Chapter 9
Nine
Joy
Now that I'm back in my room by myself, I'm feeling the same loneliness I've felt in my apartment. Those few hours I was with Winter and Alana, I wasn't lonely. There were people around to share my time with.
Tears pool in my eyes as I think about the amount of times I've wanted to just talk to someone after a long day at work. Where I wanted something more than TV and work. It's not lost on me that this might be the answer to a prayer I've whispered once or twice.
Picking up my cell, I see that I finally have a few bars of service. Immediate I log onto Instagram and head over to the Patterson account that I would've been in charge of. My stomach drops when I see that they've obviously used Brittany's idea.
Is this the kick in the ass I've needed?
Clicking on the search function, I go to Cedar Lodge's Instagram feed, and cringe when I see what's been posted. There is so much that can be done, and immediately I've got ideas. One's that would make a huge difference for Winter and his business.
Quickly I scroll through my contacts, finding a friend who isn't affiliated with my job, I press the button to call him.
"Hey Johnny, you know those pictures you took at that lodge last year?
" He came out to Colorado, but not here.
They're close enough though, so that I can make a mockup for Winter.
"Hey Joy, heard you're stuck in Colorado right now. I'd kill to be where you are. Can't imagine the type of snow you're seeing."
I roll my eyes, needing him to hurry up slightly. "It's insanity," I laugh. "In fact I haven't been able to get out in it yet. I've been snowed-in, but I'll let you know."
He makes a non-commital sound. "But anyway, back to those pictures. Yeah I still have them. What can I do for you?"
"I need to make a mockup for a client, and they have the same type of vibe. Do you mind if I use them?" I'm crossing my fingers, hoping he doesn't have a problem.
"No, go for it. I can't wait to see what you do."
When we get off the phone, I'm ready to dig in. I can't remember the last time I've been so excited and inspired to work on a project, and I know the reason is because I'm sure the rest of my future might hang in the balance.
Opening my laptop, I pull up Photoshop and start creating mock Instagram posts.
The wi-fi is still spotty, but I downloaded everything I need before it cuts out again.
I work through potential captions, hashtag strategies, content calendars.
Everything I've learned over the past ten years pours out of me, but this time it's different.
This time I care about the business I'm promoting.
By two in the morning, my eyes are burning, but I have a comprehensive social media strategy laid out.
I've created mock posts showcasing the lodge in different seasons, highlighted family-friendly activities, emphasized the romantic getaway angle.
I've designed graphics for Instagram Stories, drafted Facebook posts, even outlined a TikTok strategy.
The work is some of the best I've ever done, and I know it's because my heart is actually in it.
I finally close my laptop around three-thirty, crawling into bed with a satisfied exhaustion I haven't felt in years.
As I drift off, I'm not thinking about the Patterson account or Brittany or Alex's betrayal.
I'm thinking about Winter's kiss, about Alana's smile, about the possibility of everything I didn't realize I was missing.
The next morning, I wake to patchy sunlight streaming through the window.
Actual sunlight, not the gray storm light I've seen since I arrived.
Grabbing my phone, I see it's already eight-thirty.
I can't remember the last time I slept this late.
Quickly scrolling through the weather, I see the last of the storm is moving out, and that it should be a nice, partly sunny day.
After a quick shower, I dress in jeans and a soft burgundy sweater, taking time with my makeup again. I tell myself it's just because I feel like it, not because I'm hoping to see Winter. But I know I'm lying to myself.
When I make it downstairs, I find Winter and Alana already at a table in the dining room. Alana spots me first.
"Joy, come have breakfast with us." She's bouncing in her seat, and Winter turns, his face lighting up when he sees me.
"Morning," he says, his voice doing warm things to my insides. "Sleep well?" He's got a couple days of beard-growth on his face, and it's sexy as hell.
"Better than I have in months," I admit, sliding into the chair next to him. Our knees brush under the table, but neither of us moves away.
"Carol's making pancakes and bacon," Alana announces. "It's my favorite breakfast in the whole world."
"That sounds perfect," I tell her, a smile on my face at her excitement.
Carol appears moments later with plates piled high with fluffy pancakes and crispy bacon. "You look well-rested," she says to me with a knowing smile.
"I am, thank you."
As we eat, Alana chatters about her plans for the day. Apparently the lodge is making cookies for Santa since it's Christmas Eve. I catch Winter watching me over his daughter's head, and the heat in his eyes makes me forget how to chew.
"This is really good," I say, gesturing to my plate, needing to say something to break the tension.
