He's Captured My Heart (Captured Series Book 1) Read online

  “Oh, Libby.” Ethan has tears rolling down his face.

  “Don’t—everything will work out,” I tell him as I wrap my arms round him. We sit cuddled on the couch, something we’ve not done in a long time. The tears keep rolling, and deep down I know he hasn’t cried like this since Lindsay’s death. This is what he needs to help with the grieving process.

  Of course it’s not long until the tears are running down my face too. We’ve shared a few tears since the accident but nothing like this. Ethan’s been sitting for weeks on end just staring into space. “Ethan, please. I didn’t mean to upset you. Please stop crying.” I wipe the tears off his face and see a slight smile.

  “Libby, I have tears because I know you’re right—just like you usually are. If I’m honest with you, it’s just…I’m scared to do this on my own,” he says. “Lindsay would have been such a great mother. And yes, I miss her like crazy. There’s not a day I don’t think about her.” He stops and sighs. “I know she would hate seeing me the way I’ve been lately. I had a lot of time to reflect on these last few months while I was away. Lucy, work, friends, family, but most of all the future —I thought about it all.”

  “Ethan, we’re all here for you—Mum, Dad, me, Lindsay’s family. We all want to help, but you do have to start doing some things for yourself.” I pause to judge his reaction. “Maybe you could think about joining a baby group, look into returning to work, and ring Stephen to arrange a night out. He’s missed you, and he doesn’t know how to help. You can’t go on sitting behind four walls doing nothing.”

  He nods. Well, it’s a start.

  Stephen is Ethan’s closest friend. He also just happens to run the leisure complex at the hotel. I’ve been giving him up-to-date reports on how Ethan’s doing since my brother has stopped returning his calls.

  Ethan and I sit talking for ages about the holiday, what I’ve been up to whilst he was away, and my plans for the hotel, not to mention Ethan’s plans for the future. He’s thinking of going back to work on a part-time basis. He works for an advertising company, and he was promoted a few months before Lindsay’s death. They’ve been great with him about the time off he’s needed. He assures me that he will get in touch with Stephen over the next few days. It’s great just sitting, catching up. This is the brother I remember.

  “So do you want a hand packing?” he asks.

  “Nope, it’s all done. Even my cases for the hotel are in my car,” I reply. I don’t know how I managed to find the time to do it with work, but it’s all done.

  “Well, come on. Let’s go next door to my place and put Mum and Dad out of their misery…and maybe phone out for take-away. And Libby…thanks for today. It’s what I needed.” He gives me a tight hug. I love him dearly.

  Mum and Dad look relieved that Ethan and I are still on speaking terms when we go in, although Dad is giving me that I told you everything would be fine look. We spend the evening playing with Lucy, watching TV, and just talking about nothing of great importance. It’s great. Just reminds me of growing up, I suppose. We were lucky; we had a great childhood and fantastic parents. Don’t get me wrong. We had some ups and downs, but the ups outweighed the downs. The downs we don’t really talk about.

  Mum stayed home to look after us and the house whilst dad worked. Sometimes he would be away from home for days with his various clients. Dad always kept us grounded, even though it would have been so easy to slip into spoiled-little-rich-kid mode. We each knew the meaning of hard work from an early age, and we never took anything for granted growing up. And Dad always worked so hard, although when we saw his picture in the papers or on TV with clients, it didn’t look like such hard work. But as we got older, we both realised just how hard Dad’s job could be, especially with some of his more challenging clients.

  I remember one client of Dad’s from when I was about fifteen. The client was an up-and-coming, young actor, and his agent had wanted Dad to get the kid’s name out there. But the actor wasn’t that keen on taking advice; he was more interested in the club scene and girls and drink—not a great combination. I adored him, which led to a whole host of problems. Actually it was a recipe for disaster. And that’s exactly what he cooked up.

  The family woke up one Sunday morning to an article in the paper. The actor had been arrested the previous night for an alleged sexual assault. Dad was furious. We had the media camped out at the bottom of our driveway for weeks, waiting on any info Dad could give them. The young man never did any acting again.

