1. 2
I hurried down the street. It was still early, and the boutiques and restaurants weren’t open yet. Even in summer, the businesses in Windward did a brisk trade. My aunt’s gift shop, The Nook, was one street over. She sold everything from locally-made candles and soaps, to artwork and jewelry made by local artisans.
I turned a corner, and my resort came into view. A little zing filled my chest like it did every time I set eyes on the place.
There was lots of natural stone, accented by dark wood and glass. The gabled roof continued along the long line of the building. I loved every inch of wood and stone. The resort logo—a stylized W made to look like snow-capped mountains—was engraved in brass by the large front doors. It always filled me with pride. The logo was also on the shiny Hotel Manager badge pinned to my shirt. I headed up the drive and jogged up the front steps.
“Good morning, Ms. Ashford.” A young valet smiled at me.
“Morning, Will.”
He held the door open for me, and I stepped inside.
The resort had a welcoming feel, but the view was the big winner here. The ceiling soared overhead, showing off wooden beams, but the gaze was immediately drawn straight to the huge, triangular bank of windows. Outside, the mountain was lush green.
Comfortable armchairs were grouped by the window, where guests could linger for a minute, or comfortably check in. My heels clicked on the wooden floor. We had a long reception desk covered in more stone, and fresh flowers in vases topped multiple surfaces. I stopped to rearrange some of them.
“Morning, Tessa.” One of the receptionists called out.
“Hi, Archie. Everything running smoothly?”
His head bobbed. “It was a quiet night, but we have a flurry of checkouts coming up. We had one man with chest pains. Dr. Ramirez came in to look at him. Apparently, it was indigestion.”
That beat out the other alternatives. I hated those rare occasions when we had to deal with a dead body. “Thanks.”
“Idiot shouldn’t have ordered the steak and baked potato for dinner.” Coral leaned on the receptionist desk.
The older woman had worked at the Windward since the dawn of time, was in a perennial bad mood, and had her own thoughts on how the hotel should be run. Her gray hair was in a ruthless bob around her wrinkled face.
“Morning, Coral.”
She sniffed, then turned back to the computers.
“Here you go.” Archie handed me one of the staff radios.
“Thanks.” I clipped it to my belt, then cocked my head. “What’s wrong with your tie?” It was askew.
He looked down. “Oh, no. The stitching is coming undone. I’ll have to fix it.” He tried to tuck the fraying edge of the tie out of view.
I strode over. “Don’t worry.” I unzipped the tiny leather pouch on my belt. It always rested on my hip—my emergency kit. I pulled out a safety pin and handed it to him. “Use this. That will do the trick for today.”
The young man smiled. “Thanks, Tessa.”
As Archie fixed his tie, I sipped my coffee and took in the stylish banners advertising the Mountain Masquerade. They showed a leaf-covered mask on rich navy blue, with the Windward Resort logo beside it.
Turning, I spotted another banner that had been set up by the reception desk. The Windward Mountain Resort is proud to be joining the Langston Hotels family. The fancy gold Langston Hotels logo sat proudly under the words.
“No, we’re not,” I muttered under my breath.
Then I spotted Everett, our head of maintenance, by the elevators, a toolbox at his feet. He had a panel in the wall open, and was wearing his usual uniform—jeans and a blue flannel shirt.
I hustled over. “Everett, please don’t tell me the elevator is out of order again. The masquerade is tomorrow.”
He turned and smiled. It was a slow, sexy smile that had driven the girls at our high school crazy. He’d been one year ahead of me. I’d had a crush on him back then, which had thankfully mellowed into solid friendship. Still, I had a pulse, and could appreciate the way he filled out his jeans. Despite the laid-back appearance, he had an engineering degree, and was totally overqualified. Still, he ran maintenance here in a way that made things less of a headache for me.
“No, I’m just tinkering, Tessa. Don’t stress.”
“Me, stress?”
His grin widened. “Stress is your middle name.”
“I’m organized , Everett, there’s a difference.”
He snorted.
I tapped my pass card to the reader on the door and headed down the corridor to the staff offices. The floor gleamed, the wood recently polished.
Two women came around the corner. One was petite, toned, and blonde, and the other tall and slim, with short, black hair. Well, mostly black hair. It had a few purple highlights in it.
The blonde was gesticulating madly with her hands and the brunette was yawning.
“Hey, you two.”
They both looked up. My two best friends. Sierra Kerr was the blonde, and she was bubbly and never ran out of energy. We called her Energizer. A California transplant, she was the Outdoor Events Coordinator, and ran all the outdoor activities for the resort. And while I was a respectable five foot six, standing next to Sierra, who barely scraped in at five feet, made me feel like a giant.
“Morning, Tessa.” Sierra tapped her clipboard. “Do you want to try out a new biking trail with me tomorrow morning?”
“Um…” Biking wasn’t really my thing. I skied in the winter, did the occasional hike in summer, but other than that, I did the odd yoga class and counted that as regular exercise.
“Ask her what time,” Allie Ford said.
Allie and I had gone to school together. All I’d ever wanted was to manage the Windward Resort. All Allie had wanted to do was escape our small town. She’d dreamed of working at a classy advertising company in New York, having a fancy apartment, and traveling the world.
My heart squeezed. She had moved to New York for several years, but when her brother and sister-in-law had been killed, she’d moved back and taken custody of her five-year-old nephew. Obviously, the similarity of the situation to my own had hit me hard. I’d vowed to help her anyway I could.
