LISA

"Rosie, wait." I handed Jennie our coffee cups and jogged to stop my sister before she could sprint out the door.

"You knew." Her nostrils flared. "How long have you guys been talking about this behind my back?"

"A little while."

"Fine." She tried to sidestep me, but I blocked her path. "If you want the hotel, it's yours."

"I don't." The reason I'd been avoiding this topic was because I'd always known what was in my heart. As my parents came rushing across the lobby, I looked over Rosie's shoulder and told them the same. "I don't want the hotel. It's never been mine."

"Because it's mine." Rosie gritted her teeth. "And none of you think I can handle it."

"We never said that." Mom came to her side, touching her elbow.

Rosie jerked her arm away. "You think I'm too soft."

"You have a big heart." Dad came to stand by my side. "That's not a bad thing. But this is a huge responsibility. We thought Lisa might be able to take our place. Be there to give you some guidance."

Jennie inched closer, listening but staying back.

Rosie's eyes flooded with angry tears. "You should have told me, Lisa."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"This is because of the lawsuit, isn't it? I was trying to be a nice boss!" Rosie's voice carried through the room. "I had no idea he was going to sue us. And I never, ever harassed him. I'm sorry. I screwed up. How many times do I have to say sorry?"

I held up my hands, hoping to calm her down before a guest came wandering through. "How often does she need your input, Dad?"

"Lately, not much," he said. "Earlier this year . . ."

"Earlier this year I didn't have Jennie." A tear dripped down my sister's cheek.

Jennie's eyes swung to mine and went wide. She didn't understand how much she did here, did she? She had no clue how hard it was to find someone reliable and hardworking. She had no idea how much Rosie loved her.

There was no way Jennie would clean rooms for her entire life, but it had given Rosie a standard. A bar with which to measure everyone. I'd seen her hold the other housekeepers to a higher level. I'd seen her push them to do a better job.

And they were performing.

"I know I'm soft." Rosie's chin began to quiver. "I'm trying. So hard. But you've already made the decision. I'm not good enough."

Dad's face paled. Mom closed her eyes.

"That's not it, Rosie." I stepped close and put my hand on her shoulder.

"It is. Maybe I should go. Start again in another town."

Mom's eyes flew open. "No."

"Just . . . hold up." A pair of guests walked through the lobby. I nodded as they passed us by, and then when the place was clear, I jerked my chin for everyone to follow me to the fireplace.

"You too," I told Jennie when she hung back.

"This is a family discussion," she whispered.

"And you're part of the family." I had the ring in my pocket to prove it. So I took her elbow and steered her to a couch, putting her on one side with Rosie on my other, waiting as Mom and Dad took the love seat.

I leaned forward on my elbows. "I don't want more than the restaurant."

Maybe I had earlier this year. Before Jennie. Before Leo. But if I added anything to my plate, it wasn't going to be here. It would be at home.

I wanted the flexibility to coach Leo's sports teams if he was into sports. Or take him to piano lessons or to the pool. I wanted more kids. I wanted nights at home on Edelweiss Hill with my wife.

Not longer hours in town.

"I'll take over the hotel," I said, reaching over to put my hand on Rosie's knee before she could bolt off the couch, "until you're ready. If Mom and Dad want to settle their estate, pass it down, then I'll take it until you're ready."

She scowled. "I'm—"

"Not ready." I gave her a soft smile. "You know you're not. Not yet. But you will be. There's no rush."

"No, there isn't a rush." Dad sighed. "If Lisa doesn't want it, we can keep on with things as they are. This whole mess with Briggs, his dementia getting worse, it has me spooked. We just didn't want to leave anything unsettled in case something bad happens."

"We know you love this hotel," Mom told Rosie.

"Then don't take it from me," she pleaded and faced me. "Are you worried about me ruining it?"

"No," I admitted. She'd work herself to the bone before that happened.

"We'll leave it," Mom declared. "We'll give it time."

Rosie's shoulders fell. "Thank you."

Jennie dropped her chin, but not before I caught the ghost of a smile on her lips.

She'd been right. This was Rosie's hotel.

The bell at the front desk dinged and we all looked over to see a guest at the counter.

Rosie wiped at her eyes and rushed away.

Mom shook her head. "That went well."

"You were right." Dad sighed. "We shouldn't have brought it up today."

"Brought what up?" I asked.

"We had a conversation with Haruto this morning. He's moving."

"What?" I sat up straight. "Where? Since when?"

Mom dabbed the corner of her eye. "He's been looking for jobs in Alaska. He came over this morning to tell us he was hired as a pilot."

Shit. We were finally all in Quincy and now he was leaving.

"Haruto's a pilot?" Jennie asked.

I nodded. "He got his license in college."

"We came to tell Rosie," Dad said. "She said she knew. He told her about it but asked her not to say anything. I got frustrated and might have said something I shouldn't have said about her communication skills."

"It digressed from there," Mom muttered.

And in it all, they'd told her that they'd asked me to take over the hotel.

"Come on, Anne." Dad stood from his seat. "Let's go home before I get myself in more trouble."

Mom stood and followed him away from the fireplace, but he stopped before he could go too far, turning to look at Jennie.

"We're so glad you're here. I don't know if Rosie has told you that or not."

Jennie nodded. "She has. Almost daily."

Dad glanced over at my sister, who looked as happy and cheerful as she did any day. Like this argument had never happened. Later, when the guests were gone, she'd let down her façade. But right now, she would smile for the guests because this was her place.

"I think maybe I haven't been in here enough," he told Mom but his gaze was locked on Rosie.

"I think we've both missed a few things." She took his hand, then pulled him toward the door.

"Damn." I rubbed my hands over my face. "Didn't expect that today."

