He wore a tool belt and navy uniform, and the antique doorknob was sitting on the floor at his feet along with a small pile of sawdust.
“What are you doing?” she asked, bending to pick up the heavy brass. Her parents had done away with “real keys” the moment they took over, installing the popular keycard entry hotels now used. The uniformed man removed that next and dropped it at his feet. From his pocket, he pulled out a small silver pad with a black opening.
“Installing the fingerprint entry,” he answered, then went back to drilling.
“No, no, no.” She placed the doorknob back on the ground and dusted her hand on her skirt. “We’re not doing any fingerprint entry.” She offered a patient smile. “You need to double-check your work order.”
He gave her a confused look.
“Ma’am?” He was looking at Merina, but his voice was raised.
Merina’s mother, Jolie, appeared from behind the door, and her eyebrows rose into hair that used to be the same honeyed shade of blond as Merina’s but now was more blond to hide the gray.
“Oh, Merina!” Her mother smiled, but it looked a little pained.
“Can you give me a minute with my daughter, Gary?” Like she was Gary’s mother, Jolie fished a five-dollar bill from her pocket and pressed it into his palm. “Go to the restaurant and have Sharon make you a caramel macchiato. You won’t be sorry.”
Gary frowned but took the cash. Merina shook her head as he walked away.
What is going on?
“Sweetheart.” Jolie offered another smile. A tight-lipped one meaning there was bad news. Like when Merina’s cat Sherwood had been hit by a car and Jolie had to break it to her. “Come in. Sit.” She popped open the door and Merina entered the guest room, another beloved part of this hotel.
White duvets and molded woodwork, modern flat-screen televisions and artwork. Red, gold, and deep orange accents added to the richness of the palette and were meant to show that a fire may have taken down the original building but couldn’t keep it down.
Jolie gestured to the chair by the desk. Merina refused to sit.
“Mom. What’s going on?”
On the end of a sigh that didn’t make her feel any better, her mother spoke.
“Several changes have been ordered for the Van Heusen in order to modernize it. Fingerprint entry is one of them. Also, the elevators will be replaced.”
“Why?” Merina pictured the gold decorative doors with a Phoenix emblazoned on them and her stomach turned.
Instead of answering, Jolie continued. “Then there’s the carpeting. The tapestry design won’t fit in with the new scheme. And probably the molding and ceiling medallions will all be replaced.” She sighed. “It’s a new era.”
“When did you take to day-drinking?” Merina asked, only half kidding.
Her mother laughed, but it was brief and her smile faded almost instantly. She touched Merina’s arm gently. “Sweetheart. We were going to tell you, but we wanted to make sure there really was no going back. I didn’t expect the locksmith to arrive today.” Her eyes strayed to the door.
Merina’s patience fizzled. “Tell me.”
“Your father and I sold the Van Heusen to Alexander Crane six months ago. At the time, he had no plans on making any changes at all, but now that he’s retiring, the hotel has fallen to his oldest son. Evidently, Reese had a different idea.”
At that pronouncement, Jolie’s normally sunny attitude clouded over. Merina knew the Cranes. Crane Hotel was the biggest corporate hotel outfit in the city, the second biggest in the nation. Alexander (better known as “Big Crane”) and his sons ran it, local celebrities of sorts. She’d also read about Big Crane’s retirement and Reese’s ascension.
But none of that mattered. There was only one newly learned fact bouncing around in her brain. “You sold the Van Heusen?”
She needed that chair after all. She sank into it, mind blanking of everything except for one name: Reese Crane.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Merina stood up again. She couldn’t sit. She could not remain still while this was happening. Correction: this had happened. “Why didn’t you talk to me first?”
“You know we’d never include you in our financial difficulties, Merina.” Jolie clucked her tongue.
Financial difficulties?
“Bankruptcy was not an option,” Jolie said. “Plus, selling gave us the best of both worlds. No financial responsibility and we get to keep our jobs.”
“With Reese Crane as your boss!” Her mind spun after she said it aloud. My God. Would they all be answering to that arrogant, idiotic…“No.” Merina strode past her mother. “This is a mistake.”
And there had to be a way to undo it.
“Merina!” her mother called after her as Merina bent and collected the discarded doorknob. She strode through the lobby, dumping the remainder of her latte in the wastebasket by the front desk, and then stomped outside.