4914987
9780373389452
THE MARDI GRAS MASK was a whimsical concoction of white feathers and sequins. Scarcely longer than Charlotte's hand, it shimmered as it rested on her palm, as weightless--and as fragile--as the trace of a kiss. It was meant to be an adornment, not a disguise, designed to evoke a fairy-tale princess. Of course, fairy tales were for children, as impractical as make-believe and as implausible as happy endings. A person had to find their own luck, just as they had to guide their own fate. Charlotte Marchand had learned long ago that the real world made no allowance for weaknesses, and she couldn't permit herself any now. But dear God, she wished she could still believe in magic. Charlotte blinked, surprised to feel the sting of tears. She pressed her lips together and breathed deeply through her nose until the urge to weep passed. She wouldn't permit herself to fall apart, even here in the privacy of her office. That was a luxury she couldn't afford. Resolutely she placed the mask on the corner of her desk and focused on the stack of printouts in front of her. It was late, and she'd been at the hotel since daybreak, but she still had work to do before she could go home. Somewhere in that pile of numbers there had to be a solution, and it was up to her to find it. The week before Mardi Gras was traditionally the busiest tourist season of the year, the make-or-break time for the New Orleans hospitality business. This year more than ever, countless jobs depended on making it a success. But at the Hotel Marchand, bookings were on a downward spiral. The string of problems that had plagued them over the past several weeks had driven away customers and wiped out their profits. The Marchand family finances had been stretched to the breaking point and couldn't prop up the business indefinitely. Charlotte needed to turn things around within the next seven days or the hotel likely wouldn't see another Mardi Gras. Then again, people flocked to Mardi Gras in order to forget their troubles and cut loose. It was a celebration of possibilities, when anything could happen. Just this once, why shouldn't it happen for her? The mask caught the glow of the desk lamp, setting off a flash of sequins. The feathers shifted on some current of air that Charlotte couldn't feel, making it look as if they stirred on their own, as if by magic... She hesitated, then extended her hand to run a fingertip along the edge of a feather. Forgetting troubles never solved them. She'd learned that around the same time she'd given up hoping her own fairy tale would come true. Pressure built in her throat, but she wasn't sure whether it was from more tears or from an irrational urge to laugh. Magic? Fairy tales? What was wrong with her tonight? Maybe the strain of trying to keep the hotel afloat was finally catching up to her. She never indulged in whimsy. She was sensible, responsible Charlotte, always doing the right thing and obeying every rule. She strove to be a good daughter and granddaughter, sister and aunt, putting others first, whatever the cost. Fine, that was all well and good, but when was it going to beherturn? "Just this once," she whispered. "Would a little magic be too much to ask?" As if in reply, the hush of her office was shattered by the shriek of the fire alarm. Charlotte's hand jerked, knocking the mask to the floor. No. Please. Let this be a glitch in the wiring system or a prank by a tipsy guest. She grabbed her cell phone and dialed the number for security. "Mac!" She jammed the phone to her ear, trying to hear over the noise of the alarm. "What's going on?" Mac Jensen was in his last week as head of the hotel's security. He'd agreed to stay on until the end of Mardi Gras, but Charlotte knew he was eager to return to his own security business. "A smoke detector in the maintenance area was triggered," he replied. His voice was uneven--he sounded as if he were runnWeaver, Ingrid is the author of 'Unmasked', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373389452 and ISBN 0373389450.
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