Donner Let Her Go (Holliday Islands Resort Book 7) Read online

  “And what time would you like to be served?”

  She really didn’t want to get up at the crack of dawn, but she knew that a lot of hotels stopped serving breakfast after a certain time. “Is . . . is ten o’clock all right?”

  He gave a slight nod. “All our room service options are available twenty-four hours a day, Ms. Holmes. We’re here for your convenience.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “How else may I make your stay more comfortable, Ms. Holmes?”

  She glanced around the room. It was absolutely stunning—white furniture, gray carpet, glass and chrome fixtures, crystal vases of calla lilies here and there, eight pillows on the king-sized bed . . . “I can’t think of anything,” she replied.

  “There’s a welcome basket on the coffee table for you, and if you need anything, simply press this button.” He indicated the button just below the light switch. “I will be with you instantly. My name is Fredrick, and I’m your personal concierge for the remainder of the night.”

  Anna glanced at her watch. It was nearly two in the morning. “Wow. You mean, if I need another pillow and I push this button, you’ll come running?”

  “Yes, Ms. Holmes. Would you like another pillow now? I’d be more than happy to get one for you.”

  She laughed. “No, eight is more than enough. I was just using that as an example.”

  His shoulders relaxed, and she saw that he’d been tensed up, ready to dash off for that new pillow. “If you think of anything, Ms. Holmes, just let me know.”

  “I will, Fredrick. Right now, I just want to go to bed.”

  “Would you like me to turn down your covers?”

  She was starting to feel a little claustrophobic with all his hovering. “Fredrick, can I be honest with you?”

  He seemed surprised. “Of course, Ms. Holmes. Please, tell me what’s on your mind.”

  She wasn’t sure how to put it, so she jumped right in. “You’re a wonderful young man and I’m sure you’re just doing what you’ve been trained to do, but . . . maybe you’re doing a little too much, at least in my case. I’m a super-simple girl from a super-simple place, and I’m totally good without so much extra help.”

  He seemed bewildered. “Are you sure, Ms. Holmes?”

  “Absolutely. You can go now—I’m just getting ready for bed.”

  He nodded. “All right, but don’t forget to push the button—”

  “I will not forget to push the button.”

  He gave another nod and ducked out the door, pulling it closed behind him with only a whispered click of the latch.

  Anna exhaled. If that’s what it was like to be waited on hand and foot, she’d pass. Her reservation paperwork said that all gratuities would be added on to the final bill—she hoped Fredrick and his fellow private concierges made enough in tips to thank them for their above-and-beyond diligence.

  She walked into the closet to find her suitcases . . . and literally walked into it. The thing was the size of her bathroom back home, with more hangers than she’d ever be able to fill during her stay. Fredrick had placed her suitcases on some folding luggage stands to the right, and she found her pajamas without too much trouble. They looked even rattier in these surroundings, but they were her favorites, and she couldn’t imagine getting rid of them. She brushed her teeth at the small sink in the alcove just outside the bathroom, and then she climbed into the bed.

  Heaven, heaven, heaven.

  With a grin, she rolled over and pulled the duvet under her chin. She was going to sleep very well on Donner Island.

  When Anna woke up the next morning, she lay in bed and stretched, feeling the smooth caress of the sheets on her arms and legs and the cushiony softness of the mattress against her back. If she never left this bed for the entire duration of the trip, she’d consider it time well spent. Of course, she had promised to bring Cyrus some books . . . she wondered if there was a way to smuggle this bed out of the hotel in one of her book bags.

  Everything about the hotel continued to be way over the top. Her breakfast order had sounded simple enough, but it came with six waffles, four eggs, a carafe of orange juice, three kinds of syrup, a dish of fresh fruit salad, another dish of Greek yogurt . . . it was crazy. Her bathroom had both a shower and a jetted tub, and the floor tiles were heated. “I guess if you’re rich enough, you never have to have cold feet,” she muttered as she dried off after her bubble bath . . . with bubbles from her welcome basket.

  Dressed in one of Nell’s outfits and with her hair dried and curled, Anna grabbed the map of the resort that lay on the end table next to the menu. It looked like Donner Island was broken up into shopping districts—that would make things easier. Her hotel was in the clothing district, and the bookstore would be two streets north. That sounded simple enough.

  She pulled the door to her room closed behind her, then checked the lock just to be on the safe side. She couldn’t help it—she was a compulsive lock checker anyway, but everything in that room was so nice . . . She shook her head at herself. The hotel probably had better security than the White House.

  The doorman greeted her politely when she stepped outside and asked if she’d like to take a carriage ride to her destination.

  “A carriage ride?” she asked. “Like, with a horse?”

  His mouth twitched, but he must have been told not to smile at the guests’ silly questions. “Yes, ma’am.” He held out his arm to indicate a horse-drawn carriage, complete with driver, standing there waiting for her.

  Anna worried her lip.

  “Is something wrong, ma’am?”

  She glanced around, then took a step closer. “What if I want to say yes, but it seems kind of wasteful when I’m only going two streets?”