  “Does someone want to phone for some food? I’ll go and get Lucy bathed and ready for her bed,” Mum says.

  “No, Mum, it’s okay. I’ll take care of her. We both need to get used to it,” Ethan says, looking at me with a smile. He takes Lucy off of Mum and heads upstairs.

  Dad looks pleased, Mum less so.

  “Mum, try not worry about him. Ethan and Lucy will be fine, and they’ll still need you. I know that’s what’s bothering you. Mum, we will always need you,” I say.

  “Libby, I love you. Both Dad and I are really proud of the beautiful, thoughtful young woman you’ve become,” Mum says, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

  “Oh, Mum, don’t. There have been enough tears today,” I say as I walk over to the couch and sit beside her so I can give her a reassuring hug.

  We order dinner. By the time it arrives, Lucy has been bathed, dressed for bed, fed, and is sound asleep. I got the privilege of feeding her—well, I did miss her when they were on holiday, and who knows when I will get time again soon? She is such a hungry, wee girl.

  We sit round the table eating and talking. I fill Dad in about the hotel, telling him about what’s been happening and about all of this coming weekend’s events, including the wedding we have on Friday and the charity event for Sunday afternoon. He tells me he’s taking tomorrow off work to spend the day with Mum and that he will come by the hotel first thing Thursday morning to go through the figures. It’s nearly ten o’clock when Dad turns to Mum and says, “It’s time we were going home. I know Libby has an early start as well tomorrow. What time are the removal guys here?”

  “Seven,” I answer. And then the estate agent comes at eight to collect the keys for the new owner. Then I’m heading straight to the hotel. I have a few things I want to take care of tomorrow. Kieran is covering for me.”

  “Oh, all right, Phil…although I did think we could stay here tonight with Ethan,” Mum says, sounding disappointed.

  “Mum, I’m fine. Lucy and I are going over to visit Lindsay’s parents tomorrow. I am sure they’ve missed her,” says Ethan.

  We see our parents out to the car. It’s been an emotional day, and Mum has tears running down her face as she gives Ethan her tightest cuddle.

  “Mum, please don’t. I’ll be fine,” he says. After tonight I’m sure he will be. It will still take time, but he will get there in the end. We stand in the street, Ethan with his arm draped over my shoulder, as we wave them off.

  “Libby I do hope you’ve managed to clear some time off over the weekend,” Dad calls from the car. “Remember I have an Alexander Mathews staying at the hotel. He arrives Thursday afternoon, and I will need you to chat him up, show him about, keep him happy.”

  “Of course I remember! See you Thursday morning. Enjoy your day tomorrow.”

  Ethan laughs, and I know he is laughing at me. I know I have made a face as we turn away from the car. “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing. Just the expression on your face.”

  “Well, I can think of better things to do than spend time with one of Dad’s friends sight-seeing.” I shrug.

  “Libby, I don’t think he’s a friend of Dad’s. A business client maybe.”

  I can’t remember what Dad told me about the man before he went on holiday, only that he told me to pencil in some free time to spend with a client. Actually thinking about it Dad was very vague. Well, this should be fun and interesting. Sight-seeing. It’s not normal practice that a hotel manager would have that much interaction with a guest, but then again Mr. Mathews doesn’t appear to be a normal guest.

  I say good-night to Ethan, telling him to phone me if he needs me, but he reassures me that both he and Lucy will be fine. I know he will be. He has a lot of family and friends who care and want to support him. We hug for a few moments before letting go of each other. I watch him turn and go back inside his home and feel sad, even though I know it won’t be long until I see him again. He’s coming to the charity event on Sunday, although it’s not really his cup of tea. I think he’s only going to keep Mum happy. She practically begged him, saying he needs to get out more. That I can agree with. I hope he’ll see Stephen and that they get a chance to talk.

  I stand for another few minutes just looking at what has been my home for the past couple of years. I’ve had a lot of fun here, and I am taking a lot of memories away with me, both good and bad. I am a great believer that you need the bad so you can better appreciate all that’s good in your life. So here’s hoping the next chapter in mine is just as good.

