Donner Let Her Go (Holliday Islands Resort Book 7) Page 5

  He gathered up the portfolios he’d been brought, then closed the boardroom door behind him and took the elevator up one floor to his penthouse. Couldn’t beat the commute between home and work, that was for sure. He set the pile he was carrying on the credenza, then loosened his tie.

  “Betty, please tell Hugo’s that I’ll be there for dinner at seven fifteen and I’ll have two guests. Then please arrange to have a carriage pick up Ms. Holmes and another to pick up my mother, both at seven, but not the same carriage, all right? Two entirely separate carriages.” He cringed to think of Anna meeting his mother without some sort of bodyguard detail in place.

  “Of course, Mr. Holliday,” Betty replied.

  He kicked off his loafers in the closet, then glanced at his watch. He had two hours before dinner, two hours all to himself . . . but not really. He needed to read over those portfolios, particularly the one from the Cuddle Up Company. That store carried children’s pajamas, and Molly, the manager, had asked him to review and approve some proposed budget changes. He’d much rather take the time to write the outline for his next chapter, but he knew his tendency to lose track of time . . .

  He exhaled. Loudly.

  “Just trying to make you proud, Dad,” he said aloud.

  “I don’t believe your father is present, Mr. Holliday,” Betty said. “Would you like me to call him for you?”

  “No, thanks, Betty.” Don chuckled. He wasn’t used to having someone—er, something—listening in all the time. “Why don’t you take a break until I need you, all right?”

  “All right, Mr. Holliday. Commencing sleep mode.”

  She went quiet, and Don chuckled again. She might pretend to be asleep, but she was still listening with at least half an ear, ready to spring into action. He hadn’t had any such thing at his cabin on the sound, and while he found her immensely useful, he also missed his solitude.

  He changed into some sweats and a T-shirt, then got himself a glass of Pepsi—lots of ice—to drink while he looked at the Cuddle Up portfolio. He was only on the first page when his phone buzzed.

  He grinned when he picked it up—a group text from his brother Dash.

  Is Dad driving you all crazy too, or am I the only lucky one? I’m about ready to set him adrift in his yacht just so I’ll get some peace.

  Within seconds, all the brothers were chiming in with their own horror stories. They’d each accepted the summons to come home with varying degrees of acceptance and reluctance, and it showed in their replies. Don had always known he’d be expected to come home at some point, so he’d simply packed up and come. He didn’t like the interruption to his writing, but this was the inevitable, so he saw no reason to fight it.

  Dad’s driving me nuts, but Mom’s the one who’s really getting under my skin, Nick replied.

  Don’t make me nervous. I’m having dinner with her tonight, Don typed.

  You have my sympathy, Cupid added.

  They commiserated for another few minutes, then Don set down his phone. He hadn’t spent nearly the time with his brothers that he wanted to since they’d been back. Maybe he should throw a party to bring them together, but that would take some coordinating. They were all so busy getting back in the resort life groove, he didn’t know when they’d be free.

  Dissatisfied with that answer, he picked up the phone again. Hey, anyone want to meet me for tennis in the morning? Seems I owe a few of you some tushy kicking.

  After a long, hot shower, Don felt ready to shift gears from work to pleasure. At least, that’s how he was choosing to see his dinner date. He’d focus on the pleasure of seeing Anna Holmes again and not worry about the stress of seeing his mother. And maybe he’d be surprised. Maybe Mara Holliday had softened some in the months since he’d seen her last—maybe he was getting himself all edgy for no reason.

  And maybe pigs could fly . . .

  He mentally shut that door and concentrated on getting ready. One day at a time—that was all he could handle, really. He couldn’t predict the future, so he certainly couldn’t attempt to control it.

  When he was ready, he rode the elevator to the main floor of the hotel and crossed the expansive lobby, his shoes clicking on the gray-and-white marble.

  “Mr. Holliday, sir,” the maître d’ said, welcoming him with a slight bow. “We were delighted to hear that you’d be joining us tonight.”

