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

  She made a disbelieving sound that was somewhat like a snort. “I will likely be replaying this entire day in my head on a continuous loop until I die, so telling me not to think about it . . . yeah, not gonna work.” She folded her arms, and he recognized the self-protection measure—she was trying to sound cheerful, but she was genuinely mortified, and he needed to do something to help her move past it.

  “There is something you can do for me,” he said. “But I don’t think I should ask—it’s far worse than knocking over a display in a store.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I like the sound of this.”

  “I’m not sure I like it either, actually. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.” There was time to back out, wasn’t there?

  “No, please. Tell me what it is. Maybe it’s not that bad.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Well, I’m supposed to have dinner with my mother tonight, but I don’t really want to. That sounds terrible, I know, but it’s one of those awkward relationships. Would you be willing to come along? You’d be bored out of your mind, but you’d have a nice dinner, and you’d be saving me a ton of grief. Think of it as spreading some Christmas cheer.”

  She raised the other eyebrow. “So, I knock over a display in your store, and I’m paying you back by going to dinner with you? I think there’s something wrong with this scenario.”

  “No, nothing wrong. You’re doing me a favor—trust me.”

  She pulled in a deep breath, then exhaled. “All right, but I still think you’re trying to put one over on me.”

  Don grinned. “Maybe I am, but it’s not such a terrible thing, is it? I’ll have a carriage pick you up at seven, if that’s all right. I have to leave now or I’ll be late for a meeting, but I’ll look forward to seeing you later, Ms. Holmes.”

  He left her standing there with a dumbfounded look on her face. Way to kill two birds with one stone—he’d get to spend more time with her, and he’d have some cushioning at dinner. Mara was a little difficult to take one-on-one.

  Chapter Five

  Anna watched Don Holliday disappear through the bookshelves, making sure he really was gone before she sagged against a nearby pillar. This was a disaster—an absolute disaster. She’d just made a huge fool of herself in front of one of the Hollidays—who, she had to admit, was one of the best-looking guys she’d ever seen in her life—and she’d ruined a store display. Now she was going to dinner with this best-looking guy because she’d ruined the display. She needed a nap, or maybe a sedative. She really wasn’t sure which.

  “Excuse me.”

  She turned as one of the store employees approached her. “I’m so sorry—I’ll help clean it up. Just show me a diagram or something of where all these pieces fit.”

  The girl laughed. “Please don’t worry about it—we’ll take care of it. I actually wanted to introduce myself and see if I could help you find anything. I’m Julie, and I’m a personal shopper here on Donner Island.”

  “Hi, Julie. I’m Anna. Um . . . what’s a personal shopper?”

  Julie smiled. “I’m glad you asked. A personal shopper is an employee of the store who makes sure you leave with exactly what you came in for. I can answer any questions, help you locate merchandise, and even contact other stores to see if they have what you’re looking for. I can arrange to have your gifts wrapped and shipped anywhere in the world, or I can have your purchases sent straight back to your suite so you don’t have bags and bundles to juggle while you shop.”

  Anna was impressed—what would it be like if her grocery store back home did stuff like that? “So, you can help me find anything I want?”

  Julie smiled. “Yes, or I can help you locate it at a sister store and have it here for you by morning.”

  “Do you use drones or trained whales or . . .”

  “Something like that.” Julie’s smile became a little more genuine, a little less routine. “Dolphins are a little easier to train than whales, we’ve found.”

  They both laughed. “Thanks for the offer, Julie. I’m here with a whole list of books I’m supposed to be buying, and I’d love some help locating them.” Anna nodded toward the atrium. “I can already tell I’m going to get lost and I haven’t gone anywhere yet.”

  “Of course. I can help you in two ways. First, I can show you where to find them on the shelves, or you can give the list to me, and I’ll fill the order for you to pick up later or have shipped.”

  “Really? You’d do that for me?”

  “That’s just one of the many services we provide here at the Holliday Islands Resort.”

