Chapter 8
The staff meeting starts in ten minutes and I'm standing in the employee parking lot having a minor panic attack. My morning had not gone as intended. I was too nervous to eat breakfast, I left my water bottle on the kitchen table, and as I drove up the mountain to work, my gas light came on. Butterflies flutter around in my stomach, I don’t know what to expect seeing Justin at work today.
I’d taken a rideshare to the shop to pick the car up before work, and it had taken longer than I’d expected, putting me behind schedule.
Not only had Justin paid for a new tire, but he’d also replaced all my tires and had the shop catch up on the maintenance work needed.
The receipt the secretary handed me about made me fall over. Grateful was an understatement.
After parking, I sat in my car for a second taking breathes in and out. Smell the flowers. Blow out the candles. Smell the flowers. Blow out the candles. Okay, I can do this. I can return to work like absolutely nothing happened this weekend.
The park is buzzing with activity, guests already streaming through the gates even though it's barely past opening. Everything looks normal.
Except nothing is normal. Not anymore.
I touch the diamond on my necklace. The snowflake catches the light, reminds me of promises made in firelight. Of hands in my hair and voices saying you're mine and I've got you.
My phone buzzes.
Justin: You're in the parking lot.
Me: How do you know that?
Justin: Security cameras. And you're late. Are you okay?
Me: Stalker. I’m fine. Hectic morning. Thanks for the new tires.
Justin: Concerned boss. You’re welcome. Did you eat breakfast?
Me: Not yet. I will grab a bite soon.
Justin: Why didn’t you eat?
Me: I was running late.
Justin: Get inside before you are even more late.
Me: So bossy.
Justin: You like it. Now move.
I take one more deep breath, square my shoulders, and head toward the administrative building.
This is fine. Everything is fine. We're professionals. We can do this.
The conference room is already full when I slip in.
I grab a seat near the back, trying not to look at the head of the table where Justin sits, perfectly pressed suit, reading glasses perched on his nose as he reviews notes.
Damn, he’s sexy. I feel like a naughty school girl with a crush on her principal. The thought makes me grin.
He doesn't look up. Doesn't acknowledge me. Just continues his conversation with Mrs. Jensen about winter maintenance schedules.
His lack of attention shouldn't sting. This is what we agreed on. Professional at work.
But it still feels wrong, sitting here pretending we're strangers when last night I was in his arms learning what it feels like to be completely seen by him… and his tongue.
"All right, let's get started," Justin says, and the room settles. His voice is crisp, authoritative, the same voice that ordered me to spread my legs, the same voice that called me his good girl.
I shift in my seat, cheeks heating.
Focus, Holly.
He runs through the schedule for the day, talking about storm damage assessment, upcoming holiday events, staffing changes.
I take notes, contribute when appropriate, and absolutely do not stare at his hands and remember what they feel like on my skin.
I definitely don’t notice how big they are and wonder what it would be like to be spanked by them.
When he takes a drink of coffee and his tongue flicks out to lick a drop off the top of his lip, I definitely do not think about how delicious his lips feel pressed against mine.
"One more thing," Justin says as the meeting winds down.
"HR will be scheduling individual check-ins with all staff over the next week. Standard protocol after the storm closure. If you were affected in any way—property damage, missed shifts, anything—make sure you attend. We take care of our own here and I want to make sure everyone is comped for missing time, especially during the holidays.”
His eyes don't land on me. Not even for a second.
"That's all. Back to work."
Everyone files out. I gather my things slowly, waiting until the room is mostly empty before standing.
"Miss White."
I freeze. Turn around.
Justin's still at the head of the table, papers in front of him, expression perfectly neutral. "A moment, please."
The last few stragglers leave. The door clicks shut.
We're alone.
"Lock it," he says quietly.
I do, heart hammering.
When I turn back, he's standing, moving around the table toward me. His expression hasn't changed at all. He’s still professional, still controlled, but there's heat in his eyes.
"Hi," I whisper.
"Hi." He stops in front of me, close enough that I can smell his cologne. "You did well. Staying professional."
"It was hard."
"I know." His hand comes up, cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek. "But necessary."
"I know."
He leans down and kisses me. It’s quick and sweet and not nearly enough. When he pulls back, I'm breathless.
