Cathryn Parry - Christmas At Prescott Inn

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.

Nell frowned at him and crossed her arms. And then with renewed vigor, she kept pressing. “Did I tell you the skaters will come with their own costumes and props for the show, which has already been choreographed?”

“There are insurance fees and other expenses,” he said with tight lips. Whatever Nell could think to throw at him, he would counter. The truth was, he couldn’t evaluate the opportunity from a neutral perspective because the proposal involved Emilie.

“ Read the contract, Uncle. It comes with insurance from the production company. Besides, that’s a minor detail. Look at the big picture. We need to fill rooms in order to have a financially viable Christmas. Am I right?”

More than she realized.

But Emilie had hurt him. And he had said things he later regretted. He had enough on his plate right now keeping his resort open without having to deal with the pain from his past personal life.

Plus the skating troupe would require him to keep the rink open, adding to his expenses.

On the other hand, Nell believed the troupe could be a solution to their financial woes. If skaters brought in enough income to offset the costs of their room and board, she could be right.

Still, he pushed back. “There are other considerations,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’ve sailed on a cruise ship with entertainment staff. You haven’t. Believe me when I tell you that, in my experience, they bring drama. And commotion. Plus, they’re used to eating all day long. They bounce in and out of the facilities as they please. They interact with the guests—”

“So, let them! Maybe they could give impromptu skating lessons.” Nell’s eyes were lit with excitement. “Uncle Nathan, you’re always telling me to buckle down and get serious, and I have. This is a good idea. Everyone loves outdoor skating at a New England inn at Christmastime.”