Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Matthew waited for the woman’s annoying click of her heels to disappear down the hallway before facing his dad again.
“I told you we should have waited until she was gone,” Dad said.
“And you should have told me your plan to hire her before she stood in our home,” Matthew returned.
Dad sighed. “Come. Sit down. We both need to relax.”
He didn’t wait for a response, moving to his usual seat on the large, red single-sofa as Matthew debated remaining in the doorway or perhaps storming out altogether.
He would have chosen the latter had he not still had so much to say, so with thumping steps, he made for the fireplace and warmed his hands that were still chilled from being out in the cold rain.
When he’d first met Winnie Knox, he had been enchanted, charmed. As if hypnotized by a snake.
Incidentally, that wasn’t too far from the truth. Winnie was like a snake. Callous and sneaky. Willing to do whatever she needed to get what she wanted.
Okay, he was coming on a little strong. But how else could he describe a woman who had criticized his home, then took over his festival when she knew nothing—and he meant nothing —about the medieval era at all?
He’d had every intention of entering the study that evening to ruin Winnie’s chances of working at Foxwood. But now? Now he was scrambling to maintain control of his festival. What a nightmare.
“Have you nothing left to say now that Winnie is gone?” Dad asked as Matthew’s mind continued to race.
“I do,” Matthew responded. “I’m only gathering my thoughts.”
“I’ll prepare myself for the barrage, then.”
That wasn’t too far from what Matthew wished to do. Honestly, Dad had lost his mind.
“I just can’t understand what you were thinking by hiring her,” Matthew finally said. “It makes absolutely zero sense.”
“That’s what I was trying to explain to you, but I couldn’t very well do it with the woman standing right there, now could I?” Dad looked away. “Although, you had no qualms with being monumentally unkind to her.”
“I wasn’t unkind,” Matthew said. He cringed at how petulant he sounded.
Truth be told, he had been rude, but he was still too angry to feel badly about it. He also wasn’t in any mood for another lecture, nor another look of disappointment in Dad’s eyes. Matthew had seen enough of that look over the last few years—specifically every single weekend the festival failed.
“Fine,” Matthew relented, if only to assuage his guilt. “I was a little harsh. But it wasn’t unwarranted.” He leaned forward. “Do you know what she said to me on the road when she didn’t know who I was?”
Dad didn’t respond, simply waited for Matthew to continue.
“She criticized the estate. She kept rattling off one thing after another that needed fixing, like Foxwood was just one big flaw. It was ridiculous. ”
Dad stared. “That’s her job, Matthew. I specifically hired her to do that for us.”
Matthew’s defenses slipped through his fingertips like water out of the tap. “Yes, but she was just saying it to me so freely,” he said, scrambling to maintain control. “If she talks to me like that, thinking I was just another worker, who knows what else she’d say about our home—and to whom?”
Dad leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and resting them on his lap. “If anything, I’d say you’re more to blame than she is. You shouldn’t have misled her by not telling her who you are.”
Matthew moved away from the heat of the fire, sitting down on a chair nearby. It was getting too hot to stand near the hearth. Or was it his growing discomfort that was agitating him?
Dad’s condemning look told him the truth.
“You’re right,” Matthew relented begrudgingly, staring into the fire’s flames. “I should’ve told her who I was. And honestly, what she said wasn’t too far from the truth. There is much to improve here.”
But the festival?
His anger from before had dissipated, settling into a disappointed frustration. Dad’s study had always had that effect on him. “I just wish you would have told me beforehand that you hired her to be over the festival,” he continued in a quieter tone. “Or at least hired someone with more experience.”
Dad watched him carefully, taking a moment before responding. “I understand how you feel, Matthew. I do. And I’m sorry for not telling you before tonight what my plans were. I should have.”
Matthew had always appreciated his dad’s humility when he apologized. No excuses were ever made—his words merely pure and truthful.
Matthew could learn a thing or two from him.
“I will say, though,” Dad continued, “that you needn’t worry about her ruining what you’ve created. She’s a professional, as was made evident tonight with her reaction to how you treated her. ”
Matthew looked away. He wasn’t sure he liked where this conversation was headed—turning him into the villain and Winnie into the hero.
“Really,” Dad said, “I have no doubt she will improve the festival and make it profitable once again.”
There it was, the word Matthew despised. Profitable . He knew his festival had failed, costing Foxwood thousands of pounds. He also knew that Dad, while patient with Matthew’s lack of business savvy, was growing frustrated with the waste. Matthew was doing his best, and yet, his best just wasn’t good enough.
“I know what you’re thinking, Matthew,” Dad said as his silence prolonged. “You always get that look when you’re down on yourself. But that’s not what this is, all right?”
Matthew blew out a snort of derision. “How is it not? You’ve lost faith in my ability to revive the festival and have hired an outsider before you have to cancel the festival altogether.”
