Under The Mistletoe. Kristin Hardy

Under The Mistletoe - Kristin  Hardy


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with a fork and knife, instead of with your hands.”

      “No fork and knife, and you’ll be happy to know I’m using a paper towel instead of a napkin.” Gabe wiped his fingers.

      “What, are you turning into a savage?”

      “You just can’t stand the fact that I have style, can you?”

      “So are you calling to dangle your pizza in front of me?”

      “Actually, I’m calling up to bitch.”

      “Don’t tell me, you couldn’t get the right wine for pizza. What does a guy like you have to bitch about?”

      “Stone Enterprises.”

      Nick snorted. “Why don’t you add on Microsoft and Donald Trump, while you’re at it?”

      “Because Donald Trump didn’t just take over my hotel.”

      “Ah.”

      “And didn’t send in a flunky to take apart everything I’ve built in the past five years.” The frustration that had been simmering in him bubbled up afresh.

      “I take it you didn’t hit it off with him.”

      “Her.”

      “Ah.”

      “Yeah, ah.”

      “Our lives may be in sync. What about the her?”

      “Besides the fact that she’s a corporate shark in the skin of a goddess?”

      “Definitely in sync. A goddess, huh?”

      “Enough to make me change my religion. Except for the fact that her job is to turn my hotel into a low-end chain joint.”

      “That is kind of a problem.”

      “You think?”

      There was a short silence while Nick digested the news. “A wise man once told me that the way to get what you want is to help the people in a position to say yes get what they want.”

      “I was the one who told you that,” Gabe said.

      “Oh, I’m sorry, I meant a wiseass. It’s true, though. People operate mostly on self-interest. Convince her that it’s in her best interest to do it your way. Unless you’re a screwup and you’re doing it all wrong,” Nick added.

      “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Gabe’s voice was sour.

      “Fair and balanced, that’s our motto. So why does she want to do this?”

      “To meet some bogus profit targets that come from corporate clowns who are clueless about the hotel business.”

      “And what do you want?”

      To bring Whit Stone back. “I want it to be what it is, something special.”

      “Did you tell her that?”

      Gabe smiled faintly. “Let’s just say we didn’t see eye to eye.”

      “Lot of that going around.”

      “Ah,” Gabe said. “Goddess trouble of your own?”

      “My advice to you is avoid ‘em like the plague.”

      “I’m trying,” Gabe said, pushing the image of Hadley out of his mind. “So what, did you and Sloane get in a fight?”

      “We broke up.”

      It explained a lot. “When? You guys looked pretty tight at Thanksgiving.”

      “I think that was what freaked her out. And if that didn’t, the fire sure did.”

      “Fire?” Gabe sat up straight. “What fire?”

      “Oh, we had a big one here last week. Ugly building. A couple of guys got hurt in the collapse.”

      “One of those guys wouldn’t be you, would he?”

      There was a pause. “You going to tell Ma?”

      Gabe snorted. “How old are you again?”

      “I mean it. She doesn’t need to be scared, not when she’s still getting over losing Dad.”

      “Okay, sealed shut,” Gabe promised, invoking their child hood code.

      “I had to go in after one of my guys who got hurt. The building came down on us as we were getting out.”

      “And what happened to you?”

      “Nothing serious,” Nick said. “A few burns and bruises. It looked worse than it was—the people on the outside thought we both bit the big one. Sloane bolted.”

      “Well, you’ve got to admit, it would give a person pause. If the idea of waking up with you didn’t do it already.”

      “She lost her brother in that Hartford fire a couple of years back. What I do gives her bad vibes, I guess.”

      “It’s not as simple as what you do. It’s what you are.”

      Nick let out a long breath. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

      Gabe had never heard Nick sound quite so miserable. “Did she ask you to quit?”

      “She says that she knows I couldn’t.”

      “At least she gets it.”

      “That doesn’t really help,” Nick said with a little edge.

      “I know.” Gabe paused. “Do you love this woman?”

      “Yes.” Nick’s answer was calm, immediate, without question.

      “Then go after her.” Relationships had always seemed simple to Gabe. You were interested in a woman, you asked her out. If it worked, you kept at it until it no longer did. Eventually, you found a keeper.

      Unless the one you were interested in was completely off-limits. Gabe shook his head. “Talk to her, change her mind.”

      “It’s not that easy, charm boy. I can’t push her into living with a firefighter any more than she would push me into quitting. She’s got to come to it on her own. If she ever does.”

      “While you just sit and wait?”

      “While I just sit and wait.”

      “You’re not exactly a waiting type.”

      “You’ve noticed?”

      Because he knew arguments would be futile, Gabe didn’t bother. “That sucks, man.”

      Nick sighed. “Yeah, it does. What about you—are you stuck with this situation?”

      “Unless I want to get another job.”

      “Do you want another job?”

      “I don’t know. I love this place. If I left, I’d feel like I’d let down the old owner and the staff. And the hotel itself.”

      “You ever going to stop trying to take care of everyone?”

      “You ever going to stop risking your neck trying to save people?” Gabe asked by way of answer.

      “At least I get paid for it.”

      “I do, too, most of the time.”

      “So what are you going to do about your goddess?”

      “I don’t know. Try to do my job. Try to keep her from doing too much damage.” Try to erase Saturday from his memory.

      “Show her what matters to you about the hotel. Maybe it’ll become important to her, too.”

      What he loved about the hotel was the romance, the history of it. The way he’d felt on the dance floor with Hadley in his arms. The hotel belonged to lovers.


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