  This time, the man did chuckle. “It’s not wasteful, ma’am. In fact, you’d be doing Tony a kindness. He’s all harnessed up with nowhere to go.” He nodded toward the horse, who shook his head and made the bells on his halter jingle almost as if on cue.

  “I guess I can’t leave poor Tony standing around with nothing to do,” Anna replied.

  “That’s the Holliday Islands spirit, ma’am!” The doorman nodded to the driver, who gave Anna a hand up into her seat.

  She hadn’t thought it was very cold that morning, but as the carriage began to move, a breeze flew down her neck, and she pulled the collar of her borrowed coat even closer. She forgot about the cold almost immediately, though, as her attention was pulled in by the shops they passed. Every sort of clothing she could imagine was sold here, and as they went farther down the street, she saw shoe stores and then jewelry stores. Each shop was designed to reflect what it carried—an outerwear shop had a log cabin façade while a children’s clothing store looked like Babes in Toyland.

  The bookstore was absolutely everything she’d dreamed it would be. It was built after the style of a grand old English department store, something she’d expect to see in London—if she’d ever been to London. She almost expected to see Louisa May Alcott and Tolkien and C. S. Lewis come walking out, their heads close together as they discussed the latest brilliant ideas they’d had.

  “Ma’am?”

  She blinked. The driver had brought the carriage to a stop and was waiting to help her down. “I’m sorry. I was just distracted.”

  “No worries. You have a pleasant time shopping.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  She climbed down and stood on the sidewalk, pulling in a deep breath. This was it—the store she’d traveled so far to visit. She just hoped it would live up to Cyrus’s expectations and wouldn’t be the disappointment of his life.

  Chapter Four

  The meeting with the store managers had gone well the day before, but with so many managers and just one Don, he’d become spread too thin pretty quickly. He had asked to adjourn until the following day, when he would meet with one group of managers at a time. Everyone seemed agreeable to that, and he arranged a meeting with the clothing store managers for one o’clock. Then he called and canceled his dinner with Mara. She made her disappointment plain, but he needed some time to organize his notes on everything he’d learned that day, and she wasn’t the person you wanted to hang around with when you were trying to be organized.

  He’d arranged his notes in a nice leather folder, putting some effort toward looking like he knew what he was doing, and he’d spent that morning going over the list of employees at every store and familiarizing himself with their names and positions. There were too many to memorize completely, but he got the department heads down before it was time for his meeting with Mr. Forbes.

  That conversation had been pretty interesting—much more than Don had thought it would be. Mr. Forbes brought a large folder showing the security plans for each and every building on the island. He even had blueprints outlining the emergency exits and the placement of the cameras. At first, Don was afraid he was about to be shown every single blueprint for every single building, but Forbes, as he preferred to be called, chose just one store as an example and explained their basic plans for various contingencies ranging from shoplifting to active shooters. Don was seriously impressed, and said so.

  And now it was time for a break. He needed some quiet, a way to soothe the buzzing in his head. Without even thinking about a destination, he left the restaurant where he’d eaten with Forbes and headed down the sidewalk. It only took him a moment to arrive at his favorite place at the Holliday Islands Resort—the bookstore.

  He stepped inside and inhaled. Books . . . thousands and thousands of books. The combined smells of paper and ink greeted him like long-lost friends, and he closed his eyes and smiled. This was his happy place, his nirvana. He could face anything as long as he spent enough time surrounded by books.

  H
e walked to the back of the store and hung up his coat in the office, greeting the manager and saying hello to the cashier on his way. Then he slowed his pace to a casual meander, forcing his racing thoughts to settle as he absorbed the images on the covers, the fonts, the neat rows, everything as it should be, worlds waiting to be discovered.

  “May I help you, Mr. Holliday?” One of the sales associates had approached when he wasn’t paying attention.

  “No, thank you . . .” He glanced at her name tag. “Julie. I’m fine.”

  “It’s a pleasure to have you here in our store, sir. If you need anything, please let me know.”

  He nodded. “I’m just looking around at the moment. I’ll tell you if that changes.”

  She gave him a bright smile and scurried away. She reminded him of a little Christmas mouse, and the thought made him grin. The Holliday family took Christmas very seriously—not that anyone could blame them.

  He turned another corner and found a cozy nook where their guests could sit and listen to samples of newly released audio books. He settled into an upholstered chair and chose a thriller by one of his favorite authors. From that vantage point, he could see the entrance to the store and the checkout counter, the smiles on everyone’s faces, the way the store windows let in just enough light without being blinding. This would be the perfect spot to kick back and relax.

  He had just started to doze, lulled by the peaceful atmosphere and the sonorous voice of the narrator in his headphones when he noticed a young woman enter the store, and he was suddenly wide awake. She had long blonde hair with slight ringlets at the ends, and she was pretty enough to make any man stop and stare. What caught his attention, though, was the way she walked in. She paused and inhaled, just like he had when he’d first entered. Then she opened her eyes slowly and smiled, looking like a cat on catnip.

  Don chuckled. Is that what all bibliophiles looked like when they entered a bookstore? He’d never given it a second thought, but he’d be willing to bet on it.

