“I think it’s a brilliant idea.” Lydia tipped her head toward him. “You don’t ice fish. Ever. What made you think of it?”
He shrugged. “Winters come, and they stick. We’d get a lot of free marketing out of it. Local TV crews, internet, word of mouth. We give it a blast on the website, on social media.”
“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.”