Stuck With My Christmas Crush (Sweet Christmas Kisses)

16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Charlie

M addie didn’t seem surprised to see me at all. But the look on Jason’s face when he spotted me through the window is something I’ll remember forever. The warmth in his smile when his eyes met mine. Then, he was bashful and looked away. I could tell he was trying to be cool, but he was clearly flustered. In a good way.

Stepping in through the patio door of the old Mansion Hotel was pure magic. Just like stepping back in time. Dust sheets cover the furniture and pictures, but I get tingles at the grandeur of the place that hasn’t changed in decades.

I can appreciate how Jason is overwhelmed by the task of getting it ready for sale. He doesn’t want to be here and he’s making it hard work for himself. But I sensed that when we got the gramophone going and played ‘White Christmas’, he relaxed and even seemed to enjoy getting the old machine working for his little niece. The moment felt like heaven.

Maddie runs off to play princesses and host a pretend tea party for some royalty who are stopping by, leaving Jason and me alone by the gramophone. I feel suddenly shy.

“So, Charlie. What brings you all the way out here today?” asks Jason with reserved politeness. “Is it purely a social call or are you interested in purchasing a grand old hotel that needs a whole lot of TLC?”

“Oh. Just a social call. And I dropped off a thank-you gift. For you and Rocko. I left it on the shelf at the gatehouse. I thought you weren’t at home, then…

“You came snooping.”

“That’s right. I did.” I laugh. “I can’t help it. I’m just nosy.”

“I know.” There’s a pause then Jason says, “So, would you like a personal tour of the old Mansion Hotel?”

“Would I? I thought you’d never ask. ”

Jason shouts out to Maddie that he’s showing me around. Maddie shouts back, okay, as I follow Jason out to the main hall and reception area.

“Here we are at the grand entrance. Before it was a hotel, it was my great, great grandfather’s private residence.” Jason’s voice echoes as we begin to climb the sweeping marble staircase. “I’ve been doing a bit of digging since I saw you last. About the family. My ancestors. The people who built this place.”

“Cool. I want to know everything.”

“Well, Cedric Winston Archibald Clayton Harris made his fortune on the railroads. He was good friends with the Rockefellers who built one of their houses just down the road.” We arrive on the landing where corridors lead off in opposite directions. Ghosts of pictures that have been removed still hang on the wallpaper “They played golf together and socialized in similar circles. You know, the movers and shakers of the time, I guess.”

“Wow. That’s so interesting.” I follow Jason through an open door to a vast bedroom decorated with wallpaper covered in delicate birds and flowers. “This room is incredible.” A massive bed with a carved gold headboard dominates the space and is positioned to take in the full-length windows down to the gardens below. Luxurious swags of pale green drapes frame the view .

“Yes. And the adjoining bathroom is pretty special too,” Jason says walking toward a door in the far corner. I follow him through to where a huge white claw-footed bath sits in the middle of the room tiled in black and white ceramic designs.

“Now that’s the bathroom I want someday.”

“It’s yours. It comes with the house if you want to buy a rundown monster of a place.”

Jason shows me other rooms upstairs, then we take the servants’ stairs down to the kitchen and scullery on the ground floor. I imagine the small army of staff that must have been needed to run this place and the difference between these people and the wealthy guests they were serving.

Jason opens a door, and we descend to the basement and wine cellar.

“I’ll show you a photo of this wine cellar packed with bottles and barrels,” says Jason. “It must have been quite the party house in its day.”

“Yeah. I get that feeling.”

I’m so pleased I came here today. All my nerves from the drive up here have evaporated as my nosiness takes over. Every room is a delight. And I feel privileged to be shown around this beautiful, yet rundown property. I wonder what will happen to it after it’s sold .

“What other treasures are you finding?”

“Oh, it’s mostly just junk.” Jason smiles. “I think anything truly valuable was sold off to pay for heating bills years ago.”

“It’s great that you have time to be here, to get things organized. It’s a massive job.”

“Yeah. Well. I don’t have a contract at the moment, so I said to Meredith that I’d do whatever is necessary to get this place on the market. Then, when it sells, we’ll split the proceeds. And that will be that. And I’ll be free to continue living my best life.”

“And, excuse me for being nosy again, but what is that? Your best life.”

“Another great question, Charlie.” But Jason doesn’t elaborate, he keeps walking. “All that’s left to show you is the garage.”

