Dancing To The Altar (Holliday Islands Resort Book 2) Read online

  Why Dan wasn’t interested in Marcy, he would never know. She was beautiful, discreet and could manage the office while keeping Dan in line.

  His second son.

  The quiet one.

  He recalled the day his son was placed in his arms. Lorelei was still recovering, and Gordon had his face pressed against the glass at Anchorage Hospital. A nurse came out and asked if he wanted to hold his son.

  He couldn’t believe it. He had two sons.

  Gordon had been separated from Lorelei during the long hours of labor and delivery. Instead of being next to his wife, he was sent to an all-male waiting room, where expectant fathers paced, fidgeted, smoked and waited for any news. Policies rapidly changed by the birth of his third son and he made sure he was with his wife for the birth of the next six boys.

  When the nurse led him to an area for new fathers, and placed the tiny bundle in his arms, his eyes filled with tears.

  “He’s a quiet one,” the nurse said, standing in the corner.

  “Hello Dancer,” he coo’d to the infant. The baby simply stretched his arms and scrunched up his legs before visibly relaxing in his father’s arms. It looks like he will do everything in his own time, Gordon thought.

  And that became the truth for Daniel Dancer Holliday. Nothing seemed to shake him, he made sure to be out of the limelight, unlike some of his other brothers.

  Gordon’s eyes glanced to the tabloid paper sitting on the corner of the desk and he shook his head. The boys didn’t think he kept tabs on them, but he knew if they breathed wrong. He couldn’t imagine not using his private detectives to track down someone that Dan had kissed in the elevator.

  They didn’t scoff when he told them the few pieces of information he had, such as the building name, the woman’s name and that she was wearing a costume.

  Money can pretty much buy anything. Information was one of his most expensive commodities. Three days later he had the information in front of him.

  Elle Richey.

  Single. Brunette. A little younger than Dancer, but he was older than Mara, his second wife, when they married. The pictures were stills of news footage. It appeared she was a weather girl and the crazy costumes were part of the station publicity.

  She was pretty to be sure, but all Gordon cared about was she had caught his son’s interest. He picked up the picture and looked at it once more.

  She was wearing a silly Easter Bunny costume. It looked like one of those pajama things from that holiday movie. Gordon only recognized it because the boys would play the movie non-stop when they were younger.

  A knock on the door broke his concentration. “Come in,” he called. His secretary, Bettie, popped her head in the door.

  “Ms. Reese had an appointment with you.”

  “Send her in.”

  Evelyn Reese came all the way from New York to help Gordon with his dilemma. His sons thought she was a possible investor, but nothing could be further from the truth.

  If they only knew.

  Gordon shook the thoughts off as a pretty blonde woman walked into his office and sat down on an overstuffed leather chair in front of his desk.

  “Bettie gave me this,” she said, handing Gordon a bottled water. “I’ve never heard of it before.”

  Gordon lifted the bottle and looked at the red and blue label. It was decorated with mountain peaks surrounded by several tribal emblems, a bear and an eagle.

  “Dan has a soft spot for the people in the village that collect and filter the water. I thought I’d purchase a few cases to help them out.”

  Evelyn took a sip of the water and then recapped the bottle. “It’s very good,” she said with surprise in her voice. “How many did you purchase, if I may ask,” Evelyn asked softly.

  “A thousand.”

  “That’s twenty-four thousand bottles.”

  Gordon gave her a wink. “She’s pretty and she can do math too.”

  Evelyn laughed. “I didn’t come in here to talk about bottled water.”

  “I know. Let me put this aside, and we can get down to business.”

  “May I?” Evelyn asked, reaching out for the photo Gordon was shoving inside a folder.

  “I think it is a wild goose chase.”

  “What are you chasing her for?” Evelyn asked, lifting her eyebrow.

  Gordon rubbed his hand down his face and reached for his bottle, uncapping it as he spoke. “It was something Dancer mentioned to me. I guess he had an encounter with this woman, and it made an impression.”

