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Holiday Man Page 16
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Honestly, without Shannon greeting him at the inn when he came to Door County, or maybe sitting beside him in the car as he drove up, he knew he’d never come back. It would be too painful. She was the reason he made the trip. She might not ever believe that, but it was the truth.
As for spending time with her outside of their holidays at the inn, he sincerely didn’t know what it’d be like. They’d only had that one weekend in Madison to base the experience on, and it hadn’t been as smooth or as successful as he would have liked. But, if she wasn’t willing to try something like that again, what could he do?
He wandered around in the wintry briskness for hours. But even though his arms swung freely by his sides as he trampled down the snow-covered streets, he couldn’t help but feel as if his hands were firmly tied behind his back.
***
Shannon could tell that the news she’d shared with Bram was tough for him to take. To his credit, though, he was being extremely mature about it and was handling the changes better than she’d expected. She knew there was still tension between him and Jake—enough that she hadn’t even considered telling him about Jake’s “big idea” yet—but Bram didn’t criticize her assistant. At least not to Shannon’s face.
Oddly, though, the fight seemed to have drained out of him. He wasn’t acting competitive or proprietary with her. He wasn’t rushing to make any unrealistic promises or grand romantic gestures. Bram was just respecting her wishes and seeming to enjoy this last bit of time they had together before she left Holiday Quinn and the patterns of their relationship inevitably changed.
Which was what she’d wanted from him, wasn’t it? To no longer be angry with each other but, also, for her to finally have the freedom to travel and reboot her life?
Well, he was giving that to her without a single battle but, it turned out, that wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted after all.
She’d hoped, perhaps, that he’d insist on traveling somewhere exotic with her. That he’d want to share in her adventures—not just give her his blessing in seeking them out. That he might chase her a little…and not merely tell her to “look him up” if she ever came back.
Foolish and childish of her, she knew.
But, just because she realized her desires were a bit irrational and contradictory, it didn’t mean they weren’t genuine. She’d never had the opportunity to make any such life-changing choices before. She supposed she had a lot yet to learn about herself.
Jake, however, was living up to her fantasy-boyfriend role with startling intensity.
Of course, he had some freedom from career responsibilities that Bram did not, since Jake was taking a three-month leave of absence from both the inn and his music-store job—starting in mid-January—to backpack through Europe and the Middle East. He’d urged her repeatedly to join him for as much of it as she was willing to share, particularly once the transition of the inn to the Bakers was completed on February first.
“So, imagine this,” he told her. “We could meet in Madrid. Make a circular loop around Spain, including Seville, the Costa del Sol, Toledo, Barcelona and a little excursion to Majorca. Then, we’ll go by Eurail through the French Riviera into Italy and take in the sites there—Venice, Florence and Rome for sure. Skip down to Palermo, Sicily for a cruise that’ll take us to Athens, the Greek Isles and various stops in Turkey, Egypt and the Holy Land…”
He painted an incredibly tempting picture and made her feel as if she could almost see herself there. That they could explore these fascinating and foreign regions together like kids on a field trip.
Then again, there were a few locations that could be at least as dangerous as they were intriguing. Did she know enough to wander around cities like Cairo or Jerusalem without getting herself into trouble? Jake was a very bright guy, but he’d never been to any of these places either. How would he know what to do to keep them safe?
Margaret Ashland had said she thought Jake’s feelings for her were real. If that was actually true, had Shannon been unknowingly leading him on? Encouraging him to create a dream vacation he knew she’d love? Or, perhaps, could it be he was the right man for her after all?
She sighed. No.
As convenient as that might have been, her heart disagreed. It was Bram she’d unwittingly fallen in love with…but, unfortunately, despite his professions of love, he didn’t seem to want her nearly as much as she’d hoped.
***
The Bakers were beside themselves with both delight and a hint of inebriation.