  Anna was starting to wonder if these employees had lives of their own. She assumed they did, but one never should assume too much. “Thank you. Let me think about it, all right? On one hand, I love to browse, but on the other hand, having you do it sounds so much more efficient.”

  “I definitely understand.” Julie leaned a little closer as if to speak confidingly. “You could give me your list, and I could work on it while you do a little impulse shopping. That’s really the only thing you can’t delegate to me—you need your own impulses for that.”

  Anna laughed. “I like that idea. Can I text my list over to you?”

  “Of course.” Julie rattled off her number, and Anna pushed send. Seconds later, Julie’s phone chimed. “We’re all set. Why don’t you take advantage of our teashop and try our latest blends, and then see what else we have to offer? Meanwhile, I’ll have this order ready for you within the hour.”

  “You have a teashop here?” Could this place get any cooler?

  “We certainly do.” Julie reached into her pocket and pulled out a small laminated card. “Just show this to your waitress and she’ll get you squared away.”

  “All right. Thank you. Really, I mean that. I can’t imagine how much time you’re saving me right now. Not to mention, all the potential for getting lost.”

  “Just be sure you put that time to good use.” Julie gave her a smile, then bustled off, already studying the screen of her phone for the list of books Anna had sent her.

  Some tea sounded wonderful. Anna hadn’t realized how much the incident with the book display had upset her until she was trying to function normally afterwards. She’d sit for a few minutes and collect herself, and then she’d explore this bookstore from top to bottom. Or maybe bottom to top. There was so much to see, she’d better come up with a system or she was sure to miss something amazing.

  The teashop was enchanting. It was exactly how a teashop should look, with white tablecloths and wrought-iron furniture that somehow wasn’t horribly uncomfortable. Pots of ivy hung from the ceiling, and sunlight streamed in through windows up above. The waitress seated her promptly, smiling as she took the card Anna handed her. “This marks you as one of our special guests,” she said. “Don’t worry—we’ll take good care of you.”

  Anna had just started to relax when her waitress returned with a huge tray. Every single thing Anna could imagine having for tea was on that tray—small sandwiches (she peeked to see if they were cucumber, and they were), tarts, cakes, cheese, sliced meat, scones (the real British ones), jam—she felt tingles up and down her arms as she looked everything over.

  “Let me know if there’s anything else I can bring you,” the waitress said, and Anna thanked her.

  It was hard to know where to begin. Anna pulled out her phone and took a picture to send Cyrus while everything was still intact because she knew once she started eating, it wouldn’t look that pretty anymore. Then she gathered up some cheese and meat together and popped it in her mouth.

  “Excuse me. May I interrupt you for a moment?”

  The sudden voice caught Anna off guard, and she began to choke. The classy older lady who had addressed her pounded her on the back while people at the surrounding tables stared—because staring is so helpful—and within a moment or two, Anna’s breathing was back under control. Mostly. People needed to stop sneaking up on her like that.

  “I’m sorry,” she rasped. “I was . . . sort of inhaling my food and when you startled me . . .”

  “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who nearly killed you,” the woman said with a smile. “My name is Evelyn Reese. I hope you can forgive me. I just wondered if we might share a table, as they all seem to be full.”

  “Of course,” Anna said, waving at the seat across from her. She was still coughing a little bit, so she took a long sip of her tea. “The more, the merrier.”

  “Thank you.” Evelyn took a seat and placed her bag on one of the remaining chairs. “The waitress was all sorts of flustered because she didn’t want to send me away, but she also didn’t have a spot for me. I knew as soon as I saw you that you wouldn’t mind sharing—you have that friendly look about you.”

  “Friendly, but also not to be trusted in public,” Anna told her, still wishing she could crawl under the table and die from embarrassment. “My name is Anna Holmes. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You too.” Evelyn looked at the tea service with interest. “Oh, this is lovely.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” Anna motioned to the cucumber sandwiches. “Do you know how many times in my life I’ve wanted to be in a British novel eating cucumber sandwiches? I’ve made them at home and chopped off the crusts—trying to be fancy, you see—but it’s just not the same.”