  “You think she’s the one?”

  “I don’t know. But the only time I’ve ever seen that boy’s face light up is when he is talking about one of those blasted TV shows.”

  Evelyn took the picture and looked at it. “I think I know who this is.”

  “Personally?” Gordon asked, excitement evident in his voice.

  “No. No. I think she reports the weather on one of those local cable channels.” Gordon handed her a folder.

  “This is everything I know so far. No one has seen her for about two weeks. It is like she disappeared from the face of the earth.”

  “Your detectives could certainly find her.”

  “I’ve had them outside her apartment for a week. There hasn’t been any movement. Not even to the store.”

  “Anyone delivering groceries?”

  “What?”

  “I asked if anyone was delivering groceries. One of the great things about the city is every corner has a bodega that delivers groceries. Those men and women know everything going on in their communities.”

  “I’ll mention it once I talk to the detectives.”

  “They should already know something like that, though.” Evelyn shrugged and flipped through the pictures in the file.

  “She’s pretty.”

  “Dancer seems to think so.”

  Evelyn pulled out a picture and flipped it around to show Gordon. “I do remember her. Elle on a Shelf.”

  “That’s an odd name.”

  “No.” Evelyn placed the picture down on the desk and tapped it. “She was known as Elle on the Shelf. Showed up for her first weather report in an elf costume.” Evelyn pulled out her phone and spoke into it.

  When the automated voice answered, she scrolled through the page until she found what she wanted. She tapped the screen and turned the phone around to face Gordon.

  There on the screen was the woman in question. It looked like she was dressed up in pajamas with her hands covered in large white mittens. She moved them in exaggerated motions in front of a green screen.

  When the video was over, Gordon pointed to the phone. “What’s that next one?”

  Evelyn flipped her phone around. “Local weather celebrity shares more than the weather.” Evelyn tilted her head to the side. “Hmmm,” she said pressing the play button.

  The video was taken in a dark studio. All lights were directed towards the two reporters on stage. Gordon could see Elle on the far side of the stage standing in the shadows. She handed something dark to the person next to her and proceeded to walk towards the stage.

  “What’s she wearing?” Gordon asked, pointing to the screen.

  Evelyn hit pause and turned the screen back around, using her fingers to zoom into the picture. “It looks like she’s just wearing leaves.”

  “That’s it?” Gordon asked. He couldn’t believe that a news station would allow anyone to dress like that. Evelyn pressed play again.

  Giggles could be heard through the recording, along with a voice saying, “Turn it on now.”

  Suddenly the roar of a fan was heard, and the leaves attached to the costume could be seen moving against the woman. Gordon watched as she shrieked and ran from the stage to the peals of laughter coming from behind the camera.

  “I wouldn’t want to be found, either,” Evelyn said, shutting off the phone and slipping it back in her pocket. “What do you want to do?”

  Gordon looked at her. “First, we need to find her and see if she wil
l come here and work on Dan’s show. Second, I need to find out who was behind this video. My son owns that building now, and I don’t take kindly to anyone disrespecting a professional woman.”

  Evelyn nodded. “So, we will find this lady for Dan.”

  Gordon liked the way she said we. He nodded and took another sip of water. Placing the bottle back on the desk, he rubbed his hands together like he was concocting a plan. “Let’s go ahead and talk about the rest of the boys.”

  “Go away,” Elle yelled to the door. She was still in her pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. The fact it was two o’clock in the afternoon didn’t matter. She might shower around three. Might.

  It had been two weeks since Elle walked out of the studio. She started job hunting immediately and sent out resumes to most of the major news stations but hadn’t had a prospect yet. Perhaps those stations didn’t like whimsical meteorologists?

  “I don’t want visitors,” she shouted again.

  “I come bearing Maman!” the voice called from behind the wooden door.

  She jumped up from the sofa, her blanket still around her shoulders. It floated behind her like a cape. She flung the door open and there was her friend with a disposable tray holding two paper cups and a box tied in a string.

