Chapter 11

 

Elora reached out and touched the back of Paul’s hand. Even on such short acquaintance, she felt she knew him. She recalled the look in his eyes when he’d spoken of his brother. There was no anger or condescension lurking there, only concern and a genuine love. Aidan was lucky to have a brother who so obviously cared. And Paul truly loved his mother, another good point in his favour.

She patted his arm. “Let me show you around the place first,” Elora offered. “I had suggested some improvements to Warren, which he agreed with, and I’ve already gone ahead and implemented some. Others I’d like to discuss with you, that is, if you still want to hear about them?”

“Of course. That’s why I’m here.”

Elora led the way into the front foyer. She greeted Trudy, who was just starting her shift, with a smile.

“This is Mr. Paul Barrington-Smith, the new owner. Paul, meet Trudy Grant, the sweetest lady this side of the Atlantic.”

Trudy blushed and waved her hand at Elora. “How you do go on, dearie.”

Elora continued her tour. She braced herself with her cane as she indicated the track lighting in the ceiling she had had installed just two weeks before. She was pleased at his nod of approval.

“Let me show you the rooms upstairs first, then we’ll do the restaurant and lower level.” Elora indicated the stairwell with a wave of her hand. “I wasn’t that impressed with the smoke detector system, so I’ve had that overhauled. I’d also like to discuss with you improvements to the sprinkler system.” She climbed the risers slowly but surely. She smiled over at her companion who kept pace with her. “I’ve stayed in enough hotels to last me a lifetime,” she said. “And I feel that the Barons could use a safety upgrade.”

“You’re probably right,” Paul replied. “This is such an old building that half the wiring is probably jury-rigged together.” He paused on the steps when she did.

“I now understand why you were exercising outside.” Paul looked up and down the hallway. “Doesn’t this place have an elevator?”

“No.” She shook her head. “But I’ve got an estimate for installing one where the back service stairs are right now.” She led the way down the corridor. “By the time it could be installed, I won’t need it, but future patrons could certainly benefit. Perry used to carry me up and down when I first came to live here.”

“He seems protective of you.” Paul stared down at her, a question in his eyes.

“Everyone here at the hotel is,” she said breezily. “You’re a lucky man to own such an establishment with such loyal staff. Everyone pulled together to keep the show on the road when Warren fell ill.”

“It seems to me that the people here are more loyal to one another,” he said. “It’s like the hotel is its own community.”

“That’s it in a nutshell,” Elora agreed. “That’s why I love working here so much. I prefer it to managing the golf club.”

“You manage a golf club as well?” He stared. “Which one?”

“Castleview.”

He whistled. “I’ve played there before. It’s a beautiful course, and very challenging.” 

Elora warmed to his praise. She knew she had never given Castleview her all, but he didn’t have to know that.

At the far end of the third floor, Elora indicated a narrow flight of stairs that led up to what had originally been the servants’ quarters and was now used mostly for storage. “Up there,” she indicated with a wave of her hand, “is a whole other floor that I would love to see turned into a few specialty suites, like a honeymoon suite, executive suite, or whatever. I’ve already taken the liberty of having an architect draw up some preliminary plans.”

“Oh?”

“At my own expense, of course,” Elora added. “Tess is an old friend, and we were just brainstorming some ideas. If you wish to go ahead and do something with the upper level, you don’t have to feel obliged to use her firm’s services.” She smiled at Paul. “I’m only giving you suggestions.”

“I take it you’re friends with the whole town.” Paul chuckled.

“Almost.” She grinned. “Why don’t you take a look up there?”

“I’d rather you showed me. Then you can share with me your vision.”

“I can’t climb up those steep stairs, yet.”

“Mind if I carried you? If Perry can manage the feat, then so could I.”

“I’m all yours.” She opened her arms. She laughed at his raised eyebrow. “You offered.”

Paul was not Danny. That was the first thought that flashed through her mind when Paul picked her up. He was tall, dark, handsome, and had the most amazing smile, when he chose to smile, but she felt nothing in his arms. He wore a crisp, spicy cologne, but it didn’t fire her senses like Danny’s woodsy fragrance.

