Love at Christmas Inn Collection 1 Page 12

  Paulina eyed each of the meeting participants. Ariana sat next to her. Next was Lizzie, then Bertie, along with a handful of housekeeping staff who had braved the storm’s remnant winds and cresting drifts. Snow tapered, coming down more like sparkle dust rather than the ardent, more powerful downfall of the past few days.

  Rising from her seat at the head of the conference table, Paulina paced. “Toward that end, I have an idea to propose, an idea that came to life after watching, and participating in, the dinner service.”

  “Which is?” Lizzie posed her question then sipped from a dainty, flowered tea cup of porcelain—a hand-painted antique handed down from her grandmother. The aroma of chamomile spiced by lemon drifted Lydia’s way, causing her to long for a cup. A matriarch in her sixties, Lizzie sported short silver hair and a rounded frame that spoke of a life spent cushioning and comforting others.

  “I’m in complete agreement, Paulina.” Ari stood and addressed the inn’s lead advisors. “We need a chef. As we complete and polish our present restorations, I think it’s unilaterally agreed that we should amplify our resort-style offerings to win over new guests—tourists—and even re-court the locals. Returning a full-service restaurant to Christmas Inn rather than the three days a week currently in place would mark yet another important step forward. That said, I think Graham Forrester’s talents fit the requirements perfectly.”

  “That sounds wonderful, Ari, but could we afford him?” Lizzie set her cup down with a subtle clatter. The sound drew Lydia’s attention, forced her to blink and consider the offer under debate. The initiative was bold, one she had nearly broached with Graham the night before. Hiring Graham was a terrific idea, no question—an answer to prayers both professional and personal as far as Lydia was concerned.

  But there was no way a man like Graham—successful, well-paid, media visible and charismatic—would agree to a fairly non-descript job as chef at Christmas Inn. The facility was just starting to find its footing again after years of unintentional neglect, after seasons of wear and tear that had, for a number of reasons, gone unchecked.

  “He has an engaging style, both as a chef and as a person. I’m impressed.” Lydia chimed in, and spoke from the heart.

  “True. And he’s a far cry from our last chef.” Lizzie made a face. “David Lewiston was a diva with no chops to back up his flamboyant, arrogant attitude.”

  “My point exactly.” Paulina nodded emphatically. “I want your approval to make Graham an offer. Today, if possible. He may turn me down flat, but I’ve received approval from the Christmas family for an impressive package.”

  Ari spoke next. “I’m behind this proposal completely, and made that clear to the board of my father’s firm. Besides, we’ll never know if we don’t ask, right?” She shrugged broadly, and Lydia realized anew how powerful a businesswoman Ariana had become. She assumed the care of Christmas Inn in ways that made Lydia proud.

  Paulina launched into the details of a proposed salary package that made Lydia blanch a bit from a cost perspective. It was definitely a highest-and-best offer, but there would be no needless back and forth. All or nothing. The gamble versus the payoff.

  And just last night Graham had told her, right before that magical midnight kiss, that he felt so electrified, and happy. He had used the word happy. That had to count for something, right? Fulfillment versus material success? Maybe this offer was just what he needed to spark that creative drive and quest.

  She nibbled on her lower lip, staring blankly at the glossy wooden tabletop, dimly aware of her surroundings, the meeting at hand. How had Graham’s presence come to affect her so deeply, and so quickly? What kind of fast-moving train had taken custody of her heart and sent it hurtling forward? She drifted into a memory of their kiss, of chapel bells drifting through the air, chiming the hour of midnight, of Graham’s lips soft and expert against hers, eliciting a thrumming warmth, a dizzying fall…

  Was his arrival in Hope Creek, both personally and professionally, built on some mysterious form of destiny?

  “Lydia?”

  Ari’s slightly raised voice broke through. Lydia shook to alert and cleared her throat. Guilt zapped her nerve endings. “I’m so sorry—I drifted. What were you saying?”

  “We wanted to know your thoughts about the offer.”

