Under The Mistletoe. Kristin Hardy

to her chair without a word, resisting the urge to rub her hand against her thigh.

      “And what does happen next?” he asked calmly.

      “Changes. We’ve got to assimilate the hotel into the Stone organization.”

      “I see.”

      It was like being out on the water when a squall swept through, changing everything from sunny and warm to blustery wind and churning seas in minutes. It wasn’t a surprise to her that he was unhappy about it all. What was a surprise was how deeply the diamond-hard anger in his eyes cut.

      Not that what he felt would change anything, of course.

      Gabe crossed to the hallway door and closed it, his expression taut. Still, his voice remained even as he returned to his desk. “Stone Enterprises? As in Whit Stone?”

      “My grandfather. He left the company to my father, Robert Stone.”

      “Nice to get that cleared up,” Gabe said pleasantly.

      “Excuse me?”

      “Whit passed away five months ago. For five months, I’ve been stonewalled by the lawyers every time I’ve tried to find out just who’s responsible for the property besides me. All it would have taken was a letter.”

      Hadley smiled. Payback for the night before was about to begin. “WSI is a multibillion dollar corporation. This hotel represents a fraction of a percent of the whole. First things first. You were on the list when we could get to you.”

      “Which is now.”

      “Exactly. My job is to bring the property up to speed.”

      That got to him, she saw. “If you’ll look at the books, you’ll see the property is making a profit and showing revenue growth year over year. We’re in good shape.”

      “Not as far as we’re concerned.”

      “What’s the problem? We’ve been operating in the black for the last five years,” he said, a faint edge in his voice.

      “That may have been adequate under my grandfather’s ownership. Not anymore. We expect double or even triple your profit margins from our holdings.” Or Robert did, anyway. “I’ve looked at your balance sheets. You’re not even close to target.”

      “How about that.”

      Hadley stared at him a moment. “Don’t mistake how serious this is.” She opened up her portfolio and pulled out a printed sheet. “Fortunately, we should be able to meet the numbers with the right approach. I’ve been making notes. You’ve got some unnecessary amenities that are driving up costs. They can go.”

      “Really.” Gabe leaned forward with interest, propping his chin on his tented fingers. “And they would be?”

      “Flowers in the rooms, for one. It’s a nice touch but a waste of money.” As a guest, she might want to keep them; as a Stone employee with targets to meet, she couldn’t afford to. “Stick with flowers in the public areas only.”

      “I see. Go on, please.”

      The other night he’d embarrassed her personally. Now he was trying to do it professionally. “All right. Your dinner portions could probably shrink, you could reduce the menu options,” she said, her tone intentionally dismissive. “The food is more exotic than you need. Skip the lobster and seared tuna, stick to lamb and sole. For that matter, your breakfast buffet is far in excess of what it should be.”

      “What it should be?” He let a beat go by. “I assume you’ve got hospitality experience to support these directives?”

      She leaned forward, resisting the urge to bare her teeth. “Let me make this clear. I have bottom-line experience. As far as you and I are concerned, that’s all the experience I need.”

      “You don’t think you need to understand an operation before you wade in demanding wholesale changes?”

      Hadley snapped her portfolio shut. “I think some of the changes required are obvious, but to answer your question, I’m not coming in here on the fly. I spent three weeks reviewing major chain hotels and compiling a database. Almost across the board you’re spending dollars on services, amenities and staffing that they don’t. Your rooms are twice the size of a conventional room, which we can use to double the hotel’s capacity once we can afford to spend money on construction.”

      Gabe straightened, his eyes sparking with temper. “In case you haven’t noticed, we are not a major chain hotel. We offer a totally different value proposition to a very different guest. Our client base is about couples and romance.”

      “At least part of your client base is corporate, particularly during the week,” Hadley corrected. “They’re not looking for romance, they’re looking for value.”

      “If they wanted that, they’d find a big chain hotel. They’re here because of the location, because we offer that something extra, the luxury that the others don’t. Your cost-efficiency models don’t apply.”

      “That’s what you think. We succeed with new acquisitions because of our skill in finding and applying the right models.”

      “Stone focuses on light industry and high tech, right? What was the last operation you managed?”

      She glared at him. “Becheron Minerals.”

      “Mining.” He nodded. “It’s got a lot in common with hospitality.”

      “You’re about to find out how much, Mr. Trask,” she snapped. “If you’re lucky, that is. I can read a balance sheet and I can formulate a business strategy to address problems. And one of the problems I see here is the manager.”

      “You think the hotel’s exhibiting signs of mismanagement?” His tone would have made anyone he knew take care.

      “I think the manager’s exhibiting signs of bad judgment. Failing to recognize and deal with new fiscal realities, for one. Getting excessively familiar with the guests, for another.” Her voice rose as she spoke. “You have no business running around incognito, playing up to guests. You’re the ultimate representative of the hotel. We expect you to act like it.”

      “Running around incognito?” His tight control slipped a notch. “What about you, coming in here without telling anyone who you are or why you’ve come? A professional would have called ahead instead of playing games. And as to talking with you, I’m the manager, it’s my job to put guests at ease. I saw someone who looked lost and unhappy, and I came up to try to help. I would have done it with anyone. It just happened to be you.”

      The blood drained from her face. “I’d suggest you curb your friendly impulses going forward, Trask.” She fixed him with an icy stare. “And before you say a word about the other night, remember who you’re talking to.”

      He stared right back at her. “And who is that, Ms. Stone—the new manager?”

      “No, the head of the transition team.”

      “And where’s the rest of your team?”

      “I’ll know that when I find people who can get this hotel to stand up to inspection.”

      “My operation does stand up to inspection and the revenues have always stayed to plan. If we’re not up to your numbers it’s because your grandfather was happy to put almost every penny of profit back into the hotel, trying to bring it back from where it was when he bought it.”

      “And that’s the first thing that’s going to stop until your margins get to where they belong. When we’ve got money for construction again, it’ll go to cutting room size.”

      “Are you out of your mind?” he demanded, rising to his feet. “You can’t stop renovations on a building like this. Do that and she’ll be falling apart in a year. This is a national historic landmark. It’s a public trust.” It was as though a house cat had suddenly transformed into a dark,