  2

  WEDNESDAY 15 OCTOBER; the start of the next chapter of my life. The removal guys were bang on time and were very quick and efficient, so all my things will now be in storage until I find a new place. The estate agent has also been and gone. I am not as sad or upset as I thought I would be—maybe because Ethan stayed indoors, and I’ve not caught so much as a glimpse of him at the window, which is a good thing since he would probably only set off my tears.

  No, instead I am excited and maybe a bit scared. I’m only twenty-three; my dad must really trust me to leave the day-to-day running of the hotel to me. I just hope all the staff accept me. There have been a few problems over the past few weeks. There are a select few who, I think, still see me as the wee girl that
was always running about the hotel and grounds getting up to no good. But at least most of the main team players support me, so that will be half the battle.

  Today I am off duty so I can get settled into my room. I’m also meeting my friend Kirsty for lunch. With work and taking care of Lucy, I’ve not seen her in weeks. We’ve still spoken every day on the phone, but it’s not the same as seeing each other in person, so I’m looking forward to catching up.

  The drive to the hotel doesn’t take as long as it usually seems to, but that’s mostly because the roads are still quiet with schools still off for a break. The sun is shining, I have the radio on, and I am singing along to Pitbull and Ke$ha’s “Timber.” I have a great feeling about today. It’s been ages since I felt this good. I don’t feel I have to worry about Ethan so much after our talk yesterday. I suppose I’ll still worry, but I am glad that he’s going to start trying a little harder.

  The music is suddenly interrupted. Someone at the hotel is calling my mobile. “Miss Stewart? Sorry to bother you. It’s Sally here. I know it’s your day off, but we have a bit of a problem at reception.” Sally is a lovely girl, about the same age as me, with blond hair and blue eyes. She’s very pretty but also very shy. She’s only been working at the hotel for a few weeks now, but she is extremely efficient at her job. I’d like to think we could become friends.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We have two guests who have arrived a day early.”

  “Okay, but I don’t see why that’s a prob—”

  Sally interrupts me before I finish speaking. “You don’t understand, Miss Stewart,” she says haltingly.

  “For goodness sake, Sally, can you please just spit it out?” I say sharply. “Surely we have rooms for them. I know we weren’t fully booked.”

  “No, we have rooms,” says Sally. “But these guests had originally booked two suites. We don’t have any suites available until tomorrow. I’ve offered them different rooms for tonight and said we’d happily move them tomorrow, but they’re really not happy.”

  “Sally, I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Put them in the sitting room with tea and coffee, and I’ll sort it out when I get there. Try not to let it upset you. It will work out.” Sally does let things get to her. “Sally, what are the guests’ names?”

  “It’s Mr. Mathews and Mr. Smith, your father’s guests,” she answers.

  Dad’s guests. Well, that explains a lot. I wonder if it’s Dad who got the days wrong. I’ll phone him later if I have to; these two sound as if they could be trouble. God, I hope I don’t need to spend too much time with them. I’ll need to start thinking about excuses I can use to get away from them, at least today—my day off!

  “Okay, I’ll see you shortly.”

  So much for being able to get settled in today. I’m hoping that Dad’s guests don’t change my good mood. No, I won’t let them change my good mood. I suppose it won’t be long until I find out. I’m now on hotel grounds. I just need to park my car.

  I pull the car up to the entrance, turn off the engine, and step out, sighing as I look across the loch. The colours at this time of year are stunning, with the warm tones of autumn in the trees against the different shades of green hills in the background. And then there is the calm water in the foreground. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this view, which is still breath-taking, even on a wet, miserable day.

  As my eyes drift along the loch, I find myself mesmerized by the peak of Ben Lomond. It has been a few years since I, myself climbed the peak. There is a tourist path that takes even the most inexperienced walkers up the peak on a gentle rise to the summit at 3,192 feet. At the hotel we try to encourage tourists to make the climb with an experienced walker because if the weather suddenly changes, that smiling, green hill can become treacherous with the wind and rain sweeping across the loch.

