Chapter 10

 

Elora was spared from having to answer by a knock then Perry entering bearing a luncheon tray laden with fancy sandwiches and buttery biscuits. Deftly the maitre d’ cleared a space on the desk and set things within easy reach of the occupants.

“Will that be all?” Perry asked as he straightened.

“No,” Paul said. “I want you to tell me exactly who Lori is?”

Elora’s breath caught in her throat. Her startled gaze flew to connect with Perry’s unruffled composure. She calmed at the sight of his loyalty. He was one of the chosen few who knew what she’d been through. Until she could walk well enough with her cane, he’d carried her up and down the stairs of the hotel so she wouldn’t remain trapped in her room. He had been the first to defer to her when she’d stepped in to manage the place after Warren’s stroke.

Perry would never betray her.

“I am sorry, sir.” Perry inclined his head. “But that is not for me to say. Only Lori can answer that question for you.”

“But she refuses.” Paul drummed his long, lean fingers in a rhythmic tattoo along the chair’s armrest. “And I’m asking you to tell me.” 

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” Perry flicked an imaginary crumb off the cloth. “Until Lori herself tells me otherwise, I will not divulge a thing.” He nodded curtly and left.

“A conspiracy perhaps?” Paul asked. “I suppose if I were to ask the receptionist the same thing I’d get the same answer,” he mused. “Curiouser and curiouser.”

“If you’re not happy with how the hotel’s been managed over the past two months, then I’ll leave.” Elora lifted her chin. “Right now, today.” 

She quashed a fleeting glimpse of despair. She loved her work here. In fact, she preferred it to the running of the golf course. Warren McLean was close to retirement, a situation his poor health had hastened. Despite the fact she had no formal training at administering such an establishment, Elora had hoped to convince Paul Barrington-Smith to let her stay on. She sighed.

“I can’t lie.” Paul shifted in his seat. “As much as I’d like to be able to say otherwise, given our initial meeting, but the hotel seems to have been in capable hands. The reports I’ve gotten over the past two months are far more accurate and concise than any received over the past six months since I’ve owned the place. All records are complete, there are no complaints, even maintenance shows records of improvement.” He looked at her with his blue eyes. “Yet everything is still signed by Warren McLean. Why?”

Elora brightened visibly at the praise. Maybe there was still hope. She sat up taller, smiled, and told her tale.

“Two months ago, when Warren had his stroke, I just happened to be here. I took charge of everything. People needed a leader. At the time, any leader would do. There was a convention planned over the Easter weekend, to begin that very night. I knew what Warren wanted and I did it.” Elora rested her elbow on the armrest and leaned forward. “It helped that half the staff are my friends, and did everything without questioning.”

Paul picked up his cup. “I could see that as being a distinct advantage,” he said. “Continue.”

“That’s really it.” She spread her hands. “The conference went off without a hitch. I continued to manage things once we realized Warren wasn’t coming back anytime soon. To keep from bothering you and getting a new manager that no one would know, everyone fell in with the plan of letting me run the place.” 

She didn’t tell him that the initial suggestion had come from Perry.

“How convenient.”

“Any paperwork that needed signing would be taken over to Warren. I always kept him in touch with the daily running of the place and consulted him on matters whenever necessary.” She gave a small shrug. “And it certainly helped that I lived here at the hotel, so I was pretty much on call at all times.”

“You lived here? I have no record of that either.” He glanced absently at the computer at his side. Elora now knew what he’d been doing in the front parlour while waiting for her to finish her exercise session. “Please explain.”

“I’ve just moved back to my own place.” Elora sat back in her chair. “But for a while, due to personal problems, I’d been living here.”

“There are no records at all of you.” Paul frowned. “And you say you’ve lived here for how long? Three months,” he repeated her answer. “At whose expense did you live at my hotel, and upon whose authority?”

Elora lifted her chin and her gaze met his head on. “It was an even trade. I worked here in exchange for room and board. Warren felt I should have been placed on the payroll and paid for my time, but I didn’t want my name on the hotel’s records. I had no need for financial reimbursement, but I did have need of a place to stay.”

Paul frowned. “That explains why, whenever I’ve been in contact with the hotel, or acknowledged work records, or even spoken with Warren McLean on the phone, your name has never once come up.” He sat back and propped one ankle over the other knee. He helped himself to a warm biscuit. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a ghost.”

Irrational as it was, Elora felt the blood drain from her face at the suggestion. Four months ago she’d come awfully close to becoming one.

“Are you okay?” Paul leaned forward in his chair. “You’ve gone as white as a sheet.”

Elora stared at the hotel owner. Without thinking she blurted out, “I flat-lined four months ago. That brush with death was too close for comfort.” Admitting her fear to a perfect stranger, and something so profoundly personal that no one other than Veronica, Patrick and Perry knew, sent the blood rushing back into her face. “I’m sorry.” She rubbed at the permanent furrow between her eyes. “You don’t need to know my problems.”

She watched Paul’s intense gaze travel from her face to her cane and back again. “I don’t want your pity or curiosity.” She held up a hand to forestall anymore questions or comments. “My life is back on track, I have my friends and my daughter, and I’ve enjoyed running the hotel. I have to confess I’d love to continue doing it, but I will understand if you choose to bring in someone else to manage it.”

“That, of course, is the heart of the problem.” Paul dropped the subject of her life and returned to the business at hand. “I came here today to talk to Warren about that very thing. I knew he was planning to retire after this summer season, so I wanted to check things out firsthand and suggest he train the new person over the summer.”

