Page 61 of Babies for the Christmas Grump
It’s in that darkened office where the numbers don’t make sense, where something’s wrong…
I can’t let go of that, and nothing my mother does will distract me from what’s important.
And then, without warning, Elaine takes my arm, pulling me toward the back hallway, away from the cameras and the prying eyes.
I can’t even tell if she’s noticed how cold and tight my jaw has become, how my smile is no longer even a faint attempt at politeness.
Once we’re out of earshot, she drops my arm and spins around to face me. The smile disappears. Now, she’s all business.
But I know her too well. There’s more underneath the icy calm, something insidious that she’s about to lay on me.
“I don’t know how you can stand it,” she starts. “This whole charade. You’re playing their game. The press, the hotel’s PR… it’s just a last-ditch effort to make this place work, isn’t it?”
I stiffen. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She gives a knowing look, a glimmer of something sinister behind her sharp eyes. “Oh, don’t play dumb, Ryder. I’ve heard the rumors. The gala, the financials. I’ve heard what’s beenhappening behind the scenes here. Do you really think this hotel is going to survive on your vision alone?”
The accusation in her voice is as clear as the glass between us. She’s not offering concern. She’s trying to undermine me, and she knows damn well that I see it.
I feel the anger start to burn under my skin, but I keep my tone even, trying not to let her irritate me again.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, my words clipped. “This hotel is not some last-ditch effort, as you call it. It’s work. It’s my work. And it’s not for you to judge.”
She smirks, unfazed. “Is it? Because I’ve heard from very reliable sources that your work here is more about keeping the creditors at bay than celebrating your vision.”
She lets the words linger, knowing exactly how to dig in.
Her attempt at sabotage is damn near overwhelming. And I see right through it. It’s not a concern. It’s poison, disguised as worry, meant to plant doubt, to put a crack in everything I’m trying to build here.
I take a step closer, my jaw tight. “Stop. Just stop. You want to know what’s going on? Then maybe you should be a part of my life all the time, not just when it suits.”
She steps back, feigning surprise, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, now you want to act like you’re the grown-up here. What happened to the son I raised, the one who needed his mother’s help to succeed?”
I grit my teeth, the words catching in my throat. “You never helped me, Elaine. You’ve always been about yourself. You’ve never once cared about what I really needed. This hotel, this place, it’s not yours to take credit for, and I’m not your little puppet to parade around for your damn photo ops.”
The silence between us intensifies. It’s as if the air has been sucked out of the room. The anger, the hurt, it’s all rising to the surface, and I can’t hold it back anymore.
And then I realize something.
This isn’t a conversation anymore. It never has been. It’s just a performance, and I’m done with it. I’m done with her.
“Leave. Now,” I snap. “Leave this hotel. Leave my life. Again. I’m not doing this with you anymore.”
Her face falters for just a moment, something flashing behind her eyes. But just as quickly, the mask snaps back into place.
She lets out a soft laugh, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
I don’t answer. I don’t need to.
Elaine stands there for a second longer, her gaze cold, but I can feel the finality of it. She knows I’m done.
“Fine,” she cries out angrily. “You want to push me away? Fine. But remember, Ryder, I’ve always been the one who’s looked out for you. Don’t forget that when this place falls apart.”
With that, she turns, each step louder than the last as she storms toward the exit.
And I watch her go, feeling the moment settle in my chest. The silence after she leaves is almost unbearable, but it’s the kind of silence that’s necessary.
For once, the only thing I need is the truth. And it’s something I’m going to find on my own.
