Identity

“I’m thinking two dozen fish—you figure that out, Rory,” Mick told his son, “the ins and outs, the cash prizes, and how that works.”


“Will do.”

“Your hundred-dollar fish, your five-hundred, thousand, and the big kahuna.”

“We could do prizes for the shanties—best decorated—wouldn’t that make a picture?” Drea considered. “They wouldn’t have to be cash. A free night or weekend, discount cards at the spa, the shops, the restaurants and bars. We set up to have hot chocolate, coffee, maybe some baked goods. Nell and I can work on that. Something like we do in January, Nell, for the ice sculpture event.”

“We can rock this.” Liam nodded as he made his own notes. “I should’ve thought of it myself.”

“Take your ropes course victory,” his mother advised.

“Oh, I do. Anything else? I’m starving.”

“One more thing. It crosses resort business and personal.”

“A family business.” Drea lifted her hands. “So much does.”

“It does,” Miles agreed. “And in that vein, I’m letting you all know I’m seeing Morgan Albright.”

He expected the pause, and maybe a moment of confusion. He got both.

“Ah, seeing Morgan,” Drea said slowly, “as in dating?”

Nell gave Miles the sharp eye. “As in sleeping with, Mom. Damn it, Miles.”

“Sorry. Did you want to sleep with her?”

“Aren’t you just adorable? Are there not enough women in Vermont you can choose from without sleeping with someone who works at the resort, and in my department?”

“Apologies again. I’ve run through all the others. She was the only one left. Once I’m done with her, I’m hitting on New Hampshire.”

“All right, kids.” Their father held his hands up, palms out. “That’s enough. First, this is Miles’s personal life, and he’s entitled to it just like the rest of us. Next. Everyone at this table, everyone who knows him would have no reason, whatsoever, to think he’d in any way coerce or pressure any woman, any employee into a sexual relationship.”

“Morgan may not feel that way.”

Liam let out an impatient hiss as he turned to his sister. “Come on, Nell, Morgan’s worked for us long enough to give a solid impression. If she felt pressured, and I don’t buy that, not with Miles, she’d come to you, or Grand, or Mom. Or, more likely, she’d tell Miles to back right off. I’ve seen her handle guests who come close to the line. So have you.”

“I also know she’s coming out of a trauma. Major trauma, and one that’s not over.”

“I’m aware.” He spoke coolly—a clear warning signal. “And you’re crossing the line if you think I’d take advantage of that.”

“I don’t. I’m saying she might. I need to talk with her. I do,” she pressed before Miles could speak. “I’m her direct supervisor. I’m responsible.”

“I have something to say.”

When Lydia Jameson spoke, no one interrupted.

“Rory is right in that this is Miles’s personal life, and his family needs to respect that. And his family should trust him, as he’s never given any of us reason to do otherwise.

“Nell is right,” she continued. “Though I have no doubt Miles is confident this relationship is on mutual and even ground, Nell, as Morgan’s supervisor, should have an open and frank discussion with Morgan. She’s Olivia Nash’s granddaughter, and so I have no doubt Liam is also right. If she didn’t want a relationship of this nature with Miles, she would make that clear.

“But,” she continued after a pause, “we can’t forget what she’s been through, is still dealing with. Nell, I think we’d all appreciate it if you’d arrange to have a private conversation with Morgan tomorrow. I expect you’ll have the answers and responses that allow all of us to let two unencumbered adults live their personal lives.”

“I’ll arrange it.”

“That’s settled then.” Mick knocked a fist lightly on the table. “Miles will, no doubt, respect whatever Morgan has to say on the subject.”

“Of course I will.”

“She’s a very appealing young woman.” Mick smiled with it. “On several levels. And an asset to the resort. We look after our own. I’ll add if Miles wasn’t who Miles is, he wouldn’t have brought this up at the meeting. And now, let’s fire up the grill.”

Outside, Nell made a point to draw Miles away. And watching them, Drea winced.

“Let them hash it out.” Rory gave her shoulder a squeeze. “We didn’t raise shrinking violets.”

“That’s my worry. I’d hate to see this end up in a fight.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Not even close. But you’re right, let them hash it out. We can mop up the metaphorical blood later if necessary.”

Nell drew Miles around to the side of the house. “Listen, I have to do this.”

“So you’ve said, and so everyone agreed.”

“It’s not that I don’t know you, don’t trust you.”

“It isn’t?”

“No, and you damn well know it, so get off the high horse.”

“I couldn’t get in the saddle because you took up all the room.”

She paced a few feet away, paced back again. “You’re not going to piss me off.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Miles!” She threw up her hands, then tapped her fists against her temples. “You can sympathize, you can be outraged about the idea of someone in power pressuring—in subtle or overt ways—a woman to have sex. But you can’t know what it’s like to be in that woman’s position.”

“And you do?”

“Yes, I do. I know what it’s like to feel cornered by a guy who thinks I should be interested, or grateful, or compliant. And—”

“Hold the hell on.” Taking her by the arms, he stared down at her. “Who? Who did that?”

She gave him a look, both affectionate and disdainful at once.

“Do you want me to start reeling off names since high school? I’m not going to do that. I handled it, and I’ll keep handling. But I know what it’s like, and you just can’t. And yeah, Liam’s right. I’ve seen her handle herself. But you’re not a guest, not another member of the staff. You’re the boss. So I’m going to talk to her and establish there’s not any doubt or hesitation in her about having a sexual relationship with you.

“Is it just sexual?”

“Who’s asking? The head of Hospitality or my sister?”

“I guess, in this case, it’s your sister.”

“Then I don’t know yet.”

She nodded. “That’s fair. I never know either.”

“My sister doesn’t have sexual relationships. She’s pure and untouched.”

“That’s right.” Now she patted his cheek. “Just like our mother, who conceived and bore three children through a chaste miracle.”

“That’s my theory.”

“I love you, Miles, and you didn’t piss me off, so you lose the bet.”

“Day’s not over.”



* * *



Nell went back and forth over where best to meet Morgan, and in the end texted a request to go to the Nash house on Monday at ten.

Somewhere, she thought, Morgan would feel comfortable, and after her family left for work so they’d have privacy.

When she arrived, Morgan answered the door quickly.

“Hi, thanks for seeing me. I’d forgotten what a lovely house this is. I don’t get out this way often.”

“Come on in. At first I was surprised you wanted to come by this morning, then I realized I shouldn’t have been.”