Chapter Thirteen
T he highway was as clear as the cornflower-blue sky overhead as Celeste drove out of Keystone Ridge toward Banff on Thursday morning, but her mind was a jumble of conflicting thoughts.
It was eight in the morning, and she’d had to fake a doctor’s appointment to avoid any questions from her family. She didn’t want to deal with their input. She was tired of the same refrain: Of course the new owners will keep you on! and They’d be crazy to let you go. The interview would be a secret, and she’d deal with things later on if by some miracle she ended up getting a job offer.
She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. At least she appeared put together, with a generous layer of under-eye concealer, her favorite navy Theory suit with a silk sleeveless top underneath, and her grandmother’s diamond studs adding a noticeable but discreet touch of elegance. Just the way Celeste liked to operate.
She’d been instructed to park in the employee parking lot at the back of the hotel and report to the hotel’s office off to the side of the concierge desk to announce her presence.
The lobby was filled with the sweet scent of the giant fresh floral arrangement sitting in the middle of the high-ceilinged space. A young man in a black suit and close-cropped hair looked up from his concierge desk computer when she approached.
“I’m Celeste McCarthy,” she said. “Here to see Stephan Jolliet.”
“Welcome, Ms. McCarthy,” he said, smiling politely. “Please wait right here.” He indicated a leather banquette by the wall that sat underneath a Maud Lewis reproduction. Or, on closer inspection, was it an original? The lobby was immaculately clean, beautifully decorated, and exuded a sense of calm and order.
Celeste sat on the banquette, mindful of her posture, and took a deep breath in, as though she could drink up the serenity and let it unfurl the knots in her stomach. She observed the goings-on at the front desk, the views of the mountains from the windows on one side and the thick forested area spotted with cabins on the other.
A young couple was checking out, moving with the unhurried, relaxed nature of a successful holiday. Celeste noted how the front desk clerk greeted them promptly with a smile, inquired about their stay, and wished them safe travels home. It wasn’t rocket science. So why was she so nervous?
“Ms. McCarthy?” a woman’s voice said from beside her. Celeste turned to see the thin-lipped, stern face of Annie Flint, her silver hair pulled back so tight it was a miracle the follicles were holding on. She hadn’t known Annie was going to be the one conducting the interview. Wasn’t it frowned upon for someone to interview their replacement?
But of course she would. Someone with that strong of an iron grip wouldn’t be content to let just anyone fill her brushed-leather Prada loafers.
Celeste stood up, smiled politely, and extended her hand to shake Annie’s. Every movement, every word, every interaction from this moment on would be judged to see Celeste’s manners, her nature, her ability to exude grace under pressure.
“Grayson, please take Ms. McCarthy’s jacket.” Immediately the young man at the desk relieved her of her coat and disappeared into the back room. “Let’s start with a tour, then, shall we?” Annie said, gesturing toward the exit of the lobby. “Stephan will join us in the boardroom after you’ve had the chance to look around.”
“Thank you,” said Celeste, and she followed Annie, who strode across the hardwood floors with the precision of a metronome. “What a beautiful place,” she said. “The last time I was here, I was twelve. My mom took me for afternoon tea for my birthday. So it’s nice to see it again after all these years.”
Annie nodded briskly. “Many of our other candidates for the role are international and so won’t have the benefit of touring the space. But I think it’s important to see what you’d be signing on for. It’s not a small operation,” she said, dipping her chin as she turned to look at Celeste over her glasses.
Many other candidates? How many was many ?
Many didn’t sound promising.
“This is the guest lounge and bar,” Annie said, ushering Celeste into a large multileveled area, with plush velvet seating and a mahogany Bosendorfer grand piano in the middle of the space. She looked up and took in the sight of a stunning chandelier, with clusters of concentrated crystals that extended out in bursts, like a heap of constellations.
“Swarovski, modeled after the New York Metropolitan Opera House,” Annie said. “Our owner, Mr. Kantor, is a huge classical-music fan and visits New York, Chicago, or San Francisco one weekend each month. He thought the chandeliers were perfect for the hotel, given the popularity of our observatory.”
Celeste had researched the hotel’s observatory online, which had a retractable roof and was staffed by a full-time astronomer, making the hotel a magnet for stargazers. The Butterfly Lake Lodge’s stargazing room looked like amateur hour in comparison.
