Chapter Sixteen
T he speedboat ride from Campbell River to Lagoon Island, up past Quadra Island and through the passage between the Discovery Islands, was about an hour long. Celeste had looked at a map the night before and it hadn’t seemed too far away from civilization, but the trip to the remote island, where she’d already spotted seals, sea lions, and osprey, felt like a journey to another planet.
The cool air and sprays of mist off the water kept her alert as they sped through the channels between islands. Stephan’s assistant had made her travel arrangements: She’d taken the early flight from Calgary to the Comox airport and would make it to Lagoon Island by noon.
For so much travel, it would be a quick visit. There would be a tour of the grounds, then a discussion about the contract over lunch in the newly completed restaurant.
She’d been up since three a.m., so Celeste was thankful that the noise of the boat’s motor coupled with the wind whipping by was so loud that she wasn’t forced to make conversation with the driver of the boat, a nice woman named Alexis who had been tasked with meeting her in Campbell River and shuttling her over. Celeste’s mind was spinning, and the scope of the journey she was taking was too overwhelming for small talk.
Celeste felt unsteady and untethered. She’d stood in the airport for twenty minutes, staring straight ahead and contemplating rescheduling to an early flight home and heading right back to Keystone Ridge. In the end, the fact that her stomach was growling and the only café in the Comox airport had a lineup twenty deep sealed the deal. Stephan had told her the chef was experimenting with different menu items so he’d be looking for her feedback on that as well.
The speedboat whipped across the waves, bumping forward, the scent of burning gasoline mixed with salty sea air. Celeste pulled her hood tighter around her face, trying to duck behind the boat’s windshield as much as possible while also keeping the island in view. Showing up looking as polished as possible was essential, given that Stephan had witnessed her less-than-professional stage performance.
As the boat approached the inlet where the docks jutted out from the rocky shore, the resort’s buildings started to come into view, mostly camouflaged by the surrounding forest. She’d read online about the mix of traditional timber cabins and luxury waterfront canvas tents that would be available seasonally, and they looked exactly like the artist’s rendering.
Stephan and another man were waiting on the long dock that jutted out from the rocks and waved as the boat’s engine cut and they started to drift slowly to land.
“Here we go,” Alexis said, steering the boat toward the slip Stephan was motioning her to. “Nice place here. Little remote for my liking, but that’s what folks are looking for these days, I guess.”
Celeste’s mind flashed back to the small town of Campbell River, which wasn’t much bigger than Keystone Ridge. It seemed like the woman considered it a big city compared to Lagoon Island.
“Thanks for the ride,” Celeste said. She stood up, doing her best to balance herself in the wavy harbor, and accepted Alexis’s hand as the woman helped to steady her.
“I’ll be back at three p.m. to pick you up,” she said.
“Can I text you if I end earlier?”
Alexis laughed. “Honey, you won’t be texting anyone from Lagoon Island. Not for the near future at least.”
She forced a laugh. “Of course,” she said. “See you at three.” No texting? Where in the hell was she?
Stephan and the other man approached, and he extended a hand to help her out of the boat. “Celeste, this is Levi Gallagher, our manager of consistency,” he said.
Manager of consistency? What kind of made-up title was that?
Levi extended his hand. “Very pleased to meet you,” he said. “We’re so excited to show you around the property. Shall we?”
“We shall!” Celeste said, hoping no one noticed the panicked trill in her voice. She was literally in the middle of nowhere, with no cell service, and the last time she remembered seeing any other evidence of humanity had been about thirty minutes into the boat ride.
She took a deep breath. She’d made the decision to come here. And it might just be her new home.
Celeste followed Stephan and Levi to shore, taking more deep breaths while trying to focus on what Levi was saying about the shuttle boat that would be up and running by the time the resort opened, a twelve-seater something-something-name-brand-vintage-feel that Celeste knew she needed to appear excited about.
“Let’s start with the cabins. I think you’re going to like them.”
Like was a word as understated as the Brunello Cucinelli sneakers Levi wore with his faded jeans and black blazer. An hour later, Celeste was dazzled. The resort was magical. Each of the cabins had a picture-perfect view of the water and were outfitted with the most stunning of features, all made from materials sourced from the natural landscape—cedar, sand, and slate.
The canvas tents had cast-iron stoves, heated floors, and spacious ensuite bathrooms that walked out to outdoor rain showers surrounded with rock walls, with enough of a built-out space to maintain privacy but overlook the water while showering.
The restaurant operated underneath a giant dome skylight, with a series of real trees growing throughout the dining area, making it feel as though you were sitting in the forest but in the comfort of a climate-controlled space. The trails around the property had strategically placed kiosks where guests could order fresh pressed juice or artisanal cocktails, and builders were putting the finishing touches on a spa area that featured a rock-lined glacial plunge.
It was heaven. It was refined. It was… remote .
“So,” Celeste said, “when do you think you’ll be getting service out here?”
“Oh,” said Stephan. “It’ll be a while before we can get a cell tower. You can hook up to Wi-Fi near the front desk, though. It’s not super fast yet, but it’ll be enough for operations. We’re marketing this as a place to unplug.”
Celeste tried not to make a face. She knew that while people might say they want to disconnect, in actuality they wanted to check in with their kids at home, post to their Instagram stories, and sneak a peek at the score of the game when their partner went to the washroom. She was about to say something but then closed her mouth. It wasn’t her place. She hadn’t even signed a contract yet.
Stephan checked his watch. “Shall we have some lunch?”
Lunch was served at the ocean-side restaurant, a snow-crab ceviche appetizer, saltwater lamb with zucchini and butternut squash for the main, and a black-currant soufflé with creme anglaise to round out the meal. It was swoon-worthy. If this was what the bare-bones kitchen could pull together, Celeste was dying to see what they would be putting out once they were fully staffed.
