Chapter Fifty-Nine
‘My dear, you were excellent,’ Walter said to his daughter from his desk in the large plush office on the fourth floor of the Alpenrose.
Vivian smiled, graciously.
She had just hosted the monthly business breakfast, for all of Kristalldorf’s movers and shakers.
A select group met monthly to talk about issues in the town, taking it in turns to chair the meeting, and today Vivian Steinherr had been at the helm.
She knew her pride was at stake after the Kivvi Christingle last weekend, but Vivian did what she did best: held her head high, put on a smile, and ensured the boardroom table was brimming with pastries, juices and artisan sausage rolls, all provided by Tomasso, the head chef at the Alpenrose.
She led the meeting by talking about urgent business for peak season and Christmas, and asked all the hoteliers present to share room occupancy, so that everyone could get a handle on how busy the town, its hotels and restaurants would be, as it affected them all.
Everyone was courteous and reported back.
No one made a mention of her boyfriend sleeping with her sister and being punched to the floor by Walter’s attorney.
Samuel Sommar had attended as usual, raising the issue of the lack of accommodation in town for the workers.
Oliver Koch wanted to talk about April’s music festival, Kristalldorf Sessions, and said he had sponsored a new big top for the central venue.
Walter Steinherr announced he wanted to freeze the ski lift prices for next year, which was met with raised eyebrows from Koch and Sommar.
Walter had increased the Kristallpass price every year they could remember.
And Alexey Stognev, who usually shunned the monthly business breakfast, asked about planning permission for a full heliport up at Vitreum, which the others had shot down.
‘We can’t be a carless village with two heliports chugging overhead!’ Sommar protested. ‘It’s enough you have a permit for one helicopter to land up there! It’s a protected wildlife area!’
Stognev looked surly, muttered something in Russian under his breath, and lamented wasting his time by coming.
Notable in his absence was Tristan Du Kok, who sometimes attended, but wasn’t expected to today, given the brouhaha of the weekend.
Viktor Kivvi never attended, because hospitality wasn’t his game, and the founding fathers liked to keep it that way.
Vivian would have liked Tristan to attend so the coward could look her in the eye.
The business leaders wished each other a happy Christmas season and scheduled to reconvene on 6 January at Grand Hotel Sommar on the square, and Vivian followed her father into his office for the debrief.
‘Thank you, Daddy,’ Vivian said, relieved it had gone well, relieved to be back in her MO as hospitality badass and not sobbing victim. ‘I still want more women in hospitality in this town. Those guys are all so stuffy and stuck in their ways. Samuel aside …’
Vivian sat in the chair opposite her father’s desk.
‘Well, we’re down one woman at the moment,’ Walter said ruefully.
Vivian looked at him with her winsome gaze. She was furious at her sister, but still felt regret for their father.
‘Have you heard from her?’
Walter shook his head.
‘She’s been in contact with Dimitri,’ he conceded. ‘She’s gone to rehab, but I don’t know where, or how long for …’ he said sadly.
‘Daddy, it’s not your fault!’ Vivian said, although she could see it was delicate for their father. She tapped the notepad she’d brought into the meeting but never used; she would write up the minutes from memory back at the Anna Maria. Vivian had an excellent memory.
‘Any word from Caspian about Christmas?’ she asked, hopefully.
Walter shook his head and looked out of the window. Kristalldorf was picture perfect from the office. Snow covered the village, and he could see Christmas decorations were being put up on the street below. If only he could have all his children home, he thought.
It might be my last.
‘Lysander said something about Hawaii,’ Walter said, wistfully.
‘I’m going to get back to the Anna Maria,’ Vivian said, ‘I’ll take a pastry but don’t forget to have one yourself,’ she said. She was worried about her father. He was losing weight and looking frail.
‘Of course!’ he said, humouring her.
She kissed him on his bald head and walked out towards the elevators.
As the doors closed on her she breathed a sigh of relief to have got through that first meeting when she had been so exposed.
Her father was determined, but so was she.
She’d got through the worst humiliation of her life, surely she could get over Tristan Du Kok.