Elora was almost disappointed with the discovery. She didn’t want the magic to belong to only one man, especially to a man she’d never see again. She had to stop mooning over Danny and get on with her life.

She showed Paul the dusty storage rooms, explained her vision of what could be done with them, then followed him back down the stairs. Descending presented no problem for her, so long as she did it slowly and one step at a time. As she strolled along the vacant guest room hallway with Paul, enthusiastically expounding on her ideas for improving his business, when he stopped her cold with his interjection,

“Now I recognize who you are,” Paul said. “You’re Elora St. James, gold medalist and world championship figure skater. I saw you win the title in Colorado Springs.” Elora halted, taking refuge in leaning on her cane. “I knew I’d seen you before, but you look so different now that it took me a while to figure it out.”

Elora stood still and looked up at him. She said nothing. What was there to say? Paul must have seen confirmation in her eyes, for he continued even though she hadn’t said anything.

“But you were injured a few months ago. Badly enough to knock you out of a chance at this year’s Olympics in Vancouver, as I recall.”

“Yes.” She averted her gaze.

“I’m sorry. I’ve seen you skate a few times; you were truly one of the best. My parents are your biggest fans.”

“Thanks.” She gave a small smile. It wasn’t so difficult to talk about after all.

“Now I understand all the cloak and dagger stuff,” he said. “The media would have a field day if they knew you were rusticating in the country and running an inn.”

“I just hope they never find out.”

“They won’t from me,” Paul promised. “The media have brought me nothing but grief.” He broke eye contact with her, and chose to glance up and down the empty corridor as he explained in a much subdued voice, “My ex was on the fast track to becoming a supermodel, and when she got pregnant with Shane they ruined what little chance we might have had with our marriage by their constant harassing pursuit.”

“I’m sorry.” Elora studied his profile. “You still get to see your son, I hope?”

Paul seemed to withdraw into himself, and she was afraid she’d overstepped her bounds. She was about to apologize for being nosy, when Paul replied in a low voice.

 “Shane died last year of leukemia. He was only seven.” He sighed. “We only ever married because I got her pregnant, and I so wanted to do the right thing. I loved my son, and I know Crystal loved him, too, but he was the only reason we married, or even stayed together. Shane’s death was hard on both of us. And soon after he died the divorce was finalized. The media made a circus out of that as well.”

“I’m so sorry, Paul.” Elora touched his arm. Caught up in her own grief and career, she would have hardly noticed his public pain, but that wouldn’t have stopped others from gaining a vicarious thrill from another’s misfortunes. “There’s nothing worse than losing loved ones.”

Paul seemed to study her hand on his arm, then placed his other hand over hers and gave her fingers a slight squeeze. “Yes. I remember reading about your family in that air disaster,” he whispered. “You lost everyone. My own mother took your loss very hard.”

“Not everyone.” After all these years she could smile again. She took Paul’s arm and guided them towards the stairway, back down to civilization and away from personal talk. She didn’t want the conversation to return to her and her supposed injury. “I still have Caitlin, my brother’s daughter.”

At the bottom of the stairwell Caitlin materialized, as if conjured out of thin air.

“Mommy!” Caitlin cried as she hurtled out of Perry’s arms and towards Elora. “Look what I gots.” She waved a piece of paper covered in colourful markings in the air. “I drawed a picture of the Bairns Hotel for you.”

“That’s lovely, sweetie.” Elora patted the child’s head. “Why don’t you show your picture to Paul? He’s the owner of the hotel.”

“Do you belong to the hotel?” Caitlin gazed up at the tall man with her wide, innocent hazel eyes.

“I suppose you could say that.” Paul hunkered down to the little girl’s level.

“Are you my uncle?”

“What?” Paul gaped.

“Everyone at the Bairns Hotel is my uncle,” Caitlin explained. She pointed at the maitre d’. “He’s my Uncle Perry. And the cook, the big one, he’s my Uncle Bors.”

“Caitlin?” Elora put her hand on the child’s shoulder and nudged her in the direction of the restaurant. “Why don’t you go with Perry to the kitchen for a snack? We’ll talk after I finish work.”

“Okay,” Caitlin agreed. But first she threw her arms around Paul and gave him a hug. “You’re the bestest uncle.” She gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek before darting after Perry into the Captain’s Table Restaurant.