Matthew watched his father carefully, knowing he’d hit the truth as Dad sighed.
“Matthew, we need help.”
“You mean I need help,” Matthew clarified.
“No, I said we and I mean we ,” Dad insisted. “I need help with the estate, and you need help with the festival. But there is absolutely nothing wrong with needing help.”
Once again, he had to agree with his dad. Foxwood was in a relatively good standing compared to other estates in Yorkshire—and England as a whole—but Dad was wise for seeking help to prevent any future failure.
Matthew hadn’t been so wise with his festival. He was good at many things, but business wasn’t one of them. It just frustrated him to no end that his love and passion for the past wasn’t enough anymore to have his festival succeed. He’d always believed that if he put on an accurate event, with proper food, jousting, costuming, and actions, he’d be able to convince others to love the medieval era like he did. Then they would keep coming back for more. Obviously, he was doing something wrong. He just couldn’t figure out what.
Would Winnie?
Matthew sighed. He hated to admit it, but he was struggling. He had been for years, ever since Dad’s diagnosis of multiple sclerosis when they’d all feared the worse.
In the wake of that illness, Matthew had taken on more responsibility than he’d ever had before, giving up on his own dreams and aspirations to help Mom with her mental health, his sister, Char, with her divorce, his nieces with their lack of a father, and Dad with his illness. Matthew had also taken over sole care of the estate for a few years, which he was sure had taken ten years off his own life. All of this had led him to extreme amounts of stress with no one to rely on but himself.
Now, however, Mom was in a great place, Char and the girls were well cared for by the entire family, and being in remission, Dad had once again taken over Foxwood.
And Matthew? Matthew was left with his festival. The festival he’d built from the ground up. Was it any wonder why he was having a hard time with the idea of relying on a random stranger to help? It made sense to secure the future of Foxwood, but that didn’t prevent the humiliation Matthew was experiencing for having been found wanting.
“Fine,” he said, attempting to be as sensible as his dad. “I agree that I am in over my head. But surely there’s someone better suited to help us.”
“I haven’t just hired her without any thought, you know,” Dad said. “I’ve done my research. Winnie Knox has extensive experience with helping the widest variety of businesses I’ve ever seen into being highly profitable. Dental, fitness, clothing, furniture, mental health—she’s done it all. Not only that, but she also comes from the most lucrative family I’ve ever known. I have no doubt, with her abilities and determination, she will absolutely succeed.”
Matthew had never seen Dad so convinced about a person’s credentials. The way he spoke about the woman almost convinced Matthew to relent.
But Dad’s actions were personal, and Winnie being hired hurt . Matthew’s intelligence, his opinion, had been replaced in a single evening with the mere promise of a bright future and a flash of a pretty New York smile.
“So what would you have me do?” he asked, staring at the wooden floor nearby, his desire to fight slowly seeping away from him. “Stand back and let her do whatever she likes?”
Nothing sounded worse. She’d change the heart of his festival. Remove all historical accuracy. Turn it into—ugh— A Knight’s Tale .
“For the time being, yes,” Dad said. “Allow her opinions and ideas to flourish. I’m certain you’ll be glad that you did. But do not hesitate to give your advice and your expertise where it’s needed, as I’m sure she’ll be grateful for it.”
Matthew snorted in disbelief. “Yes, because consultants are known for their easy-going personalities and persuadable opinions.”
Dad ignored him. “Either way, you only have to last a matter of weeks. We’ll postpone the festival for a few weeks until it’s ready again, then she’ll be helping me with the estate.”
“Providing she proves herself,” Matthew said.
“I have no doubt that she will.”
Matthew bit his tongue to avoid delivering another derisive scoff. Of course, his reaction was only to mask the embarrassment he still felt for not being able to succeed.
“Matthew,” Dad continued, “I know this is difficult for you. But I hope you know why I’m doing it. You sacrificed so much for your family—for me—giving up your dreams the moment they were being realized so you could care for your ailing father.”
In truth, Matthew didn’t feel like his efforts had been a sacrifice, but he still felt humbled at the gratitude shining in his dad’s blue eyes.
“I want you to know how greatly I appreciate you,” Dad continued. He leaned forward, wincing as he did so. “That is the real reason I hired Winnie. I’m certain that if you listen to her ideas with an open mind, she will change our lives—and only for the better. Just give her a chance. That’s all I ask.”
It took everything within Matthew to finally nod.
Fine. He would give the consultant a chance. But if she came up with some horrendous idea that tanked the festival and made her look terrible to Dad, Matthew would have no choice but to let her dig her own grave.
Yes, that’s exactly what he would do. Then he’d get rid of her sooner, and Little Miss Winnie Knox would take her well-formed legs and dark bun and smooth skin back to New York.
Because that’s where she belonged, and he’d be sure she knew it by the end.