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“What do you like to drink?”
“I’m usually a wine girl. But do you have a specialty here I have to try?”
Dominika bobbed her head. “Czechs love beer. But I am with you, I often prefer wine. Beer is so heavy, no? You could always try the absinthe.”
My brows went up. “The hallucinogenic green fairy?”
Dominika laughed. “Maybe another night.” She turned toward the bartender.
“Lukas, two Becherovka.”
The bartender nodded and pulled a green bottle from the shelf and filled two glasses with ice and an aromatic liquor. He garnished each with a lemon and slid them over.
Dominika picked hers up. “Na zdraví.”
“And this is?”
“Becherovka. It’s herbal liquor. Cures anything.”
I half laughed and sipped. It was an explosion of herbal flavors indeed. A mix of cinnamon and anise and maybe ginger.
“There are twenty herbs in all. Don’t try to figure it all out,” Dominika said with a grin.
“For what it’s worth, I think your parents would be really proud of how you’re all handling this. Maybe. That’s just the alcoholic herbs talking.”
Dominika laughed lightly. “Mama and Papa, they poured their souls into this place. So it’s hard not to think of them every step of this process. To the guests, they were gracious hosts, but to us, they were the weavers of magic. They were serious about the business, of course, but they could also turn a simple afternoon tea into a grand adventure. We obviously miss them very much.”
“How did they—Sorry that’s not what you want to talk about.”
“It’s ok. It’s been a long time. Boating accident. Just one of those things.” She fiddled with her drink straw. "You know, there's this one story about my parents that perfectly captures their spirit. It was during one of our famous afternoon teas. The hotel was buzzing with guests, and everything had to be just so. Mama was in her element, floating through the room like a bee. But then, Papa decided to add a little... excitement to the event. He'd found this old, antique gramophone and thought it would be a great idea to play some music. Only, he wasn't exactly skilled at operating it."
I leaned in, already charmed by the setup. "What happened?"
"Well, instead of the soft, classical music Mama had planned, Papa accidentally played this lively jazz record. And not just at a normal volume or speed. We're talking full blast, echoing through the entire hotel!" Dominika chuckled at the memory. "You should have seen the look on Mama's face. It was a mix of horror and disbelief."
“What did they do?" I asked, unable to suppress my own laughter.
“They improvised. Papa started dancing right there in the middle of the room. And you know what? Instead of a disaster, it turned into one of our best afternoons. Guests jumped in, dancing, laughing. Mama, despite her initial shock, couldn't help but laugh and join the dance."
Her smile lingered as if she could still hear the echoes of that music and laughter. "That's what they were like. Full of surprises, full of life. They taught us to find joy in the unexpected and to turn even the smallest moments into something beautiful.”
I felt the prick of tears at the back of my eyes and I listened to the way she painted the scene in vivid color—the guests twirling in spontaneous delight, her parents in the center, the heart and soul of not just the hotel, but of a family legacy built on laughter, love, and the ability to turn even the most ordinary moments into extraordinary memories.
“Thanks for this,” I said, raising my glass. “Even if you are trying to butter me up, I appreciate the inside look.”
She flashed me a look and then pressed a hand to her heart. “Do I look the type to butter someone up?”
I smirked. “I think so. But I happen to like butter when I’m not watching my calories. Which is never. So do with that what you will.”
She looked at me curiously for a moment then laughed.
“Don’t let Ondrej get to you. He is a very passionate man, and he is exceptionally passionate about keeping this place. He won’t see you as a person but rather as the thing that stands in the way of what he wants. But deep down—he’s my favorite person.”
I nodded and sipped my drink, letting her words sink in.
ChapterSeven
Sunlight spilled through the large windows of the hotel office, painting the snow-covered Prague landscape in a light so pure it felt unreal. My projectors hummed as my presentation lit up the room.