  She couldn’t remember a thing about the discussion, so again, she simply spoke from the heart. “I don’t have much to add in the way of business-plan analysis. I leave that to Paulina, and you. All I know is gut instinct tells me he’d be worth every penny.”

  At the conclusion of the meeting, Lydia slouched, feigned study of her scribble-filled note pad. She kept to herself while Ariana gathered her itinerary and a small stash of folders then followed the model-perfect Christmas heiress from the conference room to the general office of Christmas Inn.

  At last, Ari heaved a sigh and cast Lydia a look rife with exasperation. “Talk to me. You were miles away from the meeting today. Care to share any deets with me?”

  “No, not really.” Especially since her nerves endings sang with raw, edgy heat and her emotions were muddled. Seriously. What was going on here? What was she thinking? Graham? Romance? Long-term commitment?

  After no more than three days of knowing each other?

  “It’s OK, Lydia. I don’t need a roadmap. Your face and your actions tell me everything I need to know.”

  Ariana snickered, gliding across the threshold of the main office. She clicked the door closed without further comment or even a backward glance. At that moment, right when Lydia was ready to shut out the world and resume her IT tasks, she caught sight of Graham. He trotted down the curving stairwell, smile spreading when their gazes connected. She couldn’t look away—furthermore, she didn’t even want to try—even when a rogue thought pushed against attraction.

  Was this man an answer to prayer…or looming heartbreak?

  ****

  Graham crossed through the lobby and headed straight to reception where Paulina chatted with a guest. When his turn came, he stepped forward and propped his elbows on the front desk, leaning forward so he could see Lydia better. As usual, she crafted techno-speak into her computer, most likely crafting mega-doses of web magic. Following a mind-clearing blink, he exchanged pleasantries with Paulina then cut straight to the point. “I was thinking, if you’re interested in the help, I’d be happy to return to the kitchen for you, maybe see if we have enough supplies on hand to put together a light lunch service in a couple of hours.”

  Paulina’s business-like demeanor evaporated when she let out a delighted coo, but it was Lydia’s reaction Graham tracked most closely. Her focus slid away from the dual screens she had been studying and her gaze swung his way. When she pushed back from her desk, Graham took in the supple, teasing arch of her brow, the grin that quirked her lips. His sense of vindication skyrocketed. He had won her interest, and that was more than enough to make his pulse pound.

  “Mr. Forrester.” Lydia sashayed to the front desk. “Are you a glutton for punishment?”

  “Hey, c’mon. Be fair. Last night was fun, not punishment. How about it, sous chef? Can I count on you to spare me a few hours?”

  Lydia pursed those delectable lips, narrowed her eyes in speculation. “I suppose I could be enticed.”

  He curved his lips into a deliberately wolfish grin. “I was hoping.”

  All sassy interplay aside, Graham wanted to tell her about the offer from Geoff. Sharing his old friend’s proposition with Lydia would make it feel more real. Perhaps working through emotions, and details would help him figure out what should come next in his life. Just like last night.

  During that world-rocking kiss…

  “Mr. Forrester, I’d like to speak with you at some point this afternoon, if that’s all right.” That request from Paulina turned Graham’s thoughts around in a hurry.

  “Oh—is everything OK?”

  Paulina wiggled her hands back and forth in dismissal. “Couldn’t be better, and no w
orrying. People are getting their feet back under them following the storm. I’d just like to discuss a few things with you before you leave.”

  “Fair enough. I’m pretty sure I’ll be here until tomorrow. Because of the nasty weather and messed up delivery schedules, the replacement car part hasn’t been delivered to the repair shop yet.”

  “And I appreciate your time. For now, though, don’t think a thing of it. Work out the food details with Lydia here and if you’re going to be at work in the kitchen, I’ll just come find you. Thanks again for all you’re doing, Graham. You’re an absolute natural in the kitchen, and a real good man to boot.”

  “I appreciate the compliments but I enjoyed helping out. All inconvenience and storm-drama aside, I’m lucky I landed here.”

  That spicy, leading end-note he delivered straight to Lydia, embracing the now familiar wave of awareness that worked through the air…and his heart.