  “And here, you can imagine that anything is possible.” Evelyn smiled warmly, then turned to the approaching waitress. “I’d like what she’s having.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Reese.” The girl scurried off, and Anna took advantage of the distraction to blot the last remaining tears from her eyes. She wasn’t one of those girls who could cry—or choke—delicately. She was the red-eyed, red-faced, red-nosed kind—which was fitting, considering that
the islands were named after reindeer.

  “I have a confession,” Mrs. Reese said when she turned back to Anna. “I’m not actually a guest here.”

  “You’re a stowaway?” Anna asked, grinning.

  “No, although that would be exciting.” Mrs. Reese leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I’m an investor, and I’m considering coming on board with this resort. Would you mind telling me how you’re enjoying your stay so far, and if you’re likely to come back? If you don’t feel comfortable answering, forget I said anything, and we’ll just sip our tea and chat.”

  “I’m not sure I’m the best one to give you feedback—I only arrived last night,” Anna said. “But so far, everything’s been wonderful.” Well, except for knocking over the book display and nearly choking to death. This lady wouldn’t be interested in those little details, though, so she’d leave them out.

  “And do you think you’ll be back?”

  “Oh, definitely not,” Anna replied before realizing how that would sound. Mrs. Reese seemed startled by her answer, so she hurried to explain, “I’m only here because my boss sent me. I could never afford to come on my own.”

  Mrs. Reese smiled. “I understand. You must have a wonderful boss, though.”

  “I really do. At first, he only hired me to catalogue his private book collection, but soon, I was staying to read to him or just chat. He’s an older gentleman who doesn’t have much strength left, and all his entertainment comes from his books and his visitors.”

  Mrs. Reese raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re not just here in the bookstore by chance—this is where your heart led you.”

  “Absolutely. In fact, I think you could drop me from an airplane in the dark, with a parachute, blindfolded, and I’d still find my way to the nearest bookstore.”

  Mrs. Reese laughed, then thanked the waitress as her own tea was brought. “My goodness. I’ve never felt so treated in my life.”

  “Just don’t choke,” Anna advised her, and Mrs. Reese promised she wouldn’t.

  After they’d each taken a few bites, Mrs. Reese asked, “So, are you here by yourself, or did you bring a significant other?”

  “I’m by myself. There’s no one I’d want to bring with me—well, except Cyrus, my boss, but he’s too ill to travel.”

  “Not even a boyfriend?”

  “No, not for a long time. I think reading has made me too picky—I’m constantly disappointed in real-life men for not being more like the heroes in books.”

  “Oh, how well I know that feeling, but in my case, I’m disappointed in men for not being more like my deceased husband.” Mrs. Reese smiled, looking wistful. “He was a fireman who was killed in the Twin Towers, and I’ve never met a man who could ever hope to be his equal.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Anna said, instinctively reaching out to touch the other woman’s hand.

  “It’s been difficult, but I was blessed to have him as long as I did. And how many women can say they were married to a real hero?” She picked up her napkin and dabbed at her eyes. “Now, enough about me. I don’t imagine I’ll ever marry again, but you—you’re so young and full of life. What are your plans for the future?”

  Anna shrugged. “I’d like to get married. It’s not something I think about a lot because I’m happy with my life as it is, but if the right guy were to come along, and if he fit into my groove, sure.” Don Holliday suddenly popped up in her mind, but she pushed him to the side. He wasn’t even remotely the right guy. He’d never be content to curl up in a corner with a novel and a quilt—it would wrinkle his suit.

  “I like that about you, Anna. You’re looking for someone who fits into your groove—that shows a lot of confidence in who you are.”