Each room was more impressive than the last, and when they finally arrived at the boardroom for the interview, Celeste felt a mixture of awe and nerves. How had she ever thought she would be qualified to manage an operation of this magnitude?
She entered the boardroom to find two people already sitting at the conference table—a man with white hair and a mustache who introduced himself as Stephan Jolliet and a younger woman with a black bob and thick blue-rimmed glasses.
“I’m Corrine Petersen,” she said, “head of HR for The Kantor Group. Water?”
Bless you , thought Celeste. Her throat was dry, and she needed something to do with her hands.
She settled in, and Stephan provided an overview of the role. Then it was her turn.
The first questions were a piece of cake:
Tell us about yourself.
What’s the number one most important component of hospitality?
Tell us about a difficult situation you encountered with a guest and how you resolved it.
How do you solicit feedback from your guests to assure continual improvement?
Ten minutes in, she started to relax. Annie had been quiet up until this point, but she noticed the woman began fidgeting in her seat the more Celeste aced the questions.
At a certain point, after Celeste had regaled the panel with a story about the time their towel provider had been late with the delivery and her car had been in the shop, her parents out of town, and she’d taken one of the inn’s bicycles forty minutes to the Nordic spa near Canmore and begged to borrow forty towels, balancing them in two large Ikea bags over the handlebars, she had Stephan and Corrine in stitches. But Annie Flint only sat up in her seat and put her elbows on the table, crossing her arms and looking out the window, appearing as disinterested as a house cat.
When she finally piped in, Celeste knew she was going for blood. “Tell us about your experience with PelSIS,” Annie said, tapping her pen on the table, then holding it in a poised position, as though she was about to take down a criminal testimony.
Celeste paused. “Well, I noticed on the posting that there was a preference to be well versed in the system. I actually don’t—”
“The most well-used hotel management software in the world, and you don’t have any experience?” Annie said, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m a fast learner,” she said, almost choking.
Annie noted something on the paper in front of her. “Tell us your thoughts about how digitization might impact frontline staff as well as customer experience and what you might do to mitigate any negative effects while also keeping in mind profit maximization.”
Celeste paused. Her eyes darted to Corrine and Stephan, neither of whom were making eye contact with her. She felt sick. “I, uh,” she said and took a shallow breath in. “I suppose I always think that the human touch far surpasses anything digital. But, um, I’d have to give that some more consideration.”
Finally an expression of satisfaction crept over Annie’s face, but Celeste suspected it had nothing to do with the quality of her response. “I see on your resume you have an undergraduate degree in…what is it? English literature?” Annie gave her a tight, condescending grin.
“Yes,” she squeaked out.
“Have you ever thought of doing your master’s? EHL in Switzerland really is the best in the world. I mean, I was there twenty years ago, but it’s a fabulous school. You might look into it.”
“I’ll look it up,” Celeste said. Was the interview over? It had all been going so well. Was Annie trying to sabotage her? To expose her as a fraud?
“Uh, I have a couple of more questions,” Stephan finally piped up.
“Sure,” Celeste said weakly. He asked her to detail how she kept her team motivated, and Corrine informed her of the next stages in the interview process, all while Annie sat back in her seat, her arms crossed, a look of smug satisfaction on her pinched face.
Annie stayed behind in the boardroom while Corrine and Stephan walked her to the front reception, shook her hand, and promised to be in touch.
Celeste waited until she was in the car before cursing out loud.
She hadn’t expected it to be a home run, but she also hadn’t anticipated being on the hot seat like that.
But most of all, she hadn’t expected to be so interested in the job. Initially it had felt like a life raft being thrown her way that she needed to grasp on to. But after touring the beautiful space and considering the new challenges and growth opportunities, she was interested in the role for far more than the mere prospect of continued employment.
Her mind was a mix of tangled wires, and she fought to keep her focus on the road.
Without thinking, instead of taking the exit toward the lodge, Celeste sped past, then took the next off ramp which led down the winding country road toward where Jack told her he lived, in the stretch of homes along the river’s bend. The one with the yellow mailbox at the road, he’d said. She didn’t allow herself to think too critically about her decision to go there; all she wanted was to see him.
His truck was parked out front when she pulled in, and for a moment she second-guessed her decision. How would he take her coming over unannounced?