  6

  The instant Graham told her about the purchase offer from his former boss and mentor, a sinking sensation smothered Lydia. Her stomach took a nosedive and crash-landed on the floor somewhere near her feet.

  “What a great opportunity.” She worked hard not to choke on her words.

  Standing at his side in the kitchen where they used the prep counter to build lunch plates, Lydia buttered sesame rolls and set them in the toaster oven. She busied herself, wanting desperately to infuse her encouragement with as much joy as possible. The opportunity Graham described was great. He was being awarded a chance to re-spread his wings as a chef. How could she not rejoice?

  All the same, she couldn’t meet his eyes. She didn’t want to absorb the further blow of the enthusiasm, the joy she knew she’d find in their depths. Given this turn of events, there was no chance whatsoever Ariana’s offer would be accepted. No way could Graham refuse a chance to run his own restaurant.

  “It’s an established bistro, and Atlanta is about as vibrant and inviting a city as can be imagined. Every foodie like me dreams of coming into an opportunity like this.” Graham talked while he sliced ham. Finished, he reached around Lydia to grab a brick of mild cheddar which he unwrapped and prepared to slice as well.

  Wordless, mood flat, Lydia nabbed the mayo and mustard from the fridge, grateful for the blast of cold air that took the hot sting from her cheeks and eyes—if only for a few seconds.

  “Could you please grab me some lettuce as well?”

  “Sure. There’s not much.”

  “No problem. We’ll be spare with it and make do.”

  His attitude was so ‘up’—so rejuvenated. Lydia returned to building sandwiches, still avoiding his eyes, but she kept the mask of her features as bright as possible. And, oh, was it tough. She wanted to be happy for him. She was happy for him—but still, she wanted to wither.

  “Hey, you OK?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’m fine.” Lydia winced. So much for being a poker face, but then, subterfuge had never been her strong suit.

  Graham frowned. “You don’t seem fine.” His knife cuts went still. “Is something going on? With Paulina or something? Is that why she—”

  “No, no. I don’t really get involved with business decisions here at the inn—”

  “Business decisions?”

  Lydia winced, yet again. She had spoken without forethought, or a filter. “No, no. Not business. Not, well…I mean, if Paulina wants to talk to you, and makes it seem official, it just makes me wonder if it has something to do with the inn. Kind of my default reaction with regard to the running of this place. Over the last several months she and Ari have had a lot to deal with—Lizzie’s illness and recovery, the restoration, the process of reasserting Christmas Inn’s position as a preeminent resort.”

  She knew she babbled, but added a smile to the words then went on to distract them both with details pertaining to the luncheon service to come. In tandem they polished off the meal service and prepared to serve twenty guests a deli-style lunch. All the while, Lydia struggled and stewed. Paulina. Graham. The offer. Paulina had no idea what was about to happen with regard to the upcoming meeting and her plan to make Graham the head chef at Christmas Inn. Furthermore, Lydia could do nothing to prepare her.

  He was leaving. A hot sting built in Lydia’s eyes once more, but she blinked the tears away—hard—resolved to squelch this ridiculous infatuation, attraction or whatever else it might be called. After all, these unexpected, tumultuous emotions were centered on a man she barely even knew.

  Hours later, matters turned worse when Christmas Inn received a visit from Tom Sanders, chief mechanic at the town repair shop. He strode to the front desk where Paulina waited as usual. Tom whistled while he dusted snow from the surface of his puffy goose down jacket. “Morning, Miss Paulina. I’m looking for Graham Forrester. Dropped him off here a few nights back. I believe he’s still registered as a guest.”

  Lydia’s ears perked and tingled. Web updates stalled when her fingers went still on the keyboard and she focused on the conversation.

  “Hello, Tom. Yes, indeed. Do you have good news about his car?”

  “I do at that. Received the part at my house this morning. Stopping here was easy enough since it’s right on the way to the shop. I just wanted to tell him personally that his car’ll be back in shape no later than tomorrow morning. Snow caused some delivery delays, o’course.”