  It’s incredible to think that we are less than an hour away from the hustle and bustle of Glasgow city centre. I know that’s why we have so many returning guests; they love this location and our stunning hotel. Who wouldn’t? It’s a great base to go roaming.

  I turn to find Fraser, our doorman, coming down the stairs. Fraser has been at the hotel since I was in my early teens, and he hasn’t changed a bit in all the years I’ve known him. He’s always had grey hair, blue eyes, a loving smile, and a great sense of humour. He reminds me of my grandfather. When Fraser finally decides to retire, I will miss him dearly.

  “Ah, Miss Stewart. You’re looking lovely today, as you do every day,” he says, heading to the boot of my car.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere, Fraser,” I say, smiling.

  “Oh, Miss Stewart, I don’t think Liz would be happy with that. But if I were thirty or so years younger…” he says, laughing. “Let’s get your cases inside, and then I’ll take care of your car.”

  I grab my bag and laptop from the front of car and then go to the boot and pick up a box that Fraser has placed at the side.

  “I don’t think so, Miss,” he says, laughing at me. “Put that back down. I aim to stay in my boss’s good books, so the least I can do is take her things inside. I’ll get them taken up to your room.”

  “I’m more than capable of carrying a few boxes and cases,” I say, “but to humour you, I’ll let you help me if you insist.”

  “I do, Miss Stewart; I’m only doing my job. And anyway, you have a problem to sort out, so I’ll sort out your things,” Fraser says, removing the last of my bags and placing them on a trolley. “Poor Sally is a bit upset. I think the American gave her a really hard time. I could hear him shouting from out here.”

  Its news to me that Alexander Mathews is American. Dad definitely didn’t mention that. I’m picturing a paunchy, boorish man in his forties or fifties, maybe with grey hair and extremely bossy. The idea of having to spend time sight-seeing with him over the next few days makes me feel sick. No wonder Ethan was laughing at me last night. I bet he was in on this; it’s just the type of thing he would have a good laugh at. I suppose I would do the same to him.

  “Well, Fraser, I’ll just have to use some of my Libby Stewart charm then. And if that doesn’t work, we can send the American off to stay with my dad, seeing as he’s here to see him anyway. But I am sure we will sort out the problem. There’s always a solution; it’s just about finding the right one for both parties concerned. And once we have happy guests, Sally will be fine as well.”

  “Not too sure your charm will work on this one. He seems a right grumpy so-and-so. But good luck.”

  I walk up the stairs and head inside. I am still disappointed to see that the log fire in the reception is not burning away, because with our unseasonable good weather, there is not a need for it. Yet. I know it won’t be long. I love walking into this building when it’s on. The warmth hits you straight away, and the glow of the flames only brings home the warm and cosy feel to this reception.

  Sally lifts her head from the front desk. Her expression says, Thank god I don’t have to deal with this anymore. The man standing to the side of the reception desk is talking on his mobile. I can tell from his accent that this is Mr. American. He’s not what I expected. He doesn’t look a day over thirty, and he’s quite dashing in an odd sort of way—very businesslike in his dark, sharp suit and highly polished shoes.

  “M-m-miss Stewart,” Sally stutters.

  “Good morning, Sally. How are you today?” I ask, smiling at her as I walk over to the desk.

  “I was good, but I’m better now you’re here.”

  Mr. American in his sharp suit stops talking into his phone and gives me a strange look. I know what he must be thinking. I am a bit underdressed today in my jeans and T-shirt and trainers, with my hair pulled back off my face. Not the first impression a guest should get of a hotel manager. I must remember not to call him Mr. American when I speak to him.

  He does look pissed, so maybe Fraser was right that my charm won’t work this time.

  I walk over to him and hold out my hand. “Good morning. Mr. Mathews, I presume? I’m Libby Stewart, the hotel manager,” I say, but before I know it, I find myself adding, “It’s my day off.” I shake his hand.