Forbidden Fruit. Erica Spindler
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Название: Forbidden Fruit

Автор: Erica Spindler

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Приключения: прочее

Серия:

isbn: 9781408907221

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ should be soiled.”

      He did the same with the crystal. She followed his lead, studying, inspecting, pursing her lips ever so slightly as she did, in a perfect mimicry of him. She saw her reflection in the soup spoon and smiled, liking how grown-up she looked.

      “The linen should be spotless and crisp,” he continued. “And the flowers must always be fresh. If one droops, it must be removed.”

      “The china can’t be cracked or chipped,” she piped in. “Even the tiniest chip is…” She stopped, searching for the perfect word, the one he always used.

      He helped her out. “Unacceptable.”

      “Right. Unacceptable.”

      He leaned toward her once again. “At the St. Charles people pay for the best, and the best is perfection. We must give it to them. If we don’t, they’ll take their business elsewhere.”

      After that, they ordered, then enjoyed their meals. While they ate, her father talked more about the hotel, sharing stories about his father and grandfather, telling her about the early days of the hotel. Even though Glory had heard most of what he said many times before, she never grew tired of hearing him tell her again, and urged him to share even more details with her.

      It wasn’t until their dinners had been cleared away and her dessert and his coffee served, that Glory thought again about her mother. She realized she hadn’t seen her since her punishment.

      “Where’s Mama tonight?” she asked, licking a drop of strawberry sauce from her thumb.

      Philip took a sip of his coffee. “She went to mass.”

      “We went this morning, too.” Glory looked glumly down at her ice-cream sundae. “She must still be angry with me. About the flowers and Mr. Riley.”

      His mouth tightened. “That’s all over now, poppet. She just made a mistake about those flowers. Remember?”

      Glory looked up at him, then away, her heart hurting.

      “Yes, Daddy.”

      “Your mama loves you very much. She just wants you to grow up to be a good person. That’s all.”

      “Yes, Daddy,” she murmured, though she didn’t believe it was true. She peeked up at him and knew he didn’t believe it, either. She knew, in her heart, that he, too, wondered what was wrong with Glory that her Mama didn’t love her.

      That hurt so much, she wanted to die.

      “Poppet? What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing, Daddy,” she said, the words small and sad.

      For a moment, he said nothing, and she silently begged for him to ask her the question again, silently wished for him to insist she tell him the truth. Instead, in a voice that sounded false, he said, “Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?”

      She didn’t look up; the tablecloth swam before her eyes. “It’s still two months away.”

      “Two months isn’t long.” His coffee cup clicked against the saucer as he set it down. “You must have given it some thought.”

      She had, Glory thought bitterly. She wanted the same thing she had wished for last year, the same thing she wished for every year.

       That her mother would love her.

      “No,” Glory whispered without looking up. “I haven’t.”

      “Well, don’t you worry.” He reached across the table and covered her clenched hands with one of his own. “Your daddy has something special in mind. Something fitting his precious poppet’s eighth birthday.”

      When she didn’t respond, he squeezed her hands, then drew his back. “Let’s do a quick tour of the hotel before we head home.”

      She shrugged, still battling tears. “Okay.”

      At first, as they strolled down the halls, Glory’s hurt and feeling of betrayal prevented her from enjoying this ritual, one she usually found such pleasure in. But as each minute passed, those feelings dimmed and the magic of the St. Charles, the magic of being with her father, swelled inside her. Her father loved her, she knew. They shared this, their love of the hotel. Here, her mother couldn’t come between them.

      When they had checked each floor and made sure everything was in perfect order, Philip summoned an elevator, their tour over. “Occupancy is the key,” her father said as they stepped into the empty elevator. He punched the lobby button. “You must keep the hotel booked. Empty rooms are not only lost revenue, but lost capital, as well. The staff and the premises must be maintained to the same standard, whether the hotel’s occupancy is twenty percent or one hundred percent. Do you understand?”

      She nodded, and he continued, “You must never abuse your ownership. Guests’ needs must always come before the owner’s needs. Never give away a room or service you can sell.

      “It will be tempting, I know. It’s fun to give away dinners, to throw lavish parties for your friends, to do favors for people you like. But over the years I’ve seen hoteliers get into trouble that way. They’ve lost either all or part ownership of their hotels. That must never happen to the St. Charles. We have kept her strong and in the family by being good businessmen, and by being determined to hold on to her. The needs of the hotel come first. Always.”

      “I couldn’t bear for us to lose the St. Charles,” she said softly, lifting her face to his. “I love her.”

      “That’s good. Because someday she’ll be yours.” The elevator doors slid open, but her father didn’t make a move to get out. Instead, he caught her hand and held it tightly. “The St. Charles is in your blood, Glory. It’s as much a part of you as your mother and I. It’s your heritage.”

      “I know, Daddy.”

      He tightened his fingers more, meeting her eyes, the expression in his fierce. “You must never forget, family and heritage are everything. Who you are and who you will be. Never forget,” he said again. “Family and heritage, no one can take them away from you.”

       Chapter 9

      Glory awakened suddenly but without a start. She didn’t open her eyes but even so, she knew her mother stood beside the bed, staring down at her. Glory felt her presence, felt her gaze burning into her, marking her like a brand.

      Seconds ticked past, becoming minutes. Glory kept her eyes shut tight. She didn’t want to alert her mother to the fact that she had awakened, she didn’t want to see her mother’s expression. She knew, from countless times before, just what that expression would be. And how it would make her feel.

      Glory began to sweat under her light blanket; her heart thundered so heavily against the wall of her chest, she was certain her mother must be able to see its beat. Time seemed to stop and hold its breath; her every sense, every nerve ending strained, focusing on her mother, waiting and wishing for her to go away.

      But her mother didn’t go away. Instead, she moved closer to the bed. Glory heard the soft scrape of her slippers on the floor, felt the mattress move as СКАЧАТЬ