  “To be expected. Lord, bless us. Have you ever seen a blizzard like this?”

  “No, ma’am, and neither have my folks and grand folks. Nasty stuff.”

  “Want me to page him, or—”

  “No, ma’am, don’t bother him, but I’d be grateful if you passed along the update.”

  Lydia’s muscles went stiff. Good news…that was a point for debate as far as she was concerned. She felt a sudden and evil itch to somehow break into Sanders Repair later today, swipe the replacement part and dump it in the nearest trash bin. Anything to keep Graham in town a little while longer. Just long enough for the simple joy and beauty of Hope Creek to take root in his heart and soothe away some of those rough edges he had been battling.

  Just long enough to give their feelings a chance to be explored.

  She tried to refocus on work, but failed abysmally. She couldn’t concentrate, didn’t even want to give present IT issues a second thought. All she wanted to know for sure was what would come next—for Graham, and for her.

  ****

  Suddenly, Graham’s world had turned upside down.

  All it took was the presentation of maybe a half-dozen or so pieces of paper, tucked into a neatly labeled manila folder placed innocuously upon the desk before him. Seated across from him, behind that desk in the office at Christmas Inn, Paulina watched him, waiting in a silence that built to awkward with each resounding tick of the nearby wall clock.

  “I’m sure this is a surprise to you, Graham. To be honest, this whole offer, this scenario of bringing our kitchen back to life, comes as a surprise to me as well.” Her gentle laughter rang and she gestured wide, encompassing the folder, the offer letter and contract spread between them. “I’m no less than confident, though. You’d be a fantastic addition to our staff, and you’d probably still be able to maintain your work with the newspaper, if you’d like. The television segments you’re doing now are more problematic due to logistics, and timing, so that would probably come to an end if you accepted the position, but—”

  “Ms. Kovacs—Paulina—this package is incredibly generous. I’m honored by this show of…of…faith, and confidence in my work. That means a lot to me.”

  She leaned back, brows lifting. “Stop right there, OK? Do me a favor and don’t even go into the ‘but’ that I hear coming at me like the bill for snow removal that’s headed my way in, oh, maybe another hour or two.”

  True enough. Beyond the window that framed the outside area behind Paulina, Graham spied a large, yellow utility truck, cab lights flashing like strobes while the vehicle crunched and scraped a path through the split service street leading
to the inn. While he watched the truck execute a smooth turn into the driveway and continue to blast its way through a daunting level of snow removal, Graham sighed.

  What was he supposed to do?

  This offer in no way competed with laying claim to his own bistro in a top market like Atlanta. But Geoff’s offer in no way competed with a call to his heart, and his spirit, to slow down, to savor life.

  To love.

  It was like was being offered two different lives, and he needed to choose the one that would fit him best.

  If only he knew which life that would be…

  “Timing, they say, is everything.”

  Paulina’s chair squeaked when she leaned forward and propped her forearms against the desk. “What do you mean?”

  “I received a call last night from a man I worked for when I first graduated culinary school. He offered me ownership of the bistro he owns, the one I basically grew up in as a chef.”

  Silence fell between them once more. Paulina’s shoulders sagged, but still she smiled, albeit with a measure of easy-to-read sadness and resignation. “You deserve it, Graham. Congratulations.”

  If only he could accept the salutation with a clean and eager heart…

  He stood, jammed his clenched fists into the pockets of his slacks while he paced.

  “When my car broke down, when I crossed the threshold of Christmas Inn, I knew my life needed redirection and a renewed focus. Clarity, I guess, on where I want to be in five years…or even ten.” He returned to the window, drawn to the rhythmic blink and swirl of the snow plow safety lights. The bulbs flashed in perfect tandem to the pulse of his heart, his longings. Lydia. Jacques. Life. Love. Fulfillment.

  Love. Was he inching closer and closer to surrendering his heart? This quickly? This completely? Nothing else could explain his temptation to chuck everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever known and expected to achieve in order to reach instead for a life spent side-by-side with Lydia.