So much like her relationship with her father.
Somehow Frank Montgomery would’ve saved the day, with a joke and a smile to put everyone at ease. She wished she had more of his personality. More of that brilliant magnetism that made people believe everything would turn out all right.
She needed that now more than ever.
I miss you, Daddy .
James sent her a look of heartwarming compassion that made her want to lay her head on his shoulder and cry. “I heard you had a rough day.”
Steeped in exhaustion, she nodded. She’d scrubbed the entire kitchen. Twice. The repairman arrived to inform her that the stove had two of eight burners still working. He fixed the gas leak. Re-lit the pilot. And left a bill for two-hundred dollars she didn’t have to pay him. Afterward, she locked herself in her room and stood under a hot shower for forty-five minutes until her numbness subsided. But the fire had ravaged her pride. Her hopeful spirit lay in a charred heap in her chest, and a depressing listlessness filled her. Yet she still had to solve the enormous problem of dinner.
“The usual?” James winked.
“Make it a double. No, a triple.”
“I don’t think they make wine glasses that large, and we’re fresh out of fishbowls, love.”
“Then hand me the bottle.”
Chuckling, James reached into the wine racks and brought out a bottle she’d never seen before. He slid a wine glass off the shelf, set it down and uncorked the wine. A hearty splash hit the glass’s basin, sloshed up the sides and settled in a luxurious ruby-red pool. “I have something special for you.”
She read the label. “Sterling Hills Vintner’s Reserve, Pinot Noir. Sounds impressive.”
“The best.” He swirled it in the glass and handed it to her. “Give it a try.”
Ellie sipped the beverage. The wine slid down her throat like nectar of the gods, leaving a richly-hued aftertaste. “Dionysus called, James. He wants his wine back.”
His blue eyes twinkled. “I thought you’d like it.”
“It’s heavenly.” He poured her a full glass, and she savored every sip. “Where did you get this?”
“A little place I know on the mainland. I asked for something truly special.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“Your success.”
Ellie nearly choked. “Let’s not cheers to that yet.”
“We will.” He sent her a perceptive smile. “I have another bottle. You’ll know when it’s time to use it.”
“But the expense—”
James responded by whistling a cheerful tune. He had a great whistle, the kind that echoes down hallways, spreading contagious joy in every direction.
“All right, James. What do you know that I don’t?” She took another sip of the wine and appreciated its complex taste.
His whistle grew louder.
“Fine, keep your secrets. No wonder you’re a bartender by trade.” Ellie tamped down her annoyance.
A female voice interrupted their quiet conversation. “Mr. Stratton!”
Ellie turned to see Carter strutting into the dining room. The woman who called his name beckoned him to her table. Ellie recognized the woman and her husband as the couple staying in the Dwight Eisenhower room on the fourth floor.
“Mr. Stratton,” the woman implored, beaming up at Carter as he approached their table where a candle glowed softly in the center. “This meal is superb. I’ve never tasted fish this well-prepared. The sauce is divine!”
Her husband agreed, stretching out his hand to shake Carter’s. “My wife knows her Chilean sea bass. Where does your chef get his recipes?”
Ellie blinked. Chef?
Casually sliding his hands into his suit pants pockets, Carter smiled. “Andre writes his recipes by hand in Swedish and keeps them in a lock-box. I’m afraid his genius will remain a mystery.”
The woman batted her lashes, her smile a little too wide. “We’ll plan to vacation at the Montgomery Hotel more often. Now we have something to really look forward to.”
Ellie frowned. It seemed the woman was more interested in visiting for Carter than for the food.
“Enjoy,” Carter said.
The aging beauty watched Carter’s every move as he walked away from their table toward the bar. Ellie felt a knot tighten in her stomach.
Carter’s head tilted as he peered at her. “You don’t look dressed for a formal dinner party.”
She swirled her wine in her glass. “The problem with dinner parties is that you have to feed people. That’s not an option at the moment.”
“Then you haven’t met Andre?”
Carter waved toward the kitchen. A moment later, the tallest, blondest man she’d ever seen came through the swinging doors.