The Christmas Inn. Stella MacLean

leaned back against the wall and enjoyed the look on Scott’s face. Her brother had problems with any conversation he didn’t control. Scott wasn’t mean. He was constantly thinking ahead to the next step in his plans, and thus he didn’t have much patience for small talk. Not surprisingly, it didn’t take him long to interrupt Shane and ask a couple of pointed questions concerning the contract.

      “Shane, you don’t have to answer,” she said hurriedly, wanting to block Scott’s interrogation of her friend.

      Shane closed his mouth and sank his neck into his turtleneck. “That’s right, I don’t,” he confirmed, his eyebrows rising to meet his hairline.

      “Shane, would you excuse my sister and me for a couple of minutes?”

      With an expression of resignation Shane rose from the chair. “I’ll be in the salon going over the renovation plans,” he said, giving Marnie his “chin up, kid” smile as he walked past her out the door.

      “You have yet to sign, and he’s already going over plans?” Scott asked, disbelief evident in his tone.

      “They’re old blueprints Shane and I had considered a couple of years ago. He and Gina are going to revisit them and see if they’re feasible for the expansion they want to make.”

      “This Gina person is certainly moving fast.”

      “That’s their business, not mine. What’s the family’s problem with me selling to Shane?”

      Scott scooped up the agreement Marnie had carelessly left lying on the desk and took his time reading it before he answered. “We want to be sure you’re being paid fair market value for the business and this building. And that Shane hasn’t slipped in a noncompetition clause that would stop you from working as a hairdresser once you leave here,” he muttered. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing at the page.

      “What?” she asked, refusing to glance at the page.

      “You can’t work in Boston as a hairdresser?”

      “We agreed it was only fair. My client list and the goodwill I’ve built up in the city are part of what he’s buying beyond the physical assets,” she said, exasperated with Scott’s attitude.

      “Marnie, I’m your brother, and I don’t want—”

      “Scott, will you leave it alone?” she said, struggling to remain calm. After all, her brother did have his good qualities; the problem was she couldn’t remember any of them at the moment.

      Still clutching the agreement, Scott leaned against the ancient file cabinet in the corner. “Okay, you take this to your lawyer, and you sign it. What happens the day after you sign? What are you going to do with your life?”

      “Run away to the south seas? Go on safari for a few weeks?”

      “Get serious. You must have a plan.”

      “I’m working on that. Please tell Mom not to worry,” she said, thankful that he was still concentrating on the agreement and couldn’t see the uncertainty in her eyes. Her family always looked for reasons to freak out over what she was doing and how she was doing it. She understood their concern in the beginning. Two major surgeries she’d had to undergo, one when she was eight to fix a heart defect and one when she had a serious car accident fifteen years ago, had given her family reason to worry. But not anymore.

      Scott placed the document on the desk before turning his intense gaze on her. “Tell you what. Angus McAndrew, the CEO of Advantage, you remember him, don’t you?”

      Scott once worked for Advantage Corporation in their PR department. “He’s the guy who got me in to see that superrenowned orthopedic surgeon in New York after my car accident.”

      “Our family owes Angus a lot. I’m convinced that without his help, you wouldn’t have had such a complete recovery.” He smiled down at her, warmth showing in his eyes. “Even though I left his company to start my own business, he and I have stayed in touch. He has a property in the Berkshires, The Mirabel Inn, and he’s going to put it up for sale. But before he does, he needs a business survey of the region, which one of my staff is working on, and he wants to know that the inn has no operational issues that could derail the sale. He’s asked me to hire a mystery guest right away as he has a potential buyer for the inn and he wants to make the kind of pitch the purchaser can’t resist. You’ll work the three days prior to Christmas, all expenses paid. All you have to do is fill out a bunch of forms. Shouldn’t be too stressful,” he said.

      Ever since her car accident fifteen years ago and her difficulties with her rehabilitation, her family had kept a close eye on her. In those first months after the accident, she had desperately needed their help and support. Now, years later, it felt more like they simply wanted to run her life. “Why do it right before Christmas? A mystery guest? What does that mean?”

      “Angus is a perfectionist, and he leaves nothing to chance. He’s also very driven, and when he wants something, he goes after it. If he wants to sell this property he’ll do it Christmas Day if he has to. As for being a mystery guest, it means you behave like a regular guest, and the management doesn’t know who you are or what you’re doing there. Meanwhile, you collect information for me on how the inn functions, based on questionnaires the company will provide. Before you leave here, I’ll give you the questionnaires so you can read them over to know what aspects of the inn to evaluate. Once you’ve completed an area, such as the spa or the bar, for instance, you enter your responses online, and then email them to me on a daily basis. I’ll take care of the rest. I’ll be in touch with you each day to see how you’re making out with the survey, and we’ll take it from there.”

      “I don’t like sneaking around, trying to get proof that someone isn’t doing something right. Besides, why would I want to go north where it’s cold and I don’t know anyone?”

      “Because you need time to think before you sign this agreement.”

      “I can sign my agreement without going off alone to someplace cold first,” she said, feeling she’d got him on this one. “I don’t need to go away to think about my future.”

      “Well, I need you to think about my future and the future success of my company. Angus McAndrew is offering my firm a chance to do work for him, based on how well I handle this project, and how quickly. I need your help.”

      She blinked. “My help? Why me? You must have dozens of people you could order to go to the Berkshires.”

      He peered at his hands for a couple of minutes. “Peanut, you’re the one person I know who has the expertise to evaluate the inn’s hotel operations and its spa on such short notice.”

      Scott must really need her help if he was using the old nickname he’d given her when she was a kid with a leaky heart valve. He’d been so sweet to her back then. She had to admit that with his drive and encouragement her recovery had actually been kind of pleasant. He’d been so good to her, so full of fun ideas to help her forget that she’d just been through major surgery. She owed it to Scott to help him.

      “Okay,” she said “But there are conditions.”

      “Name them.” He eyed his cell phone.

      If she stayed at this inn, she’d be free of all the family pressures involved in getting ready for Christmas. That alone would be fantastic. But there was another equally attractive reason to do it. Despite what she’d said to Scott, she did need to escape for a little while. She’d put so much effort into proving that she could run a successful business that she’d neglected herself in the process. Thanks to her brother she was being handed an opportunity to relax and evaluate her life.

      “I want you to tell Mom and the rest of the family that you’ve sent me on an urgent assignment, and I won’t be back until Christmas.”

      “What? Mom won’t believe that.”

      “Why? It’s the truth.”

      With an exaggerated sigh, he said, “Yeah,