“Great.”

We leave the house by the grand front door and disturb Rocko who is snoozing in a patch of sunshine on the portico step. He jumps up and wags his tail eagerly.

“Hey. What’s that you’re wearing, Rocko?” Jason is talking to his dog but he’s looking at me with a crooked smile. “Looks like a new collar.”

“Don’t you think red plaid suits him?”

“Very stylish. And festive. ”

“It’s my thank-you present. For rescuing me. In the storm.”

“Well, there’s really no need. We did what anyone would do.” Jason pats the big dog’s head. “Didn’t we Rocko?”

“And bringing gifts gave me a valid excuse to come back here and be nosy.”

“You are welcome. Any time.” Jason smiles and looks into my eyes. I want to touch his hand which is a finger distance away from mine. “You don’t need an excuse to come and be nosy.” My fingers reach out. “Just… Any time.” Jason gently takes my outstretched hand and holds it in his.

“Thanks.”

Jason doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk to the garage, a short stroll from the main house. The red brick structure makes up a square around a courtyard of workshops, stables, and other utility buildings. Jason unlocks the old wooden concertina door and pushes a portion back, which screeches with the effort of shifting. Inside, the air is still and musty. There’s a lingering odor of oil, kerosine, leather, and beeswax polish. Various cans and pots are arranged on shelving around the walls and in the middle of the space a beige tarpaulin covers a large vehicle.

“Now. This, I might keep,” says Jason with a grin as he pulls the cover from the glossy black and silver-gray panels of an enormous vintage car. “It’s a 1953 Rolls-Royce Silver Dawn convertible.”

“Oh my!” I gasp. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Yes, she is. And the motor still fires. It’s amazing that all she needs is a tune-up. And her seats need a little upholstery work, but…”

I slowly walk around the classic car, which is double the length of Bertie, at least. Enormous headlights, the size of dinner plates, remind me of a frog. And at the front is an elegant sculpted shiny figurine of a woman with arms stretching out behind her in billowing fabric.

“She looks like a fairy,” I say pointing at the little statuette.

“Ah, yes. The Spirit of Ecstasy. She’s beautiful…” Jason pauses and looks into my eyes. “Like… the car.”

I run my hands along the contours of the opulent vehicle, picturing me in the passenger seat beside Jason as we cruise along with the top down in dappled summer sunlight. I quickly shake the image away embarrassed by the clarity of my imagination.

“These machines were top of the range. Real statement pieces.” Jason laughs. “I can imagine the guys at the exclusive golf club with their big old expensive cars parked out front. Maybe the chauffeurs polishing the headlights while they wait for their bosses to finish their game and maybe seal a business deal.”

“Like The Great Gatsby .” I complete the circuit of the Rolls-Royce and stand close to Jason. “You’ll need a garage for her. Why not keep the garage as well as the car?”

“That would be fine, but I believe, from the real estate people, that everything here is going to be bulldozed for a new development.”

“No!” The word comes out stronger and louder than necessary and ricochets around the garage space launching startled flapping pigeons from the roof. “Sorry. I mean, that’s a shame.”

“That’s what happens, Charlie. You can’t be sentimental about the past. Time moves on and new takes over from old. That’s how the world is.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Jason.” I’m disappointed as if I have a claim on what I see. This place isn’t mine. Jason isn’t anything more to me than a kind man in the right place at the right time. My imagination is running away with itself. I need to rein it in and get real. “I’m sure you’ll get a good price for it.”

The grand tour is over. I turn and push the doors open then walk out of the garage, gasping like a fish out of water. I’m sad and angry that the outcome for this grand old hotel is demolition. It doesn’t seem right. Jason calls out somewhere behind me as I stride back to the main house, tears prickling my eyes. I find Maddie still playing princesses in the living room.

“I’m going now, Maddie,” I say as the little girl reaches up to hug me.

“Why? You should stay and have tea with the Duke and Duchess. They’ve just arrived from Scotland and they’re dying to meet you.”

“Thanks, Maddie, but another time. I’ve got to go now.”

Jason catches up with me in the hallway, but I can’t look at him.

“Charlie, what’s up?” he says, reaching for my arm but I pull away, shaking my head with sad disbelief.

I choke back a sob and almost run down the curved path to the gate where Bertie is parked. I jump in and drive away without looking back.