Chapter 10
TEN
COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO
GEORGIA
My Holiday Wish List
1. Yesterday was all a dream.
2. Dante is not a guest here, and my family is not expecting to meet my nonexistent fiancé.
3. I am still on track to have the best Christmas ever.
Ifold the list into a tiny square and slip it into Santa’s three-foot tall mailbag.
Then, like I’m the starring actress in a Hallmark movie, I twirl around as the lobby’s speakers play “All I Want for Christmas is You.” If I’m following the typical script, I just need to wait for the clocks to rewind to yesterday so I can make better decisions and keep my mouth shut about “Dante.”
“What the hell are you doing, Georgia?” Taryn bumps into me mid-spin. “I’ve been looking for you all morning.
“So my wish list didn’t work?”
She shoots me a confused stare.
“I’ll take that as a no…”
“Anyway,” she says, “since I’ve so generously volunteered to help out at the estate this holiday season, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I wasn’t able to secure the top suite for you and your fiancé, and that’s not all.”
Okay, it’s time to come clean.
“Look, Taryn,” I say. “I need to tell you something.”
“Me too.” She places her hands on my shoulders. “You’re fucking screwed.”
“So, you already know the truth?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “I just found out why you’re about to have a serious skeleton crew on hand…Taylor Swift just announced a surprise holiday festival here and I’m pretty sure you’re about to experience some ‘suddenly sick’ employees.”
“Taylor Swift is coming here?” I smile. “Really? I mean, they wouldn’t do that to me during the business time of the year, right?”
She blinks.
Rushing over to the employee check-in screen, I notice that six people have called in today.
What the hell?
Convinced this is an error or a last-minute holiday prank, I call the first employee on the list. Sarah Folsom.
“Hello?” she answers on the first ring.
“Hey Sarah, it’s Georgia from The Grace Estate.”
“Hey there, Georgia!”
“I noticed that you called in sick for today, with an indefinite return date. Am I reading this right?”
“No, um…” She coughs. “Something serious is coming to town. I mean, ‘going around,’ and I don’t want to miss it, you know?”
“You mean, catch it?” I cross my arms. “If you’re supposedly sick, don’t you already have whatever it is?”
“Um…” She coughs a few times before ending the call.
I call her right back, and it goes straight to voicemail.
“I’ll call everyone who is still scheduled and get back to you.” Taryn takes the phone from me. “Go get some fresh air.”
“Fine.” I head to the courtyard and pace between nutcrackers, mentally calculating how small of a staff I can use to run this estate.
“Georgia Bee?” My grandmother’s voice makes me stop.
“Yes?”
“Happy Seven Star Day!” She approaches me and hands me an emerald green gift box. “You can open this one before Christmas.”
In need of good news, I tug at the ribbon and push off the top. Inside is a huge diamond key with my name etched onto its handle.
“The Grace Estate would still be a regular resort if it weren’t for you,” she says, “and as soon as I meet your fiancé this Christmas and you show me that you can handle running this busy holiday on your own, this resort is yours.”
“Seriously? That soon?”
“It would’ve been a lot sooner, but I wanted you to have a life outside of work, so you won’t make the same mistakes I did.”
“I thought you wanted me to be more like Savannah…”
“Where would you ever get an idea like that?”
“Because she has everything together and she’s super professional.”
“One ‘Savannah’ is more than enough. Trust me.” She hugs me hard. “When exactly is Dante coming in?”
“Um, well, he actually—You see, the thing about him is, it’s complicated.” I stutter.
Now is the perfect time to admit the truth, to come clean about all the random gifts and fake voicemails.
“I’m having an interior designer put some finishing touches on your official manager’s suite so your fiancé can see it while he’s here,” Grandma Hattie says. “Did you already say what day he’s arriving?”
“Yeah, I said he’ll be here on Thursday.”
Later that night, I lock myself in a suite and set up a table with Mission: Find a Fake Fiancé. I have ninety-six hours to find a guy who can save my life, and I refuse to throw in the towel until the very last second.
I brew coffee and open Craigslist, Home for the Holidays, and Rent-a-mate in separate tabs.
The other sites are far less promising, and I’m convinced that OnlyFans is borderline prostitution.
Not wanting to give up, I log into my social media accounts, checking on all my male friends one by one.
Engaged. Married. Single and looking for anyone down to screw on Christmas. Ugh…
By midnight, I’m close to throwing in the towel and deflating my estate dreams earlier than planned.
As I’m making another pot of coffee, the housekeeping manager texts me “Call me! It’s an emergency!”
I forward it to someone else, someone who isn’t watching her life go up in flames with every passing second.
I’m not sure how long I flip between tabs and scroll through pages, but when I look up from my laptop, the sun is peaking over the clouds and reality is setting in.
“Telling the truth won’t be the end of the world,” I say to myself. “Grandma just won’t trust me t be manager because I’ll still be single…and a liar.”
I lean back in my chair, exhaling.
My work cell rings—signaling the start of a new day with VIP guest requests, and I accept that the jig is up. Game over.
“Thank you for calling your Special Guest Services Manager,” I answer. “I’m Georgia Grey, and I’m looking forward to fulfilling your every request.”
“Good morning, Miss Grey,” a deep voice says. “This is Ryan Painter, a customer specialist with The Office Guest.”
“Okay, seriously? I didn’t have anything to do with that dumpster that caught fire at your headquarters last year. That was totally a coincidence that happened on the same day y’all banned my account.”
“That’s not why I’m calling you, Miss Grey.”
“Oh. Well, what’s going on?”
“I couldn’t help but notice that you have yet to rejoin our app since your suspension was lifted.”
“What?” I sit upright. I’d completely forgotten about The Office Guest.
“I’m sending you a special ten percent code in hopes that you’ll find use for it within the next thirty days, but I do want to warn you that we’ve changed quite a few things since you were last one of our customers.”
“Yeah?” I place him on speaker and re-download the app as he speaks. “Things like what?”
“We just eliminated almost everything you used to abuse our app for.” His voice is deadpan. “And, although you can see what our guests look like, we had to eliminate the men seeing you until it’s time to meet in person due to some abuses by other clients.”
When I enter my old password, I’m not met with an ugly red screen anymore. Instead, the wonderful world I’ve missed so much is suddenly mine again. Gorgeous men in suits, availability, accents, and “skills.”
Maybe I won’t get caught after all…
As he continues droning on about their new terms and conditions, I type in my requirements, the date range and my preferences, and then I set a price that will hopefully get the right guy’s attention.
Eight thousand dollars.
“I hope you enjoy the new look and feel of The Office Guest.” The representative’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “I wish you great success with it this holiday season.”
“Thank you very much!”
“One last thing, Miss Grey,” he says. “I have a question.”
“Ask me anything.”
“It’s about last year’s dumpster that caught fire.” He pauses. “We never sent any memos or notes about that to the public or the press. How did you know about it?”
“Um…Merry Christmas!” I hang up in his face.