  “Thank you.” Don was still a little surprised that everyone knew him on sight, but he realized he shouldn’t be—his father had probably given the entire resort a briefing on the takeover and what to expect from each of the nine brothers. “Have either Ms. Holliday or Ms. Holmes arrived yet?” He didn’t think they had, but he wanted to be sure.

  “No, sir. You are the first.”

  “I’ll wait for them by the front doors.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Don took up his stance near the doorman, his nerves running overtime. He was looking forward to seeing Anna again—probably more than he’d anticipated anything for a while. There was something about her that made him feel interested in life again—life outside his writing. He’d often felt that if he could disappear into a realm of his own creating and only return for occasional visits, he’d be perfectly happy, but if there were more people like Anna in the real world, perhaps his opinions would change.

  A few minutes later, a carriage pulled up in front, and his heart skipped a beat. Then he saw that it was his mother, and he tamped down his rush of disappointment. Reminding himself to stay positive, he stepped forward and took her hand as she stepped down.

  “Don!” she exclaimed as soon as both feet were on the ground. “Don, I can’t believe you’re actually taking a moment to have dinner with me. I’m so flattered.”

  “Hello, Mom.” He leaned down and gave her a quick hug. “It’s good to see you too.”

  “When you cancelled on me yesterday, I wondered if that’s how it was going to be—you avoiding me, me feeling all alone and abandoned.” She tucked her arm through his. “I’m sure you have excellent reasons for it, though.”

  “I do, in fact. Yesterday was my first full day as head of Donner Island, and I had a lot to take care of.”

  She sighed. “This resort just sucks the life out of everything, doesn’t it? Always some task to be fulfilled, some meeting to attend . . . That’s one of the reasons why your father and I divorced, you know. I’m just not meant to be a businessman’s wife.”

  “You certainly enjoy the alimony checks, though,” Don said lightly. It was no secret.

  “Of course! Who wouldn’t?” She laughed and patted his arm. “So, are we waiting for someone else? Why aren’t we going inside?”

  “I do have another guest coming. She should be here any minute.”

  “A young lady, maybe?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Mara lifted an eyebrow. “You realize that anyone you marry has to pass my scrutiny. I can’t have my boys marrying just anyone—and that goes for your stepbrothers, too.”

  “We know, Mom.” Mara had made her feelings very plain, and she wasn’t shy about adding to them whenever she liked. It made Don less eager to get married—at least, that’s why he hadn’t pursued it more than he had. “Oh, here she comes now.”

  When the second carriage pulled up, Don left his mother under the awning and stepped forward to give Anna a hand. He’d wondered if he’d exaggerated her beauty in his imagination, but no, she was just as pretty as she’d been earlier at the bookstore. He helped her down, then gave her hand the slightest squeeze before letting it go. “Thank you for coming.”

  “You’re welcome. Is that your mother by the doors? What’s her name?”

  “Mara Holliday.”

  Anna nodded, then stepped forward, extending her hand. “Hello, Ms. Holliday. I’m Anna Holmes. It’s so good to meet you.”

  Mara looked her up and down. “It’s nice to meet you too, Anna. I’ve heard exactly nothing about you.”

  Don closed his eyes. Not even five seconds, and he was already regretting this. He was surprised to hear Anna laugh, and he looked at her sharply.

  “Well, you know how it is, Ms. Holliday. Best-kept secrets and all that.” Anna turned to Don with a smile. “Shall we go in? It’s getting a little chilly out here.”

  He noticed the temperature for the first time and felt sheepish. “You’re right. Let’s go in. Mother, Ms. Holmes.”

  The maître d’ greeted them again as they approached the restaurant and led them straight to a semi-private alcove on the west side of the building, one that had a tremendous view during the daylight hours. It was too dark now to see much of anything, but Don filled in the details with his memory.

  “Allow me to take your wraps,” the maître d’ said. “And shall I tell your preferences to our wine steward?”

