Christmas At Prescott Inn

“Yes.” She nodded and stepped on the accelerator as the SUV started up the steep mountain road. “The ice rink also sets us apart from our competitors in the hotel market.”

That was what he needed to hear about. “How so? Tell me about your research. What did you find out about our competitors’ activities? What are their plans for the Christmas season?”

“Well...” Nell smiled enthusiastically, clearing her throat. “I checked our closest competitors, the resorts you suggested I look at.” She paused while they waited for a logging truck to go rumbling past. When it was safe to do so, she cautiously turned right. The road wound a short way up the mountainside.

“And?” he murmured, paging through the consultant’s report to the end, where all the maintenance numbers were located.

“And...they all provide shuttle-bus access to the local downhill ski resorts. But we don’t do that.”

“We can’t,” he said. They had offered the service last year, and the cost hadn’t justified the benefit. Besides, in Nathan’s experience, their guests didn’t ask about skiing until after the New Year.

“Yes, I know.” Nell curled a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “We have to cut expenses.” She glanced sideways at him. “However, Uncle, while the two top resorts offer sleigh rides for the kids, they also set up portable outdoor skating rinks in the winter.”

He remained silent. He would ignore the skating rink reference for now. Rob was right—it was an excellent place for him to cut electricity and insurance costs. “Tell me, do our competitor resorts charge extra fees for the sleigh rides, or is the access inclusive with the room fee?”

Nell’s cheeks reddened.

“You didn’t check?” he guessed.

“Well...” They drove past a vista with a spectacular view. At the top of the mountain, near the pathway that led to his family’s ancient, dilapidated outdoor skating rink, Nell suddenly pulled over.

He sighed. “What is it, Nell?”

“I have a confession,” she blurted. “Actually, I have something I really need to show you.” She turned around and reached for the purse she’d tossed in the back seat.

Surprises were never good. Nathan could feel the muscles in his neck tensing.

She pulled a folder from her gigantic purse, and then turned back around. From the folder, she plucked out a few pieces of paper and handed them to him. “Uncle,” she said, taking a deep breath, “As your marketing manager, I suggest you read and then sign this contract.”

He stared at her. “What is this?”

“Well...after yesterday morning and the discussion we had, I made an inquiry. I knew that if I didn’t act fast, then the opportunity would be gone. You were at the bank all morning, so I made an executive decision.”

His temple throbbed. She was his niece—he couldn’t get angry at her. “I’m the one who makes the executive decisions,” he said in measured tones.

“You told me to take the initiative,” she pointed out. “So I did. And it’s not going to cost us anything.”

What initiative? he thought, irritated. “Nothing is free, Nell.”

“Just listen. You know how we were watching that cruise ship accident on TV? Well,” she said proudly, “it gave me an idea. So I called Empress Cruises.”

“You called Empress Cruises?” he asked incredulously.

She nodded and set her chin. “I want us to hire the show skaters, Uncle.”

“The...”

“Yes. The figure skaters who give ice shows on the cruise ship. I told the lady from Empress Cruises that I was interested in hiring them, and she gave me the number of their production company. They’re the ones that handle their contracts, you see,” she said proudly.

He knew all that. He knew way too much about how the skaters’ business worked, in fact. He gritted his teeth. He was dying to ask about Emilie, but he could not.

“Uncle Nathan,” Nell said, “please don’t get mad at me. Hear me out.”

Obviously, she was flustered that he wasn’t as enthusiastic as she was, but for the moment, he couldn’t even speak. She had no idea of the pressure he was under, or the danger that their inn would be shuttered before the end of the year. She chattered on, pushing her outrageous, unformed idea.

“Those top two resorts you told me to study for competitive analysis? Well, they both have skating rinks, like us. But what they don’t have are shows or skaters to entertain their guests. It’s something we could have that they don’t—a competitive advantage, if you will. So I pitched the production company my idea to send the troupe from the sunken ship here to perform. It’s a win for us because these skaters have media attention right now. Huge media attention. Have you seen the television interviews they’ve been getting? It’s gone national! And we could get publicity by helping them out. Just think of the headlines—‘Prescott Inn saves shipwrecked skaters’ Christmas!’”