“Yoo-hoo, you two!” Darlene said enthusiastically, jogging up to Bram and Shannon in the lobby and tugging on their sleeves until they swiveled around to greet her. Darlene’s husband, Keith, was just a few steps behind, carefully balancing a tray with drinks.
Bram glanced at Shannon, who was absolutely radiant that night, clad in a dazzling silver dress that shimmered and reflected every fragment of light in the place. But she smiled at the older couple with a slightly unsettled look—a gaze filled with at least as many mixed emotions as the number of liquors used in Holiday Quinn’s signature New Year’s Eve drink recipe.
“I see you’ve made tonight’s first official batch of the Bing Crosby Cocktails,” Shannon said, nodding toward Keith’s tray, which held about a dozen martini glasses. In each there was sparkling golden liquid garnished with orange slices and a bright red cherry.
“We tasted them ‘til we were one-hundred-and-fifty percent sure we’d gotten the recipe right,” Keith said with a noticeable slurring of syllables. “But we wanted you two to try the first ones we’d perfected.”
“You’re both going to be so ready for this changeover at the end of next month,” Shannon said with love, admiration and a touch of sadness in her voice.
Darlene squeezed her arm. “If only we could do half as well as you, dearie. And you’d better not be a stranger. We expect to see you both back here.” She shot them a significant look then handed each of them a martini glass. “Drink up, lovely friends! It’s New Year’s Eve and the champagne will be flowing soon, too. Say farewell to the old year and hello to the new one.” The older lady encouraged them both to “let the celebrations begin.”
Bram had no sooner taken his first sip of the specialty cocktail when there was a loud squeal across the room, followed by an even louder shout. “YES!”
The Bakers, Shannon, Bram and, in fact, every single person milling around the lobby all turned to star at the squealer. A woman who looked to be in her mid- to late-twenties. And, right in front of her—bent down on one knee—was a man about her age, who leaped up, lifted her and spun her around.
“Whew!” he cried. “She said ‘yes,’ everybody! She’s gonna marry me. She’s gonna marry me!”
An immediate cheer rose up and everyone clapped for the newly engaged couple. The Bakers scurried toward them to hand the joyous man and woman celebratory drinks. And Shannon studied the scene before them wistfully.
“Wow,” she said, seemingly unable to take her eyes off the young couple. “Imagine that. Beginning your life with someone.”
Bram watched her wander over to the pair to offer her congratulations as well, knowing he’d do the same in a few minutes when there were fewer people crowding around them. For the time being, though, he just thought about Shannon’s comment. Oh, yes, he could imagine that. For the first time in, perhaps, his entire adult life, he really could picture beginning it with someone—provided that someone was Shannon.
When midnight came, he was alone with her in a sea of over a hundred Holiday Quinn revelers. Waltzing face to face on the jammed dance floor, they enjoyed the last minutes of the old year before the countdown to the new one was set to begin.
“I’ve been thinking about your trip ideas,” Bram said, though it cost him something to sound so unruffled about it. “I’ve gotten the sense that you might already have some, uh, plans for after February first. And I—I don’t want to interfere with those.” He took a shaky breath. “But I do want to make sure you’re saf
e and able to get in touch with me or with…anyone who cares about you.” He pulled the smart phone out of his pocket that he’d snuck away from the inn to buy her yesterday. “So, I got you this.”
He explained some of the special features and ways it could prove to be a useful tool abroad. It had GPS tracking and satellite-image maps if she ever got lost or needed directions. It had a calculator for computing currency exchanges. Internet accessibility, of course, to directly check on flight times or train departures, museum openings and closings, the cost of dining or theater tickets.
“And I have a list of some of the most popular sites in Spain, Italy, Greece and throughout the Mediterranean. Places that I think are really worth a visit. Plus, I’ve also included a few spots you might want to avoid unless you’re with an experienced guide.”