“I’m sorry,” Elora said. “I’m afraid she can be a bit over exuberant.”

“Don’t apologize,” Paul admonished. “I wouldn’t change anything about her.” He straightened. He looked her in the eye. “I haven’t felt a child’s arms around me for ages.” He smiled softly. “It actually felt better than I thought it might. I wouldn’t mind being her uncle at all.”

“Well….” Elora grinned. “If I continue working here, you can see her whenever you come up for a visit.” She led him back to the office.

Paul chuckled behind her. “Bribery is an unfair advantage.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” she tossed over her shoulder, “and business.”

“Speaking of which,” Paul stepped around her and opened the door. “You had mentioned earlier a charity event for a Victoria Day weekend deal in conjunction with a golf club. What are the details and who do we get in touch with to discuss this idea?”

Paul closed the door to the office and they seated themselves in their respective chairs. This time a feeling of camaraderie pervaded the room instead of the earlier animosity. Elora poured the coffee from the heated carafe and offered him a cup first. She grinned when he repeated his question.

“Me.” She peered at him over the rim of her cup. “I actually own Castleview.”

“Will wonders never cease?” Paul saluted her with his cup. “You’re just the person I want to see then. Let’s talk business.”

Before Elora could respond, Trudy knocked on the door. With a very enigmatic expression on her face, she said, “Mr. Barrington-Smith? I believe you should take this call.”

 

 

Dan dialled the Barons Hotel in Lunenburg. The hotel was the only real reference point he had for trying to track down the elusive Lori. He wasn’t clear on how he would try to get the information he needed, until he heard Trudy Grant’s voice answering on the other end of the line. Just great, the dragon lady!

“I wish to speak with Lori please,” he asked in his most personable yet coolly professional sounding voice.

“May I ask who’s calling?” Trudy answered in her no nonsense, dragon guarding the gate, voice.

If he answered Dan Smith, he suspected she would inform him there was no such creature as Lori in existence and then she’d hang up. He also didn’t want Lori to discover his real identity; there was something special about being with her as just Danny the golfer. And so, without considering where his lie would take him, Dan replied, “This is Paul Barrington-Smith, the new owner, and I wish to speak with Lori on a business matter.”

“Mr. Paul Barrington-Smith you say? One moment please.”

Dan waited while he was put on hold. Unable to sit, he wandered about his office while he waited for Trudy to find Lori. He recalled how Lori’s smile warmed his insides. He hoped she was available to chat. He was trying to think of a story to cover-up the use of Paul’s name when his brother’s voice came on the other line.

“Paul Barrington-Smith here.”

“Paul?” Dan lurched to a halt. “What are you doing there?”

“Working. As myself. May I ask, Aidan, if my question isn’t too impertinent, why in God’s name are you trying to impersonate me?”

Dan ploughed his free hand through his hair. “I was, umm, looking for, well actually needing to speak with a woman about an idea I had,” he said before he could stop himself.

“And you don’t have enough female troubles of your own making, under your own name I might add, that you now have to resort to using, or should I say, abusing my name into the bargain?”

“Listen. I was just trying to get some information, and I thought your name would—”

“No, Aidan. You listen to me. My name is untarnished, and I would like it to remain so. God help us all, I don’t know what scheme you’re trying to concoct this time. But just to be perfectly clear on this issue, Paul Barrington-Smith does not bungee jump, or skydive, or in any other way shirk his responsibilities, and he certainly does not make spurious calls to decent establishments during working hours in the hopes of setting up illicit liaisons.”

“That’s not what this is.” Dan glared at the lightning that streaked across the sky. If it were within his power, he would hurl the bolt over to where his brother was sitting right now.

“Are you at work right now?” Paul asked in his most ominously cool voice.

“Yes.” Dan seethed.

“Then might I suggest you return to work and stop wasting your time as well as my own.”

And then Paul hung up on him.

Dan stared at the dead receiver in his hand. How could he have been so stupid? And all for the sake of a smile. He shook his head and replaced the phone on his desk. What was he doing, chasing after the elusive Lori? Maybe Paul was right, perhaps he should concentrate on work instead of frittering away his time on some woman who probably didn’t even remember he existed.