  “Of course,” Mara said, tossing him her coat. “Anything wet and expensive.”

  “Do you have a preference, madame?” the man asked Anna.

  “I don’t drink, so whatever Ms. Holliday wants,” she replied. She slipped out of her wrap and handed it to him as well, then turned to Don with a smile as if asking him to appraise the outfit she’d chosen.

  And appraise it he did. She wore a stunning sheath dress in peacock blue—he recognized it from his tour of the clothing shops that afternoon as being part of the Zac Posen collection exclusive to the resort. It wasn’t one of the more expensive pieces they carried and he wished she’d spent more on herself, but she looked beautiful, so he couldn’t complain too much.

  Once they were all seated, Mara turned back to Anna. “So, how long have the two of you been seeing each other?”

  “Since this morning,” Anna replied.

  “This morning?” Mara looked skeptical.

  “Yes, that’s right. You might say that she had quite an impact on me.” Don took a sip of his water, his throat suddenly dry.

  “And what do you do, my dear?” Mara held up a finger. “No, let me guess. You look like an artist of some sort—perhaps a singer or a dancer. Julliard?”

  “Boise State University,” Anna replied. She seemed completely unaffected by Mara’s condescending tone.

  “I’m sorry—where?” Mara blinked. “I’ve never heard of such a place.”

  “It’s in Boise, Idaho, where I’m from. I studied library sciences.”

  Don’s ears perked up. “So, you’re a librarian?”

  “I am. That’s how I came to be in the bookstore this morning—I just can’t stay away.”

  He grinned. Booklovers all carried a certain aura about them, a magnetism that drew them together with an irresistible pull.

  “I can’t imagine that being a very lucrative career,” Mara said. “No wonder you’re interested in my son—he stands to inherit quite a large sum of money, I’m sure you’re aware.”

  Don sucked in a breath.

  “No, I’m not aware,” Anna replied. “As I mentioned, we met only this morning, and I generally save my questions about someone’s prospects until the second date.”

  The words themselves were definitely enough to be a zing, but her tone was so light, it was hard to know how to react. Don watched his mother’s face. She didn’t seem to know whether to retort or to laugh, so she settled on a tight smile. “Aren’t you a clever one? I suppose that’s what all that reading will do for you.”

  Don felt terrible. He shouldn’t have asked Anna to come along—he’d thought she might help water his mother down, not become Mara’s target. He’d only been thinking about himself, making selfish decisions. He was about to stand up and offer to take Anna back to her hotel when she leaned forward a little.

  “Actually, the thing I’ve gained most from reading is an appreciation for other people and their points of view. I don’t have to agree with someone in order to treat them respectfully, and I don’t have to like someone to find something we have in common. Nor do they have to like me.” Anna smiled, her features soft and welcoming. “Let’s find some common ground, Ms. Holliday, and maybe we’ll discover that we do like each other after all.”

  Mara opened her mouth as if to protest, but instead, she studied Anna’s eyes. Don remained frozen in place, worried that the slightest movement from him would topple this delicate balance. Anna had built a bridge between the two women, a delicate bridge made of frost and ice, and it would be up to Mara what became of it. Finally, she said, “I like your necklace.”

  Anna’s smile widened. “Thank you. The salesgirl told me the dress wasn’t complete without it, and she had someone from the jewelry store bring it over so I could try them on together. Can you believe that? Those Hollidays—they really know how to take care of their customers.”

  Mara laughed, a full-throated, genuine laugh, and by the time the food came, the women were chatting away like old college roommates. Don kept looking back and forth between the two of them, confused and yet grateful at the transformation in his mother. Was that what she’d been needing this whole time—someone who was willing to meet her where she was and build from there? And how had Anna sensed that so quickly?

  “Don, Anna tells me that she’s never tasted a truffle,” Mara said, turning to him and breaking his reverie. “Can you believe it?”

