“Those are the Romano men,” Lucy said. “Grace and I weren’t allowed in that picture. That was the day that they won the basketball tournament with the Murphys, and the testosterone was running high. Whenever that happens, they get just a little chauvinistic.” She swept a hand out. “And they don’t think of this place as romantic at all. Tony and Nick think that Uncle Henry was a fool to settle for half a loaf. None of them liked Isabelle Sheridan. They thought she was a snob. But my sister Grace and I think it’s great that she and my Uncle Henry found some way to be together. When I first saw the movie Titanic, I thought of my uncle—falling in love with someone out of his social class. Soooo romantic.”
And potentially heartbreaking, Lily thought. It took a great deal of courage to reach out and grab that kind of love. A tiny shiver ran up her spine as she realized that she’d nearly echoed Dame Vera’s words again. Even as she tried to shake off the thought, she realized that she was still staring at the tall man in the photo. She had to focus.
Setting the picture down, she forced herself to glance around the room again. It appeared that nothing had been changed since the two lovers had occupied it. “Does your family use this place often?”
“No,” Lucy said and then she grinned. “Not until a year ago when my brother got married. Now he and his wife stay here when they visit from Boston. And Sam brought his wife, A.J., here one night—before they were married—and they got engaged the next day. My sister Grace thinks the place has the power to make true love happen.”
“I was thinking it has the power to make the hotel a lot of money. With that view, this place could be turned into a restaurant that offers intimate fireside dining during the winter and al fresco dining during the summer months. It’s a sin to let it go to waste like this.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been telling Tony,” Lucy said. “I even designed a menu.”
When Lily glanced at her curiously, she hurried on. “The minute I graduate from college, I’m going to a culinary school. Tony lets me create specials for the restaurant, and he’s incorporated several of them into the regular menu. But the family wants me to get a degree like Grace and my brother Nick did.” She wrinkled her nose. “That way I’ll have something to fall back on if being a chef doesn’t work out. But I don’t see the point. I’ve known what I wanted to be since I was ten.”
“That’s when I decided what I wanted to be too,” Lily said.
“Really?”
“Yes.” She hadn’t let herself think of that day for a very long time.
“Did your family encourage you?” Lucy asked.
“No.” It still hurt to recall what had happened when she’d worked up the nerve to march into her father’s office to tell him. It had been one of the few times in the years after her mother’s death when he’d worked at home. Her nanny had orders to keep her out in the garden, but she’d slipped away because she’d wanted so much to spend time with him. When she’d burst through the door of his office, he’d been deep in conversation with two clients. The moment he’d looked at her, she’d become all too aware of her mussed clothes and dirty knees, and she’d been swamped by the feelings of inadequacy that she always felt in her father’s presence. Still, she’d managed to blurt out what she’d come to say. One day she wanted to be a partner in McNeil Enterprises. To this day, she wasn’t sure what her father would have said to her if one of the other men in the room hadn’t begun to chuckle. Then her father had joined him. Even now, fifteen years later, she could recall the hot flood of embarrassment and her father’s words later when the clients had left and he’d lectured her. “You’ll never be a success in business. You’re far too impulsive—just like your mother was.”
“When did your family start to take you seriously?” Lucy asked.
Lily dragged her thoughts back to the present and straightened her shoulders. “I’m still working on them.”
When her father had reluctantly agreed to let her handle the “problem” at Henry’s Place, the expressions on the faces of her family had been less than congratulatory. Shock and anger had flashed into her stepmother, Pamela’s, eyes. And the usual mocking derision in Jerry’s had been replaced by cool speculation.
At least no one had laughed. Once you’d been pegged as a failure, it was hard to change that image. But she was going to give it her best shot. Turning to Lucy, she said, “I’d like to see your menu in the morning.”
“Really?”
Lily smiled. “Really.”
Lucy gave her a quick, hard hug. “I’m so glad you’ve come to help us out. If anyone can convince Tony to turn this place into a restaurant, you can.”
“I’ll do my best,” Lily found herself promising.
A soft buzz sounded, and Lucy glanced at the pager she pulled from her belt. “I have to get back to the desk. There are fresh sheets on the bed—and I keep the fridge and pantry stocked for Nick and his wife.” She began to back her way towards the door. “If there’s anything you need, just phone down to the desk.”
Lily managed to keep the smile on her face until Lucy was gone. Then she sank down onto the nearest chair. She felt like a slug. Lucy was looking on her as a savior, and she was a traitor. It had been a mistake to get the girl’s hopes up. She should never have asked for the menu. It wouldn’t do to get personally involved with any of the Romanos. If she didn’t remember that, she was going to fail at what she’d come to do.
Closing her eyes, she pictured herself back on that white sandy beach in Tahiti and drew in a deep breath. All she had to do was keep the right perspective. She was not here to take Henry’s Place away from the Romanos but to prove to her father and her stepbrother and stepmother that she was capable of taking her place in the company. If she didn’t remember that, she was going to backslide into being the family misfit again.
With a sigh, Lily opened her eyes and moved toward the open door on the second level. She was tired. What she needed was a good night’s sleep. Then her perspective would come back to her. Everything would be as clear as it had been on that beach in Tahiti. But the moment she stepped into the bedroom, her eyes widened. This time, it wasn’t the view of the Manhattan skyline that drew her gaze. It was the huge bed, raised on a platform, that nearly filled the room. As she moved toward it, she was vaguely aware of a fireplace to her left, but she didn’t take her eyes off the iron-frame bed.
It was definitely the kind to take a lover in. The thought had slipped into her mind the moment she’d run her hand over the smooth, satin coverlet. This time she couldn’t blame Dame Vera entirely for the direction her thoughts had taken. The older woman might have planted the seed, but Lily had to admit that the idea of a lover had taken root in fertile ground.
It had been a long time since she’d had a man in her bed. For the past two years—ever since she’d broken her engagement with Giles Fortescue—she’d devoted herself entirely to making herself over—getting her MBA and apprenticing herself to a small but exclusive hotel chain in Europe. There hadn’t been time for a man. And before that, there’d been Giles. She hadn’t thought of him, hadn’t wanted to think of him, in a very long time.
She could still picture him in her mind—the lean, tanned face, the blond, Viking good looks. He’d been thirty-three—ten years her senior. She’d been fresh out of college, twenty-five pounds heavier, and not used to the social whirl her stepmother had swept her into. Giles had taken her under his wing the moment she’d been introduced to him, and she’d fallen for him. He’d been so kind and attentive that she’d grown to believe that he’d fallen for her, too.
Suddenly she realized that it didn’t hurt to think about Giles anymore. Slowly, she grinned. How ironic that the sight of a bed made for lovers would somehow set her free from the man her family had handpicked