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His eyes softened with sympathy. “That sounds very painful.”
I nodded. “It was. I know it’s not the same as losing them. But In know it’s never easy to break up your life, your past. I think sometimes that’s just the unfortunate reality of life.”
Ondrej turned to look at me, his eyes meeting mine in a moment of silent acknowledgment. In that shared gaze, there was a flicker of hope, a possibility that maybe, just maybe, we could find a middle ground.
I started to speak, then paused, ensuring my words aligned with my sincerity. My job demanded the pursuit of this acquisition, yet I wasn't here to bulldoze his heritage into oblivion. My own life, strewn with the fragments of my parents' messy divorce, had taught me the importance of preserving stories while forging new paths.
“When this project first came to my desk, I was instantly intrigued by the Novák Hotel. It's not just the architecture or the location, but the stories it holds, the history embedded in its walls. There's a soul to this place that's rare."
Ondrej's expression softened slightly with a hint of curiosity.
"But, from a professional standpoint," I continued, shifting gears, "the hotel, as it stands, faces challenges. The market is evolving, and guests' expectations are changing. The key is to find a way to modernize without losing the essence of what makes this place special."
He leaned back against the railing, arms crossed, listening.
"For instance," I said, my thoughts warming up. “There's the old grand hotel in Budapest my company acquired. It’s at least a century old, like the Novák. A few years ago, they were struggling, much like you are now. But after a thoughtful renovation, we managed to preserve its historical charm while adding modern amenities. Now, they're thriving, attracting guests who appreciate both the old-world charm and contemporary comfort. And the owner even stayed on for two years to see the project through.”
Ondrej seemed to ponder this, his gaze drifting over the snowy cityscape. “It sounds good on paper. But you can’t guarantee the hotel won’t lose its identity in the process.”
“Well, that's the challenge," I admitted. "But it's not an impossible one. It’s about balance, respecting the past while embracing the future. It's a delicate dance, but when done right, it can breathe new life into a place like this. There are always risks. But sometimes, the biggest risks lead to the greatest rewards."
Our conversation lingered in the air. There was no easy answer, no clear path forward. But for the first time, it felt like there was a glimmer of mutual understanding between us, a bridge being built over the chasm of our differing perspectives.
Ondrej smiled thinly at me, and for a moment, our eyes locked. Despite the cold, a tendril of warmth moved through me. And as though to disrupt the moment, the sky chose that moment to unleash snow.
I laughed nervously. “I guess that’s our cue to head back inside then.”
“Maybe the weather is trying to tell us something,” he said with a thin smile.
He reached for the door and then paused. He turned back around.
“Have you ever been to a Christmas market?”
I half laughed. “Um, yes. At, like, the trade hall?”
He guffawed and shook his head. “No. A real one.”
“Can’t say that I have.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Something tells me I’m going to a Christmas market.”
ChapterTwelve
Prague’s Old Town and the adjacent Wenceslas Square had been transformed overnight into a magical Christmas wonderland plucked from another time and place.
It was a snow globe come to life, a world where twinkling fairy lights wove through the night like golden threads. The famous wooden stalls were decked out in their festive best, humming with laughter and cheer. Carolers crooned in the distance, their melodies weaving through the crisp winter air, while the rich aroma of spiced wine and roasting chestnuts filled my senses. It was the sort of setting where worries sloughed off like overcoats, leaving behind a lightness that Ondrej and I both seemed to need.
“This is incredible. I can’t think of any other way to say it,” I said, looking around with childlike wonderment. “It’s like it happened overnight.”
“Even I have to agree with you. It was voted the best Christmas Market in Europe,” Ondrej said.
“I can see why. I would have described this city as magical even without this—but hard to argue now.”
In the center, a majestic tree held court, adorned with a dazzling array of unlit lights and ornaments.
“They cut that down right in our own forests,” Ondrej said, nodding toward the tree.