His head was swimming. Assuming all this was true... “But they’re cruise ship performers, Nell. The rinks are so much smaller.”

“Oh, no, Uncle. You’re thinking of this the wrong way. The skaters have a family-friendly Christmas show ready to be performed anywhere, even on land. I checked that part out.”

“We can’t,” he said softly. They couldn’t afford to hire them at all. Not in the remotest possibility. Rob had told Nathan to keep the truth of their financial precariousness a secret from everyone outside the circle of investors. And he understood why—if word got out that the inn might be put up for sale, then who in their right mind would call to book a room? And bookings were what they most needed.

He shook his head and thrust the contract forward. Emilie was an entirely separate issue. She’d been the love of his life, and Nell didn’t know about her, either. But that was his private pain.

Nell’s face reddened. “Uncle, this is a really good idea.”

“Fiscally,” he said gently, “it isn’t.”

“It is! We need to bring in revenue. People will come to the inn to see these skaters perform. We’ll fill up rooms for the winter.”

“For Christmas,” he interjected. The investors had made it clear that the holiday season was his immediate concern. The inn wouldn’t even last the winter if they didn’t have a successful Christmas first.

“Yes.” Nell nodded. “And as your marketing manager, I believe this will make us stand out. It will attract people to come and spend money and fill our rooms. Once the skaters are settled, there will be a show every day until Christmas, with the biggest finale on December 24. And as for costs, yes, there will be room-and-board expenses, but they’re minimal. There are ten figure skaters in the troupe and they’re used to berthing two to a room. Our rooms are bigger than cruise ship rooms, so they should like that. I figured we have the older, un-renovated rooms in the west wing that we rarely rent anyway. We can give them a good cleaning, and they’ll be set to go. We can give the skaters a standardized menu to order from in the dining room, so that will streamline costs, plus, we have a gym they can work out in, too, at no cost and—”

“Stop.” He held up his hand. He didn’t even want to listen to the idea anymore. It was making him remember Emilie and their life together on the ship. They’d worked out together in the ship’s gym every morning. He’d lifted weights, and she had worked on her stretches. She’d smile at him in her yoga pants and sports bra, with her hair in a carefree ponytail.

“Uncle, we can’t lose with this deal!” Nell insisted.

“What about their salaries?” he asked, forcing himself to think logically. “That’s a huge expense right there.”

“The cruise line is covering their contracts through Christmas,” she said, excited.

“Why would they do that?”

“I told you, there’s been attention in the national media. Haven’t you seen the video?”

“What video?” Nathan had been too busy preparing for his investors’ meeting to watch news or check social media. That was Nell’s job.

“A passenger was recording the ice show just as the ship hit the sandbar,” Nell said. “And he kept filming as the skating team evacuated everyone. The skaters were heroes. They kept their cool and got all the passengers out. The ice captain—a skater named Emilie—was interviewed on the chat shows last night and this morning through Skype. She’s a really great spokeswoman. So now everybody is super concerned about her troupe—they’re calling them ‘the homeless figure skaters.’ Maybe it’s embarrassing for the cruise line. In any case, the cruise line has offered to pay their salaries through Christmas if we agree to cover room and board. Then they won’t be homeless for Christmas, will they?” Nell smiled brightly at him.

Nathan’s head was spinning. Nell had lost him at the word Emilie. Was she really talking about his Emilie?

He couldn’t stand it anymore—he had to satisfy his curiosity. Ignoring Nell chattering beside him, he scanned through the contract to the end, where the skaters’ names were listed...

And there she was. Emilie O’Shea, Ice Captain. Nathan’s hand shook slightly. She’d been promoted to the job two years ago, just before their breakup. She’d been so proud of her promotion that day—so much so that she’d chosen her job and her skaters over being with him.

He still felt sick over the way it had ended. How could he relive the pain of that day again? He passed the contract back to Nell. “No,” he said firmly.