He watched as she read through his lists—wide-eyed and with a sense of innocent wonder. Damn, he wanted to protect her so much. Not “acquire” her. Be there for her. But she said she wanted her freedom, and now wasn’t the right time to chain her to his side when she needed a chance to run carefree and wild, if that was what she really desired.
“Best of all,” he said, “it’s got an international phone plan, so if you ever need help with anything at anytime, you can reach me in an instant. I’m on speed dial, see?” He punched in a couple of digits and, immediately, his own phone in his jacket pocket began to ring. He showed it to her. “Shannon calling,” the face of his iPhone read, while the ringtone was a somewhat heartbreaking electronic version of “Leaving on a Jet Plane.”
He saw her swallow a few times. “Thank you,” she whispered, holding her new cell phone tightly and Bram even more so. “I promise I’ll always carry it with me.”
“Good,” he replied. “Then it’ll be kind of like me being there with you.” And though he didn’t say this aloud, to himself he added, Keep me close to your heart, Shannon. And come back to me.
She looked like she was about to say something more, but the crowd suddenly began to chant, “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”
“Already?” Shannon asked, glancing at her watch in surprise.
Bram nodded, grabbed champagne flutes for them both from a passing waiter and joined in on the countdown.
“Six, five, four, three…”
Shannon laughed, gazed warmly at him and chimed in as well.
“Two, one. Happy New Year!”
Then, amidst the sounds of noisemakers from the crowd, they kissed—a long, deep, passionate kiss—and broke apart, breathless.
He raised his champagne flute just as “Auld Lang Syne” began to play and everyone else began to sing. “To the people who touched our lives in the year that past,” he said.
She raised hers, too, and added a toast of her own—one that caused a twinge of pain in the vicinity of his heart.
“And to new beginnings for all of us,” she said before clinking glasses with him and stepping back. Thus, taking her first steps of the New Year in a direction away from Bram.
***
Shannon kept the fingers of one hand wrapped about the phone Bram had given her. It was safely out of sight, in her pocket, as she officially checked him out of the inn the next morning. But it gave her comfort to touch it. Like a talisman. She didn’t want to let go of it, and she didn’t want to let go of Bram either.
“Be safe on the drive back,” she said to him, trying hard to keep from crying. The month ahead was going to be insanely busy, and she knew there would be no time for get-togethers, even if he could to slip away or meet her somewhere for a weekend. She missed him already but, given the unlikelihood of them seeing each other again anytime soon, he really was no longer hers.
“I will,” he promised. “I’ll be thinking about you.”
Then, with a final and very quick goodbye kiss, he was gone.
Shannon heard Jake exhale audibly next to her. She turned to look at him. To see if he was doing it deliberately—there was certainly no love lost between the two men.
But, no, it seemed to be an unconscious thing, much the way that Bram’s neck and shoulders always seemed to stiffen when her assistant would walk into the room.
Which was why Bram’s non-competitive behavior over the past week had perplexed her and had, ultimately, played a part in her decision to just let their relationship drift quietly away. She’d never liked it when he would fight with Jake over her for attention, but it was far more unsettling when he didn’t.
He’d just let go of her.
But, she realized suddenly—again feeling the smooth phone in her jacket pocket—it wasn’t that he didn’t care about her. He’d made that clear enough. It was because, as with any standard board game, like chess or checkers, it was actually her move. She just didn’t know which one to make…
Jake interrupted her thoughts. “Wanna grab some lunch after we’re done with the morning checkouts? I could really go for a cheeseburger. I know it’s the last thing I should have on New Year’s Day, especially after my vow not to eat so much red meat this year.” He laughed. “But a man wants what a man wants.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.
She smiled at him weakly in return. “I avoided New Year’s resolutions altogether this year. That’s the only way I can make it through January first without breaking any.”
The latest cluster of guests had just stepped away from the front desk, so it was only the two of them remaining in the lobby. Jake glanced around and took an obvious step toward her. “Really?” he asked. “No resolutions? No special promises?”