  Anna almost choked again. “Um, no. I’m about as far from being self-confident as you can imagine. I just know what I want, and I know that I couldn’t be happy with someone who didn’t understand that.”

  “We might interpret things differently, but to me, that sounds pretty confident.” Mrs. Reese glanced at her watch. “Oh, no. I’ve been running late all day and I haven’t stopped yet. It was so nice to meet you, Anna, and I hope to bump into you again sometime.”

  “You too, Mrs. Reese,” Anna replied.

  “It’s Evelyn. Once I’ve pounded someone’s back, we’re on a first-name basis.”

  Anna grinned. “All right. See you later, Evelyn.”

  The investor gave a little wave as she walked off, and suddenly Anna’s table seemed very quiet and boring.

  She took another sip of tea, then opened the book list on her phone and scanned the titles she hadn’t yet asked Julie to gather. She really wanted to find something amazing for Cyrus—a first edition or a limited print run, something that would make his eyes sparkle the way they did when he was really pleased with a new find.

  “Ms. Holmes?”

  She looked up to see a young man standing at her side holding a small gift bag. He was dressed like an old-fashioned messenger boy, and she smiled. “Yes?”

  “A delivery for you. Have a nice day.” He handed her the bag and was gone before she could reply.

  She peeked between the tissue folds in the sack, but couldn’t see much, so she slid the contents onto the table. There was an envelope inside, along with a small box of Godiva chocolates. She’d never pass up chocolates.

  When she opened the envelope, she found a note folded around a gold credit card.

  Ms. Holmes,

  I hope you’ll allow me the pleasure of treating you to an afternoon of pampering before dinner. The spa on the main floor of your hotel is expecting you at three o’clock, and you’re invited to peruse any of the shops on the island for the outfit you’d like to wear tonight. It’s the least I can do—you’re my saving grace.

  It was signed Don Holliday with a flourish.

  She blinked a few times. What? She was going to dinner to pay him back for knocking over the display—he didn’t owe her anything. Now she was expected to take this credit card and go shopping? Granted, she’d been a little concerned that the dress she’d borrowed from Nell might not be nice enough for dinner with the owners of the resort, but she’d figured she’d make it do. Now she knew she’d have something nice enough, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. It all seemed . . . well, over the top, especially when she’d only met Don an hour ago and they’d only spoken for a few minutes.

  She was likely overthinking this. Again. Because that was something she did. She’d go shopping, choose something pretty but moderately priced, and enjoy herself. The little hints Don had dropped about his mother made her all the more curious to meet the woman, and if it was too terrible, she’d order a fantastic dessert to balance out the night. Then she’d get back to her real reason for being here—book shopping. Lots and lots of book shopping. She couldn’t let herself get distracted by hot rich guys and fancy dinners and afternoons at the spa. Books were the most important thing, and always would be.

  Chapter Six

  “Thank you for sharing your thoughts, everyone. I look forward to continuing the traditions we’ve established here on Donner Island and maintaining our reputation for excellence, and I know everything is in good hands with you at the helm.”

  Don brought the meeting to a close and shook hands with all the clothing store managers who had attended, then closed the door of the boardroom and sank into a chair. He had worked on Donner Island as a teenager—he and his brothers had all contributed on their islands. It was part of their father’s way of preparing them for their futures in his empire. But Don’s job back then had been nothing like this. He’d been a clerk for a while, and then he’d assisted one of the buyers in choosing merchandise for the store. Now he had a finger in every pie from marketing to HR to the handling of sales tax. Thank goodness each store was run by quality managers who had been here a long time and knew what they were doing.

  If any of them resented him stepping in, wet behind the ears, to oversee them, none had shown it. Instead, they’d each done as he’d asked and brought a portfolio with a list of their concerns about their stores and suggestions for how to improve. They’d also brought a profit and loss statement from the last quarter. He’d spend some time that weekend learning the various programs on the computer that tracked those things for the resort, but for now, he’d function best with paper.