After the waiter delivered their espressos, Levi slid a thick book and a paper envelope from his satchel. He passed the book across the table first. “This is the consistency manual,” Levi said as Celeste flipped through the pages. “Sort of a style guide. To ensure that a guest who experiences a Kantor Group property will be guaranteed the same experience whether they are in Tanzania, Tuscany, Tulum, and beyond.”
Celeste flipped through the pages. The level of detail was astounding. Under the heading Guest Requests Additional Pillow there were seven steps an employee was expected to follow, starting with Nod once and smile pleasantly and ending with Wish the guest a pleasant and rejuvenating sleep . She almost laughed out loud when she saw that there was a section for how to ensure a guest’s pet had a five-star stay.
When she looked up at Stephan and Levi, it was very clear that the policy guide was no joke. “So, this is the manual you will be using to train our staff,” Levi said. “We’re going through our second round of interviews now and hoping to bring the group in for training by the end of the month. That should be enough time for you to study the guide and be ready to take the others through the procedures.”
“In three weeks?” Celeste said. Her mind whirled. Would that give her parents enough time to find someone to replace her? Quinn would be around to help out, but she was a little rough around the edges as far as customer service went.
Stephan nodded. “And we’re hoping you’ll sign today,” he said. “I’m sure you can understand how we’re pressed for time.”
Celeste nodded. “Of course,” she said, accepting the envelope Stephan passed her. He nodded encouragement for her to open it.
She slid the contract from the envelope and scanned the details. Full time. Three-month probation period. Bonus potential at the manager’s discretion. Three weeks of vacation during shoulder season. The salary was comparable to what her parents paid her and included lodging.
The thought of packing up her cabin sent a wave of nausea over her. “Excuse me for a moment,” Celeste said, standing up and laying her napkin on her chair. She was going to be sick.
Celeste headed to the washroom, her head spinning with possibilities. It was a beautiful resort. A secure contract with a more-than-reputable company. The other staff seemed nice enough, and the staff meals and spa discounts sounded enticing. Signing the contract was a no-brainer, wasn’t it?
She didn’t have a lot of time to think it through.
Instead of escaping to the washroom, Celeste slipped out of the restaurant and walked alone down the forest path that led to the back docks where the service deliveries would happen and where the staff coming and going from the mainland would disembark, so as not to ruin the more impressive sweeping ocean vista at the other side of the resort for the guests.
She walked out along the narrow wooden dock, waves lapping gently at the sandy shore underneath, her mind whirling with uncertainty.
Staring out at the water, she jumped when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Did she actually have service? She slid it out and scanned the screen, where several messages had come through, but there was only one service bar.
Quinn had texted to ask where she’d left the shed key. There was a 10-percent-off sale email from the local bakery and a message from her friend Mel in Ontario asking about visiting that summer with her new girlfriend. At the bottom of the list, there was an Instagram notification, alerting her that she’d been tagged in a post from Kassie Harris.
She went to open it, then thought for a second. No doubt it was a series of photos from the wedding, with Jack looking gorgeous and perfect in the background. She couldn’t face that.
She’d half hoped he’d call after realizing what a jerk he’d been the other night at the lodge, but nothing. And now Celeste understood why. Living here, literally in the middle of nowhere, would have made a relationship impossible. He’d been right to cut things off, a realization that sent a wave of regret coursing through her veins.
Curiosity got the better of her, and when she opened the post to see a single photo—which was of her, clipboard in hand—her mouth opened in surprise. She looked closer and realized it was the moment she’d motioned to the jazz trio to start the processional song.
“What the…” she breathed. Underneath the photo, there were already over three hundred comments. Her heart pounded in her chest.
She tapped the screen and read the message that accompanied the photo.
This is Celeste McCarthy, AKA my guardian angel.
Celeste took a sharp breath in, then scrolled through the message.
When Jeff and I booked our wedding at the Butterfly Lake Lodge two years ago, we knew we’d found the right place to get married. But little did we know that Celeste would be part of the package and she would make our perfect day even more so. Gracious, warm, and creative, with a sixth sense to know what people want and need, and the patience of a saint, Celeste was an absolute gift. If you’re ever so lucky as to be near Butterfly Lake, go see Celeste. She’ll make your dreams come true. xoxo
A lump formed in Celeste’s throat. She’d been thanked before, and a few guests had mentioned her by name on TripAdvisor. But seeing such a personal message, broadcast to millions of people—it was both terrifying and filled her up with pride and gratitude.
She looked back at the island, the trees seeming to vibrate in luscious green.
She could be that here, right? So what if there was a playbook?
“Leap of faith,” she whispered, but she didn’t know what that meant anymore.
Celeste slid her phone into her jacket, and her hand brushed against something in her pocket. She pulled it out to find the small kit she’d taken home from Jack’s class on that first day, then opened it to find the brass hook and a few feathers and pieces of wire.
She remembered exactly what she’d said to Jack: If I ever get stranded in the middle of nowhere, I’ll know I can survive.
A cool breeze carrying a light ocean spray moved off the ocean. Celeste slid the kit back into her pocket next to her phone.
Stephan and Levi would be wondering where she was.
She started back towards the restaurant, where their plates had been cleared away, and Stephen and Levi were eager to hear her impressions about the resort. The rest of their meeting was positive, and Celeste promised them an answer by the following day, although she’d already made up her mind.
One hour later, she was back in the boat with Alexis, wind whipping through her hair as they traveled back to the mainland.
Celeste sat back in her seat and closed her eyes, taking in slow, deep breaths of the fresh ocean air, feeling a sense of calm and resolve.
Leap of faith.