She’d asked me for a job and all I had was the housekeeping supervisor position. She was woefully overqualified but one of my hardest workers. I admired how much Allie loved her nephew, even though the loud, fun-loving Allie had given way to hard-working, always-tired, and slightly grim Allie.
I pinned Sierra with a look. “What time?”
“Five AM. It’s beautiful and peaceful then, and we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
I winced. “Um, I can’t at five AM.”
Sierra propped a hand on her hip. “You have plans?”
“Yes, I’ll be sleeping.”
Allie snorted, then looked at my arm. “Did you and Simba go a round before you came in?”
“Yes. That monster escaped and parked his fat butt in a tree. Haley begged me to rescue the poor, little thing.”
Sierra shuddered. “That cat scares me.”
“You can’t show any fear. He can smell it.”
“Don’t you have a Band-Aid in your magic pouch?” Allie asked.
“In fact, I do.” I unzipped my kit again and pulled out a Band-Aid.
“Let me.” Allie ripped it open and pressed it over the scratch. “Let’s do a cocktail night soon.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I need a margarita or seven.”
“Alcohol is bad for your health,” Sierra said. “Biking is healthy. It will give you natural endorphins.”
“You always say that, but after I exercise with you, all I feel is hot and sweaty,” Allie said. “I’ll add some fruit to my cocktail. And voila, healthy.”
Sierra huffed out a breath, but she was smiling. The woman loved a margarita.
“Cocktails sound great.” It had been way too long since we’d caught up. “After the masquerade.” I pulled a face. “And after I deal with any new consultants Langston Hotels sends up to do more preliminary assessments on the resort.”
Sierra bit her lip. “Any word on his plans for the hotel?”
“Nothing to report yet.”
“What about layoffs?” Allie asked, her mouth tight.
I grabbed her arm. “I will do everything in my power to ensure no one loses their jobs. Everyone is vital to the smooth running of this hotel.” I knew people were worried about their jobs. I understood. I had a solid contract for another three years, but I still worried about helping Emily with her mortgage and helping to pay Josh’s college tuition.
Allie nodded stiffly, but I could see she was nervous.
“For now, we focus on the masquerade. And upcoming cocktails.”
“I’ll ask Mrs. Jenkins to watch Ollie,” Allie said.
I knew her older neighbor often babysat for her. “I need to run and email reports to Tyrant Langston before he chases me for them again.” I bet Langston and Simba would get on. I squeezed Allie’s arm. “Cocktails. Soon. The man will no doubt drive me to drink.”
Hustling down the hall, I opened my office. My right-hand woman sat at her very messy desk. Mine—as neat as a pin—was on the other side of the room. The window gave us a view of the mountain. Okay, not quite. We got a sliver of mountain, and a whole lot of the hotel building.
Views were reserved for the guestrooms.
“Morning, Jazmin.” I dumped my bag on the desk.
My assistant’s dark gaze narrowed on my coffee. “You went to Mountain Brew and didn’t get me a coffee?”
“I didn’t think you’d be here. I figured your hunky husband would be making you breakfast and coffee.”
Jazz had married the love of her life. Hector owned the ski rental store in town, and a few others around Colorado and Utah.
“He had to go to Aspen for work.” A small smile flirted on her lips and she fluffed her glorious, tight, black curls. “He’ll be home tonight.”
I sat in my desk chair. “Don’t make me throw my coffee at you. Quit taunting me with your loved-up gooeyness.”
Jazz tilted her head. With her dark skin, curly hair, and curvy body, she took great pride in both her African-American and Latina heritage. Her dad was Black and her mom was Dominican. “You could meet a guy.”
I swiveled my chair, and it squeaked. “I hear an if coming.”
My assistant held up a hand. Her pride-and-joy manicured nails gleamed. She had a gorgeous set of French tips, and I had a serious case of envy, mostly because I had no time to get my nails done, and I’d break them if I did.
“If you actually dated, you’d have a greater chance of meeting a man,” Jazmin said.
“Jazz, you know I don’t have time, plus there’s a pretty limited pool around here.” It was one of the few downsides to small-town living.
“You could make the time, especially if you relaxed?—”
“I don’t have time to relax.”
She shook her head. “If you relaxed your impossible standards.”
“My standards are not impossible. I want a good guy, with decent employment, who respects me, oh, and loves me.” I couldn’t seem to find that combination, plus I had no time to try.
Jazz sighed.
“Besides, I’m too busy since Langston Hotels bought us. I am too worried that Langston will fly in and wreck everything good about the Windward Resort.”
Jazz’s face turned serious. “I heard he purchased a beachside hotel in Jamaica recently.”
“And?”
“They leveled it.”
I rubbed the pain that flared under my ribs. That was my worst nightmare.
“It was run-down,” Jazz rushed to reassure me. “The Windward Mountain Resort is not.”
“I will do everything to convince him of that.” My tone was vehement. “I don’t want him to change a thing.” Or let any of my people go.
“Honey.” Sympathy filled my assistant’s face. She reached out and gripped my arm. “There will be changes; we can’t help that. But they won’t all be bad.”
I didn’t like change.
Change was waking up and discovering that your parents had died on an icy drive back from Denver. Change was the thing that upended your life and left you feeling adrift.
No, I wouldn’t let Ambrose Langston ruin my hotel, or hurt any of my people.
I’d just have to show him how great it was, just as it stood right now.