Relative Strangers Read Online Free

high season ran from July tenth to September tenth. You made your money then or you folded.
    Folding was all too real a danger nowadays.
    Joyce nibbled nervously on her lower lip as she watched him. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Attract new business. Get out of debt.”
    “Mom,” he said gently, “will you promise to let me handle this sort of thing from now on? You’re a great manager for the restaurant and a terrific hostess, but now that Pop’s out of commission, why don’t I take charge of the bookings?”
    “You’ve already got too many things on your plate,” she pointed out. “What we really need is someone on staff to do nothing but scout new business.”
    “We can’t afford that.”
    “We can’t afford not to come up with some new ideas, good ones, and soon.”
    “At least next time you get a great idea, put me in the picture before you commit the hotel. Please?”
    “Of course, my dear. In fact I’d intended to talk to you today about something. I want to explore the possibility of hiring a publicist.”
    “Where did that notion come from?”
    “One of our guests does public relations work for a living. I saw her business card when she registered. It’s that nice Corrie Ballantyne. You remember? That quiet, pretty woman. Why don’t I invite her to have Christmas dinner with us tonight in the main dining room? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind talking shop.”
    “And that’s the only thing you have planned?” Lucas didn’t bother to conceal his skepticism.
    “Why, dear, whatever else could there be?” She blinked up at him in a feigned confusion that wouldn’t have fooled a child.
    “Give it up, Mom. Besides, I don’t have time to have dinner with Ms. Ballantyne today. Neither do you.” She served as hostess in the main dining room during midday and evening meals.
    “Today is well planned,” she answered. “No one needs supervision.”
    Lucas wasn’t so sure of that, but he didn’t argue with his mother. “Well, then, why don’t you take some time off and spend it with Pop?”
    “Because your father is going to be here again, when he wakes up. You and Corrie could join us for dinner and we could—”
    “No, Mom.”
    “At least promise me that you’ll take a little time for yourself today. You’ve been working entirely too hard. Leave the hotel and do something relaxing.” When he started to protest, she added the one argument he couldn’t counter. “You know what all work and no play did to your father.”
    Lucas considered her request. He could catch up on paperwork as easily at home as in his office at the hotel. He was about to say so when a sound made him look up.
    Corrie Ballantyne was descending the grand staircase at the far end of the lobby. She looked as appealing in sunlight as she had in the glow of the fire. Too attractive by far. Getting out of the hotel for a while suddenly seemed like a wise idea.
    * * * *
    The Sinclair House brochure boasted of extensive cross-country ski trails, the first of which traversed what in warmer seasons was a golf course. At ten o’clock on Christmas morning, having made dutiful, strained phone calls to her father and each of her brothers, Corrie set out across the fairway.
    She was looking forward to her first opportunity in years to ski without a horde of nieces and nephews along. For once, she would not end up buried in the snow by Maurice, her brother’s overly friendly Saint Bernard.
    Crisp, cold air, the hint of a freshening breeze, and bright sunlight combined to cheer and invigorate her. Rachel’s gift had been designed for cross-country wear, lightweight and ventilated to make the best use of the heat her exercise would generate. It had a hood concealed inside the collar, but that was more to protect against wind than cold. After the first mile Corrie removed a pair of fluffy black earmuffs from one deep pocket and slipped them on to guard against frostbite.
    The opportunity to catch her breath was welcome