Page 50 of Christmas at the Ranch
“You had drinks with a strange man!” Samantha sat up straight.
“Your father went up to the room, he had an upset stomach from all the cheese he ate at lunch,” her mother explained. “Victor was sitting next to me at the bar.” She paused. “We had a lovely conversation until he suggested we go on to dinner. When I said no, he asked for my room number. Then he got quite huffy. Honestly, it was one Dubonnet. It couldn’t have cost more than twenty Euros.”
“What did you do?” Samantha inquired.
“I told the bartender to put both our drinks on my bill,” she chuckled. “That will show him that women can take care of themselves. Then I said that my husband was waiting for me in our room, and he has close ties to the mafia. The French think everyone from New Jersey has ties to the mafia.”
“I’m sure Victor won’t bother you again,” Samantha laughed.
“To be honest, it was quite flattering,” her mother mused. “None of us are made to be alone, it’s nice to feel attractive. That reminds me, a woman in the lobby was reading a Sloane Parker book. She said you must lead an exciting life.” Her mother sighed. “We should spend Christmas in Monaco together next year. Trust me, it’s much nicer wearing sandals rather than snow boots.”
“I’ll think about it,” Samantha said with a smile.
“I sound like a broken record, but it’s only because I love you.” Her mother’s voice wobbled. “Your father and I are lucky that we have our health and can travel, but that’s not always the case. You should enjoy yourself while you’re young.”
Samantha recalled the flight to Jackson Hole. The suddenturbulence and the sinking feeling that they were all going to die. Asking Drew to tell her a story and then discovering they had landed.
“I have to go,” her mother said. “We’ve been invited to the casino. I told your father not to let me near the roulette wheel. I can’t be responsible for my actions when I have more than two drinks.”
Samantha pressed End and leaned against the pillows. The heady rush from tobogganing was gone and she felt strangely deflated. Everyone thought being an author was glamorous. But her life consisted of getting the next book contract, and then hoping she’d turn the manuscript in on deadline. She still had an empty feeling inside. Beatrix and her mother were right: being in love was one of the most wonderful things in life.
Marigold said to look inside herself and see what she was missing. What was the point? Even if she knew what to wish for, that didn’t mean it would come true.
Chapter Twelve
Samantha closed her notebook and placed it on the bedside table. It was midmorning the next day and she had barely slept. Finally, she did what she always did when she couldn’t sleep. She slipped on fuzzy socks, took out her notebook, and scribbled the plot of a new Sloane Parker book.
Sloane is lying in bed in her room at the Pulitzer Hotel in Amsterdam when she receives a FaceTime call. She guesses it’s the suave Dutch man, Drago, she met last night at the hotel bar. He wanted to continue their evening—drinking jenever chased with beer—in his room. But Sloane would never go to a man’s hotel room. And besides, she’s on an assignment. She’ll respond to Drago’s dinner invitation when it’s over.
It’s not Drago, it’s Phineas. Sloane is shocked. Phineas never wants to FaceTime. Phineas has big news and he wants to see her reaction. The position of intelligence supervisor is available and Phineas recommended Sloane for the job.
At first, Sloane is thrilled. She’d have her own office at headquarters in London, with regular hours and an expense account. Perhapsshe’d meet someone and they’d take long walks and hang out in bookshops in Notting Hill.
But she’d miss so many things about working in the field. The cab drivers who love to show off their cities, the hotel lounges filled with people with unique histories. There would be no more calls from Phineas, congratulating her on a completed mission and insisting she treat herself to a week’s relaxation.
She tells Phineas she appreciates the offer but she’s too young to sit in an office. When she hangs up, she wonders if she made the right decision. Would she gaze at her reflection in the mirror one day and see wrinkles and gray hair, and still be alone? A moment later, she gets a text from Drago saying he knows of a great Indian restaurant on the Prinsengracht canal. Sloane shoots back a text that she’s busy, but maybe tomorrow. First, she has to break up the human trafficking ring, then she’ll have dinner with Drago.
Samantha went to the closet and slipped on jeans and a sweater. What she needed was a cup of coffee from Arthur’s fancy espresso machine. Then she’d plan the rest of the day.
Arthur and Drew were standing at the counter when she entered the kitchen.
“Samantha.” Arthur beamed. “Come join us, we were talking about you.”
“You were?” Samantha asked.
Drew was wearing a sweatshirt and shorts; a towel was draped around his neck.
“Drew and I just finished our morning workout.” Arthur poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Samantha. “I was telling himabout the sales and marketing team for Sloane Parker. They’re doing a terrific job.”
Samantha winced. She busied herself adding cream so Arthur didn’t see her expression.
“I’m lucky to have them.” She nodded.
“Nonsense, they’re merely supporting a great writer. When I first started out in publishing, I worked in marketing. A great marketing plan can make the difference between a book becoming successful or fizzling out.”
“I didn’t know you worked in marketing,” Samantha responded.
“I worked in every department, that’s the only way to learn about the business. I was lucky, it was a small publishing company and I was given quite a bit of responsibility. I suppose that’s why now I care so much. I could never sell the company to some huge conglomerate; it would be like giving away my own child.” He sipped his coffee and his expression brightened. “Enough about me. Charlie told me about the movie interest from Hollywood. I hope you don’t stop writing. Some authors get that first check from a film studio and put away their laptops. Life is more pleasant sitting by a swimming pool at the Beverly Hills Hotel.”
