The Albright Hotel (A Frosty Season #4)

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

O livia thought she’d misheard him. “I beg your pardon?”

“I asked if you wanted to come to my cottage tonight,” Harry repeated. He wore that sensational smile and touched her hand over the table. It was late, and they were still at the wine bar although they hadn’t ordered anything in hours, and the server had begun to look at them like when are you leaving? What had they been talking about this entire time? Olivia tried to remember, then realized it had just been Harry, talking and talking and talking about himself.

It wasn’t the worst date she’d been on. But it also wasn’t anything to write home about.

Did she really want to go back to his cottage?

“You have a cottage?’ she asked with surprise, to give herself time to think.

“I do. It’s made of stone, if you can believe it. It’s like something out of a fairy tale.” His cheek twitched. “I thought I told you about it.” He looked hurt.

Olivia took a breath. It was very possible that Harry had told her about the cottage. It was very possible that she’d been too distracted to remember.

She felt guilty. So she said, “Let’s go see it.”

Olivia and Harry had taken separate cars downtown after their work shifts at the hotel. Harry said he could take her, but Olivia said, “I have to wake up early for work tomorrow.” In truth, she wanted an escape plan, just in case she was ready to leave before he wanted the date to be over.

Why am I going with him? she wondered as she drove behind him through the dense night. Am I bored? Am I hurt? Do I just want someone to love?

Why does anyone do anything?

On the radio was the Christmas song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” It tugged on her heartstrings. She thought of all the Christmases in the past—Christmases she’d spent alone, gazing out the window as a soft snow fell. Sometimes she hadn’t even bothered to put up a tree.

Life can change in the blink of an eye.

Is this how I want it to change?

Olivia followed Harry down a long, skinny path, then parked her car beside his and got out. It was true that his stone cottage was like a Christmas fairy tale. It was almost too perfect, with a Christmas tree decorated on the other side of the central window and holly and garlands and string lights everywhere.

It was cute to think that he’d decorated the place himself. He wasn’t a Christmas cynic. That was clear.

“Wait,” Harry said, hurrying up to flip the switch. He illuminated the entire house, then came down to wrap his arms around her.

Olivia knew he wanted to kiss her, but she kept herself at a distance. “It’s amazing,” she breathed. Because it was.

“Come on in.” Harry guided her down the walkway to the front door.

She followed him into a cozy interior with a soft blue sofa, that Christmas tree, a rickety dining room table, and a kitchen out of the 1950s.

“I didn’t buy the cabin. Just renting,” he explained. “If I buy something here in Hollygrove, I’ll fix it up and buy the furniture I really want.”

He looked at her like, maybe you can help me with that process?

Olivia looked at the floor. She was nervous.

Just tell him you’re not into this. Tell him you just got your heart broken. Tell him you always rush into everything and want to stop doing that. You want to heal.

Instead, she accepted the glass of wine he handed over. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” He sat on the sofa and gestured for her to join. “Please.”

Olivia sat and folded her legs beneath her. She didn’t want to cuddle against him. He looked at her expectantly, and she knew she had to say something. But what?

“You know. I didn’t mention it before, but I’m so stressed out.”

Harry made a face of pity.

“Running a hotel is maybe the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she said. “Maya and I are constantly in over our heads. There’s too much to do, and it feels like half of what we do goes wrong.”

Harry frowned and touched her thigh. It took Olivia every bit of willpower not to move away from him.

“I’ve worked in a lot of inns and hotels,” he said. “There’s always a difficult onboarding period. You’re in that period now. But you have to keep your chin up.”

Olivia sighed. “I know you’re right. But it’s easier said than done.”

She was pushing it, trying to find a way out the door without admitting that she didn’t want to be with him. Why hasn’t he met someone else yet? There are plenty of beautiful women at the hotel!

“You know, I majored in business once upon a time,” Harry said.

Olivia arched her eyebrow in surprise. “Did you?”

Harry’s eyes were animated. “That’s right. It was before I followed my dream to culinary school. My father was really against pastries, obviously. He thought there was no money in that kind of thing. He said he would only honor my decision to go to college in the first place if I studied something ‘practical.’” Harry used air quotes.

For the first time, Harry felt like a normal human being to Olivia. Her heartbeat slowed.

“Where did you go?” she asked.

“I went to the University of Massachusetts,” he explained. “It was a pivotal time. Eighteen years old, away from home. Nobody in my family had ever been to college before. I thought I could really make something of myself and prove it to my father. But of course—surprising nobody—I failed out my sophomore year.”

Olivia placed her hand over her mouth. She could feel the disappointment etched into Harry’s handsome face.

“It wasn’t because I was bad at business,” Harry assured her. “I understood what was going on in lectures. I understood my homework and wrote my papers. Being away from home at such a young age was just too difficult. I was nineteen and brokenhearted. I missed my mother.”

Harry’s face fell.

Olivia wondered if this was some kind of performance. But then she cursed herself. He’s opening up to me. Hear him!

“What happened after that?” Olivia asked.

Harry sighed. “My father wouldn’t let me move back home, of course. He wanted to rub my failure in my face. So I got a job in Boston, working at a hotel.”

“In the kitchen?”

“No. I did everything,” Harry explained with a laugh. “They called me the jack-of-all-trades. But true to my original dream, I was able to shadow the chefs in the kitchen. They took a liking to me and taught me things here and there. I loved the kitchen’s fast pace. I loved the fact that you could make something artistic that would disappear in just a few minutes.” Harry snapped his fingers. “I saved my money and eventually applied to culinary school.”

“That’s an incredible story,” Olivia breathed.

Harry laughed and rubbed his thighs. “I don’t usually share the origin story of my life.”

“Why not?” Olivia asked.

“It’s too personal,” Harry said after a pause. “I don’t want to frighten anyone away. My family was dirt poor. My life was in shambles. And I’ve had to claw my way to the top.” He pressed his lips together. “I told myself I would do anything to make my career work. I would do anything to prove I wasn’t a loser to my father.”

“It looks like you’ve won,” Olivia said.

Harry held her gaze for a long, soft moment. She felt sure he wanted to kiss her again. And it was probably the right time. He’d just shared a generous story from his past. He’d just given her a piece of his heart.

But there was something about him. Something jagged and dark that she didn’t want to touch.

“I’d better get going,” Olivia said suddenly, pretending to stifle a yawn. “Like I said, I have a big day at work tomorrow. So much stress in the hotel industry!”

Harry watched her get up. He grimaced, then stared into his glass of wine. His expression made Olivia pause before proceeding to the door.

“I want to say something,” Harry offered quietly. “Something that somebody told me a long time ago. A piece of advice.”

Olivia’s adrenaline spiked. She hadn’t asked for his advice.

But he was a man. A handsome man. Which meant he thought people wanted to hear what he had to say.

He raised his head to look her in the eye. “You have to find it in yourself to trust people. Sooner rather than later,” he said.

Olivia flared her nostrils. I trust Maya, she wanted to say.

But she couldn’t bring herself to.

She put on her coat and headed to the door, abandoning her glass of wine. Her eyes filled with tears as she fled. “Thanks again for the lovely time,” she said, her voice breaking.

Harry hurried to see her out. “Remember. I took all those business classes back in the day,” he said as she hurried down the walkway. “And I’ve worked in more than a dozen hotels. I'm all ears if you want to run anything by me.”

Olivia waved her hand and slid into her car, turning the key and driving away as quickly as she could. She didn’t want him to see her when she burst into tears. But here they came—hot and salty and big, falling down her face and drenching her shirt.