  “Pierre!” she cried, wrapping her arms around her friend.

  “Let me put these down before I spill.”

  Elle held the door open ushering Pierre inside. She took the box from Pierre.

  She glanced across the street from her brownstone and noticed an unremarkable black car parked against some bushes. It looked like the driver was holding a camera in his hand.

  Elle shrugged. They must be following the couple next door. She thought they were a little weird, but to each their own.

  With her free hand she closed the door and pulled a tissue from her pocket. Wiping her nose, she tossed the tissue into a trash can by the door and walked into the living room. She placed the treats on the table next to the sofa and looked at her friend.

  Pierre looked her up and down. “You look like death, Elle. What has happened to you?”

  “Depression,” she said flinging herself over the arm of the sofa, planting her face in the cushions and pulling a blanket over her head. “I’ve decided I’m going to spend the rest of my days in a burrito blanket emotionally eating.”

  “Get up and go get dressed.”

  Elle turned her face to the side, her lips pushing out like a duck as she pressed her cheek further into the sofa cushions.

  “Why?”

  “Because I brought hot chocolate and today is a good day to rejoin the human race.”

  “What?” Elle lifted herself from the sofa and swung her legs around, so she was sitting up straight.

  Pierre placed the paper cups, still in the cardboard tray on the coffee table. “No one had heard from you or seen you. So today, I called out sick to check on you. I decided to say forget-you to all those folks working at K-N-U-T-S and gorge myself on pastries. Who cares if my skin breaks out?” He wrestled one of the cups from the tray and handed it to Elle. “It is mint chocolate.”

  Elle took the lid off the cup and inhaled the sweet mint mingled with dark chocolate. She took a sip and sighed. It was delicious. “I normally get a macadamia nut chocolate, but this is so good!” She took another sip.

  “I know,” Pierre said, removing his coat and draping it over a chair. He took the second cup from the tray and opened the top taking a sip. “You have the same thing every time you go there. I said let’s do something different today. We need to live large, Elle.” He waved his hand in the air.

  Elle sank back in the sofa cushions, pulling her blanket a little tighter around her she took another sip of her hot chocolate. “I don’t even know if I should ask how things are going down there.”

  “There will be no talk of work right now,” he said putting his cup down on the table. He pulled the box with the cellophane window towards him, untying the string to peek inside.

  He handed Elle a napkin and lifted the box towards her.

  Elle peered inside. There were several different types of treats – mini eclairs, cake balls rolled in beautiful sugared crystals, apple tarts, and a slice of cake.

  “I didn’t know what you would be in the mood for.”

  “Everything.” Elle took a small apple tarte tatin and bit into the decadent pastry. The sugar and cinnamon mingled on her tongue. “Thank you, Pierre for the treat. I haven’t been to Maman in a few weeks.”

  “Two weeks isn’t that long.”

  “It is when you are missing these,” she said popping the last bite of the pastry in her mouth.

  She picked another treat from the box. “Thank goodness I don’t need to fit into that silly elf costume this year.” She popped a frosted cake ball in her mouth before peering into the box again. “I might even have two.” She picked up the one with chocolate frosting and red sugar. “It’s a good thing Andy can’t see me.” She shrugged and took a bite from the cake ball.

  “He didn’t know what he had, doll. You are going places.”

  After eating the second cake ball and finishing her hot chocolate she looked at Pierre. “Now I feel sick.” She gave a half-laugh, half cry. “Depressed and sick.”

  Pierre laughed. “Put these in the refrigerator. You can eat them later this week.” His expression turned serious. “How’s the job hunt going?”

  Elle wrapped the blanket back around her and dropped her head to the arm of the sofa. “I thought you said no talk of work.” She gave a little hiccup. “It’s terrible. I’ve sent out several resumes and haven’t heard back at all. No one wants a frumpy elf.”