She shook her head.
“What about commitments?” he said. “Any of those…with, say, someone like Bram Hartwick?”
She shook her head again, feeling the sadness at her memories with him sweeping over her.
A grin slid over Jake’s face. “He’s a big fool, Shannon. You can do better than him. You deserve better. Anyone with half a brain would know never to just let you go.”
And, suddenly, Jake was right in front of her—his arms around her shoulders, his lips pressing against her cheek, then her jaw, then her neck and, finally, at the corner of her mouth. She was disoriented by it and didn’t quite know how to react for a few seconds but, eventually, she managed to step away and stutter a question. “Wh-What are you doing?” she asked him.
“It’s my second resolution of the New Year. To win you over once and for all.” He paused, took a deep breath and added, “I’m crazy about you, Shannon. Don’t tell me you don’t know that. Everybody here knows it. And you’ll see. With a little time and distance from this place, everything will look clearer to you. You have choices. Where you wanna live. What kind of work you wanna do. Who you wanna date…”
He gazed deep into her eyes—very seriously, she noticed, for the first time in a long time. She could feel his intensity and his utter sincerity. He wasn’t joking around in the least.
She swallowed. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she had to say something. “Jake, look—”
“No,” he blurted. “Please don’t. Don’t say anything now, not if you can’t say yes to me. Okay? We’ve got time together planned. Take it. Please take it. I’m going to Europe in a couple of weeks, and I’ll be there to meet you whenever you arrive. The closing date for the sale of the inn is the morning of February first—and you were planning to fly to Spain on the second. I’ll be at the airport in Madrid waiting for you, Shannon. If, after even one week, you don’t love it and love being with me, then tell me and I won’t stop you from leaving. I promise.”
Too many people making promises to her today, she thought, but she held her tongue and let Jake finish.
“You can travel alone after that,” he said. “Or take a train to somewhere else with a hot Spaniard. Or fly back home…whatever you want. Just give it a chance.” His green eyes pleaded with her.
And because she didn’t have Bram beside her to remind her heart of how passion felt, because he’d let her go…just as she’d asked him to…and because all of the changes
in her life had left her feeling unmoored, with no direction, no compass, no sense of where she belonged in this incredibly huge world—or with whom—she said, “Okay, Jake. I’ll give it a chance.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Valentine’s Day…Again
The grounds of the Alhambra were gorgeous.
Even in early February, the Andalusia region of southern Spain was temperate and beautiful, and this famous, decorative palace of the Moors was especially so.
Shannon admired the architecture of the buildings, the stunning arches and intricate detailing. She breathed in the fresh air and delighted in the natural loveliness of the gardens. And she felt the late afternoon Granada sunshine warming her skin. A winter’s day that was fifty degrees! Hard to imagine that happening too often in Wisconsin.
Such a different climate. So much ancient history. A completely unique cultural experience and, yet…yet, she was the same Shannon Quinn. No matter how far from home she’d traveled, she couldn’t seem to leave herself or her memories behind.
She’d brushed off the post-holiday blues by keeping energetically busy with the sale of the inn to the Bakers, but then she’d come to Spain.
Jake, true to his word, was waiting for her. And, well, even when the two of them went sightseeing until they’d nearly dropped from exhaustion, she wasn’t able to escape her thoughts and emotions indefinitely. Something would unexpectedly remind her of Holiday Quinn or her favorite guests or her friend Margaret…or Bram.
It was nine o’clock in the morning back in the Midwest. What was everyone back there doing right now?
About a half hour into the palace tour, Shannon couldn’t rein in her curiosity any longer. She slipped away from the group and from Jake’s watchful eye, and she punched in a series of numbers on her phone.
“Yes?” Margaret Ashland’s distinctive voice said from some 4,200 miles away.
“Miss me yet?” Shannon asked.
The older woman chuckled. “It’s great to hear from you, honeybunch! What do you think of sunny Spain?”