if it becomes public knowledge, it could further damage the business. Can I trust you to support me on this?”
She nodded, swallowing.
He nodded, too. Case closed. No more talk of bringing in Emilie and her show skaters here, no matter what it would do for us.
“But that’s all the more reason to bring in Emilie and her skaters. I can get us lots of positive publicity if we bring them in,” Nell stubbornly repeated. “Look. Here’s the interview Emilie did this morning. The recording is from a Miami station, but they played it on the national morning shows, too.”
He stared at Nell. It appeared she really didn’t understand the seriousness of what they were going through.
“Nell,” he said patiently, “As I said, we can’t put money into a venture like this, so please stop suggesting it.”
“The contract doesn’t require us to put in any money. They have to find a place for Emilie or it would be bad publicity for them. Just read the contract, Uncle. You haven’t even looked at it yet. How can you make a blanket statement that we can’t afford it if you won’t even read it? Don’t you trust me? Me. I’m your family, Uncle.”
Her face was red with passion. And yeah, it killed him when she put it that way. He would like to indulge her. Nell was his closest family left in the area. Nathan’s sister—Nell’s mother—lived out in California. She’d been his sole ally as a kid. Only she really understood what pain their chaotic childhood had been.
Plus, Nell did have some good ideas.
Without a word, he picked up the contract and examined it. He read it line by line, paragraph by paragraph, because that was prudent business sense. It was practical.
It read exactly as Nell said it would.
Interestingly, he noted a paragraph that gave him an out if he was in any way dissatisfied with the troupe’s performance. He could cancel the agreement at any time, for any reason, and they would have to leave.
“How did this get in there?” he asked Nell, tapping the paragraph. From the production company’s perspective, it made terrible business sense.
“I asked for it,” she said proudly.
“You?”
“I knew you’d be a tough sell. I knew that clause would help to convince you.”
“They really, really want those skaters to find a home, don’t they?”
She smiled at him. But she hadn’t won yet.
He leaned his head back on the seat.
Nell waited patiently.
He sat up and scratched some figures, in pencil, on the side of the contract. If the inn’s maintenance manager, Guy, took care of the physical upkeep of the rink, and if they didn’t spend money on outside vendors, and if the publicity Nell was talking about came through...
“The skaters can have the rink,” he murmured. “But only half of it. The front half, where the floodlights still work.”
“All right,” Nell said cautiously. “Yes, I suppose they’re used to skating on smaller surfaces.”
“Guy will run the Zamboni once a day only, in the early morning, before work.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“And put it in the contract that they’re definitely to bring their own music, props, costumes, equipment and stage curtains. They have to be prepared to use our facilities as is. We’re not responsible for any big improvements or outlays of investment. I mean it, Nell.”
“Of course! Oh, yes! I’m sure they’ll agree to all that!”
He nodded, thinking grimly of Emilie. If this project went forward, he would have to face her again.
He didn’t relish that confrontation.
Then again, Emilie might not want to deal with him, either. They hadn’t parted ways on the best of terms. It had been abrupt, really.
“You would be the point person in dealing with this project,” he said.
“Great! Thank you for the opportunity, Uncle.”
The inn was a big place. He and Emilie might not even cross paths with one another. They could each pretend that the other didn’t exist, as they had been doing for the past two years.
Yes, Nell was capable of doing her job, and so was Emilie. The two of them could handle the shows without his input or interference.
And maybe Emilie wouldn’t want to come to Prescott Inn. She was the one who’d rejected him, after all. He would just have to see...
“So will you sign it, Uncle?” Nell said eagerly.
He gazed into his niece’s anxious brown eyes.
“Please, Uncle?”
EMILIE PAUSED AT the end of the hallway, phone glued to her ear, on hold with her boss, Lynn Bladewell.
Three days had passed since the Empress Caribbean had sunk. The production company had finally moved them off the island and into a hotel in Miami. It was still early in the day. The other skaters were in their rooms, exhausted from the ordeal.
After two days of living on cots in the school gym and assisting the cruise line with evacuating the last of the passengers from the tiny island and back to the mainland, they were now officially in limbo. Below Emilie, the Florida sun shone brightly on the Atlantic Ocean. Blue skies spread across the horizon as far as the eye could see. Gentle, perfect waves rolled in along the sparkling water.
Home. Or at least where her family lived. But Emilie hadn’t truly called Florida home since she started working for the cruise line.
Emilie’s mom, older sister and niece had met her at the hotel yesterday, when she’d first arrived with her troupe. They’d all cried and hugged each other. The ship’s sinking had scared everyone, but it was okay, Emilie had told them; they were all safe. She kept reassuring them of that over and over.
“Stay with us for Christmas, honey?” her mom had asked.
“I have to stay with my team, Mom.” And she did. That’s where her heart and her purpose was. The team needed her, and she felt responsible for them. Besides, she liked helping them. “Sergei and Katya are from Russia, and we have Gary and Rosie from Canada. Then there’s Lars from Norway. I can’t just abandon my people, who are so far from home, and at Christmastime.”
“Well...they can certainly spend Christmas with us,” her mom offered.
Emilie had smiled sadly at them. “Thanks for offering. I really do appreciate it.” But the thought of ten more people crammed into Mom’s tiny Fort Myers condo just didn’t make sense.
“So, what are you going to do, honey?”
“Well, the production
