a daughter named Rose who spent her life confined to a wheelchair. That man not only named this place for her, but also designed the entire first floor for her benefit.”
She waved a hand. “If you’ll notice, many of the decorative carvings and embellishments are at chair-rail height. There are no raised thresholds, and the owner’s suite is on the first floor.”
“Quite sentimental. But I doubt any future guests will know that story.” He ignored her outraged look. “We need a name that carries meaning today.”
She leaned back, her expression issuing a challenge. “I suppose you have something more appropriate in mind?”
“Simple is better. Naming it the Madison or the Madison House after its new owner strikes me as an appropriate choice.”
She wrinkled her nose, obviously unimpressed. “Is that really what Judge Madison wants?”
“He didn’t say one way or the other, but I can’t imagine he’d object. He usually goes with my recommendations on such matters.”
Her face suddenly lit up. “I know. Why don’t we call it the Madison Rose Hotel?”
It was his turn to be unimpressed. Why did she have to challenge him on every front? “The Madison Rose? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Actually, I think it has a nice ring to it. It embraces the hotel’s history while acknowledging the new ownership.” She stabbed a carrot with enthusiasm, obviously convinced she’d settled the matter.
He rubbed his jaw, deciding he should pick his battles. “As a compromise, I suppose it’s not a bad choice.”
She nodded as if his agreement had been a foregone conclusion, then glanced around the room. “I still think we can use the rose as a theme for our decor.”
That again. “If you’re thinking of using shades of red or pink throughout—”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Not to excess. Just touches here and there. And I plan to interlace it with spring green. Trust me, it will be tasteful.”
Seth withheld comment. Whether they were in accord on their definitions of tasteful remained to be seen.
* * *
While the conversation so far hadn’t gone as she’d hoped, Abigail decided there was reason to be optimistic. Mr. Reynolds seemed willing to keep an open mind. And since he wasn’t planning to hire someone to fill the hotel-manager position until the renovation neared completion, she had time to prove herself capable. If he himself trained her, how could he refuse to hire her when the time came?
The rest of the meal passed pleasantly enough. Once they’d finished, her companion pulled out his pocket watch and flicked it open.
“Do you have another appointment?” Abigail had hoped they’d have more time to discuss their working arrangement.
He put his watch away. “I’ve asked Mr. Crandall to have everyone gather in the kitchen at two o’clock for a short meeting.”
He stood, placing his napkin on the table. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s almost that time.”
She quickly stood as well. “I’ll join you.”
He raised a brow. “I assumed you already knew everyone.”
“I do. But I think we should introduce ourselves from the outset as partners. We can also let them know what to expect both during construction and after.”
He didn’t seem pleased with the idea, but he waved a hand toward the kitchen, indicating she should precede him.
Flashing her brightest smile, Abigail moved past him toward the kitchen. At least now he knew she intended to be a full partner in this undertaking.
People tended to treat her like a naive little girl to be patted on the head and humored. Hopefully, Mr. Reynolds would now take note that she was more than that.
If not, she’d just have to keep giving him reasons to take note.
Abigail stepped into the kitchen to find all the staff assembled, looking as if they were about to meet their executioner.
She supposed it was natural for them to be concerned since they were exchanging one boss for another. Hopefully she and Mr. Reynolds would be able to set their minds at ease.
Since the construction began and the number of guests they were accommodating had been cut back, the hotel staff had also been reduced from six to three. In addition to Della Long, there was Ruby Mills, the maid, and Larry Scruggs, the night clerk.
Mr. Crandall stepped forward as soon as she and Mr. Reynolds entered the kitchen. “Folks, this is Mr. Seth Reynolds, who’s come here as the new owner’s representative to oversee all the construction work being done. And you all know Abigail Fulton. She’s going to be working with Mr. Reynolds while he’s here.”
The man then turned to the three staff members standing behind him and introduced each in turn. When he’d finished, Mr. Reynolds took control of the conversation.
“I want to assure you that even though Mr. Crandall is leaving tomorrow, everything will remain as it is for the time being.”
Abigail noticed that the three employees were each reacting to Mr. Reynolds in their own way. All had obviously taken note of his cane. Larry couldn’t seem to meet the man’s gaze, Ruby appeared unable to tear her gaze away from the cane and Della appeared merely curious.
Mr. Reynolds continued speaking in the same businesslike manner, seeming not to notice anything amiss. “Over the course of the coming weeks, as we expand and redesign the interior of this hotel, we’ll also be looking into menu and service changes that will add to the overall atmosphere we wish to provide to our guests.”
Abigail almost rolled her eyes. Was he trying to reassure the staff or make them more anxious? “Not that there’s anything wrong with the meals and service you’ve been providing,” she said as he paused. “We merely want to try a different approach, something to go with the new look the hotel will have when the renovation is complete.”
He shot her an irritated look, then continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ll be talking individually with each of you over the coming days to discuss these changes and how they will affect your responsibilities. I’ll also answer any questions you have and work up a timetable.”
“In the meantime,” Abigail added, “we know you’ll continue to offer your usual high quality of service.” She turned to the former owner. “We also want to let you know that we wish you and your sister the medical cure you’re seeking in Chicago and that our prayers will be with you both.”
The rest of the staff nodded and offered their well wishes. Even Mr. Reynolds had the grace to do the same.
After that the meeting broke up. As they moved back to the lobby, Mr. Reynolds cut her a sideways glance. “I take it you don’t approve of the way I handled the staff.”
“Perhaps a bit more empathy in the way you deliver your information wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Mollycoddling employees rarely provides the desired results. They are Judge Madison’s employees, not our friends.”
“They can be both. And being kind isn’t the same as mollycoddling. Employees who feel valued are employees who will go the extra mile for you.”
“And just how many employees have you dealt with thus far?”
Her cheeks warmed. “None, of course. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to deal with people.”
“People are not the same as employees.”
Before she could respond, he changed the subject. “Would