"Your HR meeting is Thursday at two," he says. "I've already scheduled mine for one-thirty. We'll disclose the relationship, make it official."
"What if they say we can't—"
"Then I'll deal with it." His voice is firm. "But they won't. We're being transparent, following protocol. There's no policy against consensual relationships between staff members."
"Even boss and employee?"
"Even boss and employee. As long as it's disclosed and managed appropriately." He steps back, creating professional distance again. "Which it will be."
"Okay."
"How are you feeling? Really?"
The question catches me off guard. We're in a conference room, technically still at work, but his concern is genuine.
"Overwhelmed," I admit. "But good. I talked to the girls this morning as I got ready for work.”
His mouth curves slightly. "How did that go?"
"Madison asked approximately thirty inappropriate questions. Chloe analyzed our dynamic. Lily demanded to meet you. The usual."
"And what did you tell them?"
"That you're... real. That this is real."
Something softens in his expression. "It is."
"I know." I touch the necklace. "I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"It won't."
"You can't promise that."
"I can promise that I'm not going anywhere. That's enough." He glances at his watch. "You should go. You're working the Santa House today."
"How do you know my schedule?"
"I make the schedules, Holly."
Right. Of course he does. I could literally facepalm myself right here but I refrain my hand at my side.
I move toward the door, then pause. "Justin?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For making this easier."
"I'm not making it easier. I'm making it right." He returns to his papers, every inch the professional again. "Now go. Before someone notices we're alone."
I unlock the door and slip out, my heart still racing.
The Santa House is chaos.
Kids everywhere, parents stressed, the line wrapping around the building. I'm in full elf costume again. I love taking on this role. The bells on my feet are jingling, my smile is plastered on and I’m trying to help manage the flow of screaming children and frazzled mothers.
"Next family, please!" I call out cheerfully.
A little girl bounces up, maybe four years old, wearing a tutu over her winter coat. "Are you a real elf?"
"The realest," I promise, crouching down to her level. "What's your name?"
"Emma."
My heart squeezes. Justin's sister’s name is Emma. I wonder if I’ll ever meet her. She would have been about the same age as Emma when she’d decided to give the reindeer a makeover. "That's a beautiful name."
"I want to tell Santa I want a puppy, but my mommy says we have to talk about 'sponsibility first."
"Responsibility is important," I agree, guiding her toward Santa's chair. "But you know what? Santa loves it when kids show they can be responsible. Maybe you can tell him all the ways you'd take care of a puppy."
Her face lights up. "Really?"
"Really."
I help her onto Santa's lap and step back, watching her earnest explanation of her puppy care plan. Santa, aka Jim, a retired school teacher with a natural full white beard and years of Santa experience, listens with perfect seriousness.
"Holly!"
I turn to find my manager, Mrs. Jensen waving me over. "Can you cover the ornament station while Janet takes her lunch? Sarah called in sick."
"Of course."
I head over to the workshop area, trading my elf costume for a craft apron.
The station is already busy with families decorating wooden ornaments, glitter everywhere, the smell of paint and sugar cookies in the air.
I look over and see my reindeer and Justin’s star still hanging on the corner tree and smile.
There are pieces of us all over the park now. Some physical, some memory, but all us.
This is what I love. The magic. The joy. Making people happy.
But now there's something else, too. A weightlessness in my chest that has nothing to do with Christmas spirit and everything to do with a man who sees past my sparkle to the person underneath.
My phone buzzes.
Monica: Lunch? I'm in town.
Me: Can't. Covering ornament station.
Monica: I'll bring food to you. 20 minutes.
Me: You're the best.
Monica: I know. Also I need details about your new relationship.
Me: Of course you do.
Monica: No such thing as a free lunch, am I right?
Twenty minutes later, Monica appears with sandwiches from one of my favorite local delis, a jar of apple cider from her and an expression I know too well, determined nosiness.
"Spill," she says, setting down lunch. "And don't say there's nothing to spill because I can see it on your face."
"See what?"
"The glow. The little smile you get when you check your phone. The necklace you keep touching." She points at my chest. "That's new."
I glance around, make sure no one's listening, then show her properly. "He gave it to me. Before we left the lodge."
Monica’s eyes widen. "Holly. That’s a diamond. This is serious."
"I know."