  “You’re not missing much.” Don chuckled. “It took a full cup of coffee to get the taste out of my mouth when I tried one, and I’ve never repeated the experience.”

  “I think she should have this little bit here from my plate. Just so she can say she’s done it.” Mara used her spoon to lift a shred of truffle from the top of her filet. “For the sake of experience.”

  Anna looked at it cautiously. “I’m not sure . . . You say it’s bad?”

  “Oh, no. It’s luxurious. It sits on your tongue and feels like money.” Mara’s eyes twinkled.

  “It’s horrible. It tastes like dirt, and I don’t know why it’s considered one of the world’s finest delicacies.”

  “Hush, Don.” Mara flapped a hand at him. “You’re going to talk the girl out of giving it a try.”

  “Someone has to talk me into it first,” Anna retorted.

  Mara looked contemplative. “How about a bargain? You taste the truffle, and I’ll leave the two of you to finish your dinner alone.”

  Don was startled that she’d even consider it. When they’d meet for dinner in the past, she’d insist on every minute she could get and often made him late for other obligations.

  “Are you sure? This is your time with Don,” Anna said.

  Mara waved her off. “Now that Don’s back at the resort, I’ll get to see him much more often. I do have a way of showing up from time to time. So, what do you say?”

  Anna glanced at Don, then took the spoon from Mara’s outstretched hand. “All right,” she said. “But only because I can’t resist a good challenge.”

  Don held his breath as Anna lifted the spoon to her mouth, hesitated, then ate the flake of truffle that had been resting on the edge. Mara leaned forward a little, equally as curious to see the girl’s reaction.

  Anna seemed fine, but then a shudder raced down her back, and she flinched. “That . . . wasn’t delicious,” she said at last, and both Don and Mara laughed.

  “I never said I actually like them,” Mara replied. “I just like the feeling they give me. I like feeling expensive.”

  Anna shook her head. “I tell you what. All the truffles are yours, and you can feel as expensive as you want. I really don’t mind feeling twelve dollars for a large Santorini’s pizza.”

  “You know, Miss Anna Holmes, you’re all right.” Mara gave her a smile, then pushed back her chair. “I’ll keep my promise and leave the two of you to enjoy the rest of your meal.”

  Don stood as well. “Are you sure, Mom? I thought we were having a nice visit.”

  “It was a very nice visit, and that’s why we should bring it to an end—leaving it on a high note, as it were.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then turned to accept her coat from the maître d’. The man knew his job well—he must have been keeping a sharp eye on their private dining area. “I’ll call you later, Don. Anna, I wouldn’t mind running into you again sometime before you leave.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that either, Ms. Holliday,” Anna replied with a smile, and then she and Don were alone.

  Chapter Seven

  Once Mara was out of earshot, Don exhaled. “That . . . I’m completely at a loss for words. That was the most pleasant dinner I’ve had with my mother since I was a teenager.”

  “Really? I’m sorry to hear that,” Anna replied. “I’m glad tonight went well, though.”

  He grinned at her across the table. “I have you to thank for it. My mother seems to have two kinds of effects on people. Either she intimidates them, or they let her have her way to avoid potential drama. She didn’t have either effect on you. What’s your secret?”

  Anna laughed. “I don’t have a secret. I just don’t like it when people try to impose their will on me.”

  “You handled it a million times better than I could have imagined.”

  Anna took another bite of her lobster, then placed the silverware across the top of her plate and sat back to regard him. “Your family’s a little complicated.”

  “A little?” Don raised an eyebrow. “More like, a lot. Nine brothers from two different mothers—one deceased and one divorced—all the different personalities involved, each of us wanting more from our lives and trying to find a balance between what we want and what our father wants. . .” His voice trailed off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload on you. I’ve just been trying to sort through the pieces of the puzzle in my head and they came tumbling out.”

  “No, don’t apologize. I think better when I verbalize things too.” A smile quirked the corner of her lips. “The ladies at the salon were very friendly.”

  “That’s good. You should have received the very best care there.”