She parked her Jeep anyway. She stood on the path, looking at his house, then almost leapt out of her skin as a voice came from behind her. “Celeste?”
She spun around and found Jack with an adorable dog trailing behind him with a tennis ball in his mouth. “Sorry to scare you. We’re just coming back from a walk. You’re back for another round on the river?” Her face must have still been laced with panic. “Wait, you okay?” he said.
Tears sprung into her eyes unexpectedly, and Jack’s expression softened. He put out his arms, and she melted into them, the warm feeling of his strong embrace quieting the nerves and doubt that laced through her. She breathed in the smell of his jacket, earthy mixed with the spice of aftershave, and steadied herself.
“You had your interview today, didn’t you?” he said, pulling back and studying her face. “Come on in. Tell me how it went.”
Jack made coffee while Celeste sat on his couch, petting Bodie, who kept his head in her lap, looking up at her with a tender, innocent gaze. “He likes you,” Jack said. He brought the mugs of coffee over and deposited one on the table.
“I guess this is why these guys are used as therapy pets,” she said.
“He’s attuned to how people are feeling, that’s for sure.” Jack sat in the spot next to her and rubbed the spot behind Bodie’s ears. “So. Talk to me.”
“Sorry to just barge in like this,” Celeste said. She took a sip of her coffee.
“It’s all right,” he said. “To be honest, I was wondering if I’d hear from you. After you missing class.”
Celeste shifted in her seat. “I know. It’s just—there’s been a lot going on.”
“Okay. You going to tell me about it?”
“I wasn’t sure about this interview. I mean, I didn’t really even want to apply in the first place. And I thought I was prepared. But then I got there and the place is stunning and I think I could do a really good job.”
“So, what’s the problem, then?”
“The problem is that I was made to look like a complete fool by Annie Flint. She’s the one vacating the job. And it was like she was out to get me the whole interview.”
“She probably realizes you’re going to do a better job. And she can’t handle it.”
“Well, I walked out of there feeling like a complete idiot.” She felt her voice waver and willed herself not to cry.
“So, call them back. Tell them you want another chance, without her there.”
Celeste shook her head. “I can’t do that. I just have to keep my eye out for another job.” She put her head back on the couch. “Ugh.”
“Can I make a suggestion?” His voice was gentle and reassuring.
“Sure.”
“Given that you still have your job, a job that you love, and you don’t know for sure that you won’t have that job for the time being…”
“I can’t live with that kind of uncertainty,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
He leaned in closer, his gaze intense yet comforting. “What’s the fun in that?” His words held a challenge, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes.
“It’s kind of my thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“My whole job is to anticipate what’s next. What time the honeymooners will be down for breakfast and whether they’ll want Bloody Marys or mimosas. If the temperature is going to drop early in the season and we need to make sure the firewood is well stocked. You know—customer service?”
Jack looked at her with a funny look. “Now that you say it, it makes sense. And you’re damn good at it. But does that mean you have to live your entire life that way? Not leaving anything to chance or having a little faith that things will work out as they should?”
“You make me sound so rigid.”
Jack set down his coffee cup and turned to fully face her. “That’s not what I meant.”
But Celeste knew he was right. She liked predictability, order. There was elegance in a well-executed plan, but Jack brought forth something wild inside her, longing to break free. She managed a tight grin.
“There’s nothing wrong with having a plan. That wasn’t what I meant. All I’m saying is that it seems to me like you don’t need to be panicking at this point. And”—he fixed her in his gaze—“I’m sure you knocked the interview out of the park.”
Celeste wasn’t feeling despondent anymore. With Jack’s soothing words, the steady, reassuring comfort of his solidness beside her, not only did she feel protected, but the wave of desire that washed over her erased any self-doubt and concern for anything too far in the future.
She was in the moment, so alive and present and turned on. Was it time to do something completely impulsive?
“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice barely a whisper but filled with anticipation. She put her hand over his on the couch, a silent invitation hanging in the air between them. He took the invitation and leaned over, his lips covering hers. She kissed him, feeling his hands gently pulling her onto his lap.
Celeste melted into Jack’s embrace, savoring the warmth of his body against hers, his hands wandering to the small of her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.
Their kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, hungry. When Jack started to trail kisses down her neck and along her collarbone, a soft moan escaped her lips. “I want you,” she whispered into his ear. He said nothing before scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to his room.