Elora looked at Paul. The leap of excitement in her breast died a swift death. “You already have someone else in mind, don’t you?” She nibbled on her lower lip.

“Actually, yes.” Paul took a sip of his black coffee. “I was hoping to convince my younger brother, Aidan, to take it on. He’s been, shall we say, somewhat adrift lately, and I thought it about time he settled down and set aside his irresponsible ways.”

“You can’t always tell people what to do or how to live their lives.” Elora hoped she wasn’t pushing too far.

“No, you’re right. But that doesn’t stop one from worrying especially when it’s your younger brother who takes it into his head to go skydiving or bungee jumping. I’m afraid of what he’ll decide to try next.”

“Sounds like he’s looking for excitement.” Elora added cream and sugar to her coffee before taking a sip.

“I’m not sure what he’s looking for, something out of the ordinary I’m sure, but whatever it is I know he hasn’t found it yet. And on top of that, he hates being associated with the Barrington-Smith name. That’s why I suggested he come here; I thought he might enjoy the anonymity of country living.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help.” Elora was never one to admit defeat, but she was enough of a realist to know when to give in gracefully. “If you can convince him to come here this summer, between Warren and myself we can try to hand the running of the operation over to him. But if he doesn’t want to….” her voice trailed away on a hopeful note.

“You may be surprised to know that you’ll be my second choice.”

Elora laughed. When Paul glanced over at her she tried to cover her mouth with both hands, but the chuckles still escaped.

“What’s so funny?”

“To know I come second best to an irresponsible drifter and a daredevil to boot.” She dropped her hands into her lap.

“Look.” Paul set his cup back down. “That’s not what I meant. I know my brother. He’s highly educated with a master’s degree in business administration. If he chose to, he’d be a damned fine hotelier. Or a damned fine whatever it is he wants to be. I know nothing about you, other than your burning ambition, yet I would still be willing to consider you. And….”

“And what?”

“Apparently Aidan stayed here not so long ago. I didn’t know of his intention to come here, had I known I would most certainly have joined him. Nevertheless, while he was here he apparently met you, or,” at her shake of the head, “he at the very least was able to see you in action and was impressed enough with your ability to pass on his recommendation that we keep you.”

“I wish I’d known one of the owners was here,” Elora said. “I would have rolled out the red carpet.”

“You mean, rather than threaten with that cane of yours?” He grinned.

Elora sighed. She knew she had that coming. She glanced at Paul. The twinkle in his eye reassured her that she still had a chance to convince him of her suitability. But honesty made her say, “Though you’d still prefer it if Aidan took on this job, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.” Paul nodded. “But the last time I spoke with him he gave me the very distinct impression that he wants nothing to do with this hotel or this town. I still hope to change his mind.”

“And if he doesn’t want it, you’d still consider me, a perfect stranger with no apparent qualifications?”

Paul sat back in his chair.

“Aidan seemed genuinely impressed with you, and where business is concerned he’s always had an exceptional head on his shoulders. I suspect this carefree existence is really going against his own conscientious nature. And despite our initial meeting, the quality of your work speaks for itself.”

“Thank you.” Elora picked up her cup and took a sip.

“And, odd as this may sound, there’s something almost familiar about you, like I should know you.” He must have seen a worried look cross her face for he added quickly before she could reply, “I don’t mean anything from the newspapers or TV. Nothing so distant. It’s something much closer than that.” He snapped his fingers suddenly. “My mother,” he said. “I’ve got it now. You remind me of my mother. You seem to have some of her mannerisms, like covering your mouth when you laugh, and biting at your lower lip.”

Elora found his comment peculiar, but she just had to ask, “And you love your mother very much, right?”

“Absolutely,” he agreed. “She’s the salt of the earth.”

Elora smiled. “Then I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“That’s how it was given.”

He smiled back, a genuine smile that lightened his features.

“But,” Paul said as he held up one hand, his expression serious once more. “If I were willing to consider hiring you on permanently, I’d need to know a heck of a lot more than your first name.”

“You’re absolutely right. If, and when, you decide to hire me, I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

“Need to know?” He arched a brow.

“Within reason, of course.”

“Of course.” And he smiled again.

 

* * * *

 

Dan stared out of his top floor, executive office window over downtown Halifax and frowned. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his raw silk, designer suit jacket. In the distance thunderheads formed out over the Atlantic. The coming weather suited his mood. Golfing in the rain wasn’t much fun, and yet the thought of being trapped indoors shuffling papers appealed even less.

What did appeal, he thought as he absently pulled at his beard, was enjoying a quiet dinner with Lori. A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. She was the first woman he’d met in a long time, a very long time in fact, to whom his thoughts returned regularly. He enjoyed nothing more than reliving the memory of that magical evening spent in her company. Being with her felt somewhat akin to the feeling generated by shooting that rare hole in one – the sublime feeling of the elation at such extraordinary moments was a welcome respite from the humdrum of everyday life.

He turned his back on the view and stared at his desk. The smile faded. His work here trapped him as effectively as a cage restrained a falcon.

If only he could convince his parents and his brother that he wasn’t cut out for this kind of work. If only he could find the right words to break free and fly away from it all. If only he knew how to get in touch with the elusive Lori….

Hmm…. His roving glance fell on the telephone. Surely in the day of the information age there was some way to track her down.