  He continued to watch her, wondering if she’d continue to be impressed by the place. The employees had done a fantastic job of decorating for the holidays without going overboard. Tasteful touches of greenery and ribbon peeked out here and there, nothing obscuring the books or making it difficult to find what people were looking for. Gentle music played in the background—he believed that was Bach for the cello at the moment.

  She walked along the first row, her fingers trailing along the edges of the shelves, not touching the books but somehow seeming to greet them. She hadn’t lost that catnip look—instead, it only seemed to intensify. As she passed out of Don’s line of sight, he took off his headphones and followed her, rumpling up the hair on top of his head and hoping the headphones hadn’t left one of those tell-tale indents. He was probably being a little creepy, the way he was chasing after her, but he couldn’t help it—she was fun to watch.

  She came around the corner and stopped as abruptly as though she’d run into a wall. She’d just spotted the atrium—she gawked and gazed upward at the floors upon floors of books rising above her head like a stairway to literary heaven. He could almost see her mind spinning, trying to decide where to start.

  “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Don said, coming up behind her. Probably time to stop being creepy and introduce himself instead of watching her from a distance.

  She whirled around, obviously startled by his voice, and her arm flung out and caught the edge of a book display next to her. Unfortunately, those books had been stacked to resemble a Christmas tree, and knocking one out of place caused a domino effect. She only glanced at him for a second before spinning back around, trying to catch books as they cascaded to the floor.

  “Oh, no,” she cried out as more fell. Don stepped forward and tried to help, wrapping his arms around the base of the display so they wouldn’t lose the whole thing while she frantically pushed and grabbed and shoved.

  “It’s no use,” she said after a moment. “I’ve just ruined it—I’m going to get thrown out of the store and I’ve only been here a few minutes.”

  “I doubt you’ll get thrown out of the store,” Don replied. He slowly let go and stepped back. The young woman’s arms were full of the books she’d tried to catch—and she was dropping those as well.

  Julie came up behind her just then, obviously alerted by the chaos, and was ready to say something when Don shook his head at her. She nodded in understanding and backed up, all right with letting the boss handle the situation, which Don appreciated. He supposed that being a famous face around here had its perks—he didn’t have to explain himself nearly as much as he would otherwise.

  The young woman didn’t seem to notice his exchange with Julie, which was another nice thing. Instead, she was intent on not dropping her load, and he reached out to help with that as well.

  “Let me take the ones on top,” he said, hoping that would give her the ability to balance the rest.

  “I just . . . I just can’t believe I did that.” Her cheeks were bright pink. “I’m sure I ruined every one of them—they can’t be sold now, not with banged-up corners.”

  Don turned one of the books to show her the side. “These aren’t real books—they’re extra covers that have been glued onto blocks of wood for the display. No harm done.”

  “What? They’re fake?” She looked at the book more closely, and the tension in her shoulders visibly eased. “Thank goodness. I thought I was going to have to reimburse the store for this whole thing, and that would have taken me clear up to retirement.”

  Don set down the fake books he was holding, then took a few more from her hands. “They should have made the display more stable in the first place. I’m sure they’ll be more careful when they reconstruct it.”

  “You’re nice to take my side.” She set the last books she held on top of his stack. “You must think I’m some hick from the country who’s never been anywhere classy before . . . well, that’s just about true.” She laughed, and he liked the sound. “Honestly, can you believe this place? The people who shop here on a regular basis must be richer than snot to afford it.” She paused, a look of horror crossing her face. “And you’re probably one of their regular customers and I just offended you, didn’t I? I’m sorry—I’m just a little rattled.” She waved her hand at the crumbling display.

  “I’m not offended,” he replied, enjoying her blunt honesty. “I’m just trying to figure out how rich snot is.”

  “I can’t believe I said that.” Her cheeks became even more pink. “I think I’ll just stop talking now. It would be better that way.”

  “Where are you from, Ms. ...?"

  "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Anna Holmes, and I’m from Boise, Idaho. First time here, as we’ve painfully discovered—most likely my only trip here, actually.”

  “Why is that? Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “I’m enjoying myself a lot when I’m not destroying things and embarrassing myself. It’s just that this trip was an assignment from my boss—more like a gift, really—and things like this don’t generally happen for me.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here now, and I hope you get the chance to visit all the islands. They’re each being renovated in some way or another right now, so they’re even more fantastic than they were before.”

  “I’m not sure I can handle much more fantasticness. It makes me clumsy.” She nodded toward the display again, and they both laughed. “I’m sorry—what was your name?”

  “Don.” It was tempting to leave off his last name entirely or make up a fake one—he’d enjoyed being anonymous for a few minutes. But if watching her from behind a bookshelf was creepy, lying about who he was would be even creepier. “Don Holliday.”

  “Holliday? Like . . . like the family who owns this resort?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Oh, boy.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I’m officially more embarrassed than I’ve ever been in my life. I can’t apologize enough, Mr. Holliday—please, let me help put this display back together or something. Mop the floors … do you have any plants that need to be watered?”

  He laughed. “No, Ms. Holmes, I do not, and you don’t have to make up for anything. Like I said, this display should have been stabilized in some way, and I’m just glad the whole thing didn’t come crashing down on your head and injure you. Please don’t think another thing about it.”