father was indeed a brilliant businessman, who didn't do anything without reason; if only she knew what it was.
Several hundred guests were chatting and helping themselves to drinks while strolling around, inspecting the hotel. Many were specially invited, like travel agents serving the conference market and companies organizing events. Miranda had talked to everyone who might be interested in having their meetings there, and she was satisfied with the contacts she'd made. She'd also been conscious of introducing them to Celine, with whom they'd be in close contact when arranging the meetings.
The last hour had seen an increasing desire from people wanting to have a look at the spa and the conference facilities, in addition to the various guest rooms and suites. Together with Tony, Miranda had decided on half-price discounts on all treatments in the spa and beauty parlor the following week. It was imperative the locals knew what they had to offer. The unique experiences were perfect for those living in the vicinity, who could enjoy themselves without having to travel far.
The restaurant had been open for the guests to sit down and chat. Now they were clearing the room to prepare for dinner, the only item left on the agenda, and the chefs were in full control. Miranda felt herself starting to relax, and she was able to lower her shoulders. It had been a successful opening, and she was curious to see what tomorrow would bring. She noticed Jasmine standing in a corner by herself, eating, and decided to head over to her. "Weren't you supposed to be in the beauty parlor to show our visitors what you have to offer?"
Jasmine looked at her, uncomprehending. "I can't be there all night. Besides, I'm starving."
Miranda didn't understand the problem. Was it too much to ask her to spend one hour informing people about their manicure and pedicure products? How would she manage a whole day at work?
She looked at the small plate in Jasmine's hand. Eight canapés lay almost on top of each other. Who helped themselves to that many? And where was the champagne? Something was amiss.
"Where's your glass? You love champagne."
Jasmine's pale cheeks took on a peach color, not unlike the color of her hair. "Well... I think I might be pregnant. Better be on the safe side."
"What?" Miranda was taken aback and didn't know what else to say. "With Hugo?"
Jasmine's cheeks now resembled a darker, overripe peach. Dismayed, Miranda thought of her sister's relationship with men. She'd been with a married man for years but was still waiting for him to break free from his wife and son on a more permanent basis than a couple of hours at a time. Miranda had long ago given up trying to make Jasmine understand he'd never leave his family to be with her.
"Eh, maybe." Jasmine kept eating but avoided her sister's prying eyes.
"What do you mean by that? Have you finally found someone footloose and fancy-free? I didn't know you'd finished with Hugo, but I'm happy for you, and it's about time."
Jasmine looked a tad insulted. "You know Hugo is the love of my life. I get a little tired of waiting now and then, that's all. He never gets the chance to tell his wife about me. Something always gets in the way..."
"You'll be waiting forever. Why not go for this new guy instead? Who is he, by the way?" Miranda gave her an encouraging look, but Jasmine took her time answering.
"You know him, but I can't reveal his name. He doesn't know I'm pregnant. Furthermore, he's married, too."
Miranda stared at her sister, horrified. How stupid could one get? Some people never learned from their mistakes. Unfortunately, the problem was that Jasmine wouldn't acknowledge that she was doing something wrong.
"You must be joking."
Jasmine didn't answer but looked visibly uncomfortable, her eyes firmly fixed on the empty plate in her hand.
"How could you be so thoughtless and irresponsible?"
Jasmine shrugged. "It wasn't all my fault. You constantly make it sound as if I'm the one to blame."
Time for Surprises Page 2