  Pierre laughed. “Elle, there is nothing frumpy about you.” He wiped the crumbs off his hands and finished his drink. “Go, get in the shower,” he said, closing the box. “Tonight, we go out to celebrate.”

  Elle bit her finger. “Celebrate?” that sounded expensive and right now Elle was watching every penny until her next job came through.

  “Yes. We are going to go check out that new sushi place on the corner.”

  Elle thought for a moment. “How about we just order a pizza and then watch a movie? I really am not up to going anywhere.”

  Pierre looked at her. “Only if you get cleaned up and put on some real clothes. Those pajamas look like they should be burned.”

  Elle laughed. “I can do that.” Elle picked up the remote and pointed it at the TV.

  “… Do you have what it takes to be the official Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus?” the woman on the TV asked. “The search continues, and filming is due to start soon.”

  “I’ll order a pizza,” Pierre said, pulling out his phone. “How about Georgios?” he asked, naming one of the more popular pizza eateries in the small borough. “I can set a time for delivery.”

  “Sure,” Elle said, unable to pull her eyes from the screen. The newscaster was showing a line of folks dressed up in holiday garb standing in front of video cameras recording their audition videos. “What do you think of that?” Elle asked, waving at the television with her remote.

  “Think of what?”

  “That search for the official Mr. and Mrs. Claus?”

  Pierre stopped scrolling on his phone. “I think they’ll get some interesting characters, that’s for sure.”

  “I remember hearing about that the day I left the station.”

  “That was probably because the big-wig that produces the show was in town.”

  “Really?”

  Pierre nodded. “I think he came through the studio.” Pierre pressed his screen and then lifted the phone to his ear.

  “I wonder what it is like in Alaska,” she mused.

  “Cold,” Pierre replied. “Yes. I’d like to order a pizza for delivery around five o’clock.”

  Elle rose and headed towards her bedroom. “Make sure you get a pineapple and jalapeno for me. Extra thin crust,” she called over her shoulder.

  Pierre made a face. “I don’t
know how you can eat that combination,” he said.

  Elle laughed. “Don’t knock it unless you try it.”

  Chapter 5

  “I found you the perfect hostess.”

  Dancer looked at his father. “What do you mean?”

  Gordon leaned forward on the desk, resting his elbows on the dark wood. “Just what I said. You mentioned you were looking for a hostess, and I found one that would be perfect.”

  “Where did you find her?”

  Gordon waved his hands in the air dismissing Dan’s question. “You were busy. I ran her by Marcy.”

  Dan visibly relaxed. He trusted Marcy implicitly and if she approved the person, then this hostess must be alright.

  “She’ll be arriving tomorrow.”

  “Do I need to send a helicopter to get her?”

  Gordon broke out in a big smile. “Why don’t you do that? In fact, why don’t you go meet her yourself?”

  Dan flipped open his calendar. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  Gordon stood up. “Find a way to make it work.” Dan watched as his father pivoted on his heel and left his office.

  Marcy knocked on the door and approached the desk. “Mr. Holliday, there has been a man calling non-stop to talk to you.”

  Dan leaned back in his chair, steepling his hands in front of him. He placed his two index fingers against his chin. “Who is it?”

  “Andrew Grayson.”

  Dan winced at hearing the name. “Go ahead and patch him through.” Marcy nodded. “One more thing, if that’s alright?”

  “Of course.”

  “What do you know about this hostess Dad found for the show?”

  “I know you were busy with the auditions, and when her name came across my desk I knew you wouldn’t want to pass her by. Miss Richey will be here tomorrow, I think.”

  “What experience does Miss Richey have?”

  Marcy looked up at the ceiling in thought. “She’s been in television for a few years now. Hosted her own segment of a popular news show. She’s loved by the people she’s influenced and seems to be the girl next door type, which is perfect for what you need.”

  Dan nodded. “Good job. That is one less thing I have to worry about. Any chance you can go meet her tomorrow in Anchorage?”