"For what it's worth, I think you made the right decision."

"I do too." I watched my sister hand the guests their room keys. "Are you done for today?"

"Pretty much. I'll see what Rosie needs. Do you still want to stay here tonight?"

"Yes." Maybe I wouldn't wait until Christmas to give her this ring. Maybe I'd just do it tonight. "See if Rosie will let you go home early. I'll skip out too. We'll go to the house and pack for tonight. I haven't talked to Mom about babysitting yet, but I think after all this, I'll call Ryujin instead."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "We can postpone it."

"I'm sure." I stood and retrieved our coffees. "Niki is handling the restaurant tonight. I've got the wedding and dinner tomorrow. Let me just talk to my staff. Make sure everyone's good."

"Okay." She walked with me to the counter, waiting to talk to Rosie while I returned to Knuckles.

Fifteen minutes later, we were outside and heading to her car. I stole the keys from her hand and opened the passenger door to the Volvo.

We'd be about an hour and a half early to pick up Leo, but that would give Jennie more time with him before we came back to the hotel. More time for me too. The chaotic holiday schedule had kept me from them both.

It wasn't sustainable long-term. I wanted more nights at home than away, which meant I'd have to promote Jaemin and hire another line cook, but it would be worth it.

"How was Rosie?" I asked as I drove across town.

"Mad." Jennie shrugged. "I would be too. She feels like everyone doubts her. But she won't quit. She wants the hotel too much."

"Good."

"Will you do me a favor? I don't want to tell her about my wedding planner thing. Not yet. I don't want to quit the housekeeping crew. Especially now. What Rosie said . . . I won't let her down."

I took her hand. "I know you won't. And we can tell people whenever you want to tell them."

"But . . ."

"Oh, boy."

She smiled. "I know we were waiting for Jill to piss me off again before we yanked Leo. But if your mom is still up for watching him, I'd like to pull him out of daycare."

"Fine by me. Did Jill say something?"

"No. It's just . . . her." Jennie cringed. "I don't like her. I'm tired of him crying when I pick him up. Maybe that won't change with your mom, but that's different."

"Agreed." If Leo loved Mom, it would be because she was his grandma.

"I feel guilty. I just . . . I don't like it there. And he's my son. Not hers."

Actually, he was ours. But that was a correction I'd make once the ring in my pocket was on her finger. "I won't argue. When I picked him up on Monday and he cried, it pissed me off. I get it."

Jennie had been running late so I'd gone to get Leo before the daycare had closed. The moment I'd lifted him from Jill's arms, he'd cried.

Something about the whole situation sat wrong with me. It was like Jill didn't put him down all day. Like she intentionally spoiled him so that he'd want her. Maybe I didn't have a damn clue what I was feeling, but there was something slimy about her. Something that had rubbed me wrong.

Like Jennie, had she been mean to Leo, it would have been easier to pull him away. But that boy adored her.

"We'll ask Mom this weekend," I said. Because the daycare was closed all next week for the holidays, Mom had agreed to watch Leo. "See if we can make this Christmas babysitting permanent."

"I'm sure the daycare will make me give them a thirty-day notice."

"Probably, but as soon as Mom is good to watch him, we're switching."

"Deal." Jennie smiled. "God, I feel lighter already. This might be the last pickup."

"The last jailbreak." I pulled into the parking lot and left the engine running, then followed Jennie inside.

She walked down the hallway for the nursery, stopping inside the door to do a quick sweep of the room. "Hi. Um, where's Leo?"

"Hi." A woman who was not Jill glanced at the clock. "You're early to pick him up."

"So?" I stood behind Jennie and crossed my arms over my chest. "Where is he?"

"They, uh . . ." The woman swallowed hard. "She's not back yet."

"Back from where?" Jennie took a step closer. "What's going on?"

"I need to get my manager." The woman took a step, trying to pass us for the door, but I shifted and blocked her path.

"What the hell is going on?" My heart began to race. "Where's our kid?"

"Jill, um . . . she just left about thirty minutes ago. She took him to her place for a little bit to change some laundry or something. She promised to be back by five."

"She took him?" Jennie's jaw fell open. "She doesn't have my permission to take my child from this building."

"It's just—"

"Next door." Jennie held up a hand. "That's what you said last time."

Without another word, she swept up Leo's car seat and his diaper bag from his hook, then she marched to the center's office, where two older women were chatting.

I stood at Jennie's back and watched her read the riot act to the ladies and immediately pull Leo from their facility. Both claimed they had no idea Jennie hadn't given her approval.

"Jill said you didn't mind. That he could go with her."

"I did no such thing," Jennie barked. "We're done here. You will not see us again."

"We require a thirty-day—"

"Finish that sentence and I'll call my sister-in-law, the chief of police, and let her know that your staff is taking children off premises without parental permission." I leveled the women with a glare. "I believe they call that kidnapping."

Both blanched.

Jennie turned and walked out the doors, looking both ways. Her hands were shaking. "I don't know which house is hers."

"Hang tight." I stormed into the center and demanded Jill's address.

When I came out, Jennie was standing on the sidewalk, the car seat and diaper bag at her feet and her eyes full of worry.

"It's this one." I steered her to the home next door, a small, single-level home with blue siding and a green door. Every window was dark. The porch light was off.

There was nothing but silence as I rang the doorbell over and over. Then I pounded my fist on the door, but it didn't matter. No one was home.

"Are you sure it's this one?" Jennie asked.

"They said blue house next door." Every other home around the daycare was a shade of tan.

I pounded on the door again with no answer.

"What the fuck?" I backed away, scanning the street.

The color drained from Jennie's face. "Where's my son?"