"Carol's the best cook in three counties," Winter says with a wink. "One of the many reasons I'm lucky to have her."
"Daddy, after breakfast can I go help Carol make cookies for Santa?" Alana asks, syrup dripping down her chin.
Winter reaches over with his napkin, wiping it away. "You can, but you have to promise to listen to her and not eat all the cookie dough."
"I promise." Alana crosses her heart dramatically.
We finish breakfast in comfortable conversation, and I'm struck by how natural this feels. Like we're a family. Like this is a routine we do every morning. The thought should terrify me, but instead it fills me with warmth.
When Alana's plate is clean, she jumps up. "Can I go now?"
"Go ahead, sweetheart. Be good for Carol."
Alana takes off toward the kitchen, and suddenly Winter and I are alone. The dining room has cleared out, and it's just us at this table.
"Come here," he says softly, standing and pulling me up with him.
Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine. The kiss is different from last night, hungrier and more urgent. His hands slide into my hair, and I grip his flannel shirt, pulling him closer. When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"I've been wanting to do that since I woke up this morning," he admits, his forehead resting against mine.
"Me too," I whisper, then grin at him. "Actually, I have something to show you."
His eyebrows raise, a smile spreading across his face. "Yeah?"
"I took the liberty of doing something last night. After I left you." I grab my laptop bag from where I left it next to my chair. "Do you have a few minutes?"
"For you? Always."
We settle back at the table, and I open my laptop, pulling up the mockup I created. "So I looked at Cedar Lodge's current social media presence, and I think there's a lot of room for improvement. I put together a sample campaign to show you what could be done."
I watch his face as he scrolls through the mock posts, the content calendar, the engagement strategy. His expression goes from curious to amazed.
"Joy, this is... this is incredible." He looks up at me, his eyes wide. "How did you do all this in one night?"
"I couldn't sleep," I admit, shrugging with slight embarrassment because he seems so impressed. "And I was inspired. Your lodge, Winter, it's special. But your social media doesn't reflect that. You're not reaching the audience you could be reaching."
He scrolls through more of the mockup, shaking his head in disbelief. "The current person I have doing this clearly isn't cutting it. This is professional level stuff."
"It's what I do," I say simply. "Or what I did. What I'm good at, anyway."
Winter sets the laptop down and turns to face me fully. "I want to offer you a job."
My heart skips. "What?"
"I'm serious. I need someone who knows what they're doing with social media and marketing. Someone who understands the vision for this place. Someone who cares about it." He takes my hand. "I think that someone could be you."
"Winter, I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything yet," he says quickly. "I want you to think about it. Really think about it. This isn't just about us, about what's happening between us. This is about you and your career and what you want for your life. But I'm telling you right now, if you want this job, it's yours."
Tears prick my eyes as I realize he's giving me everything I didn't know I wanted. "You don't even know my salary requirements."
"I don't care. We'll figure it out. I know what good marketing is worth, and this?" He gestures to the laptop. "This is worth a lot."
"I need time to think," I say, my voice shaky.
"I know. Which is why I want you to wait until the day after Christmas to give me your answer.
By then they'll have the road clear, and you'll be able to leave if you want to.
Until then, let's just enjoy our time together.
No pressure, no expectations. Just you, me, and Alana having a good Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. "
I lean forward and kiss him softly. "That sounds perfect."
"Good." He stands, pulling me up with him. "Now, how about we go see what kind of chaos Alana and Carol are creating in the kitchen? I have a feeling we're going to need to supervise."
As we walk toward the kitchen, his hand finds mine, our fingers intertwining. Through the doorway, I can hear Alana's laughter and Carol's patient instructions about cookie cutouts.
For the first time in ten years, I'm not thinking about what I left behind or what I'm running toward. I'm just here, in this moment, with these people who are quickly becoming more important to me than any job or career ever could be.
Maybe that's the real gift this Christmas? Not the job offer, not the second chance, but the realization that what I've been searching for all along has been here, waiting for me to come home.
"Hey," Winter says, squeezing my hand as we stop outside the kitchen door for a second.
"Yeah?"
"I'm really glad you got stranded here."
I squeeze back, smiling up at him. "Me too."
And I mean it with every fiber of my being.
We push through the kitchen door to find Alana covered in flour, a huge smile on her face. "Joy. Daddy. Look at the cookies we're making!"
The rest of Christmas Eve passes in a blur of cookie decorating, hot chocolate, and Christmas movies playing in the lobby for the few guests who are hanging out in the lobby.
Winter and I steal kisses when Alana isn't looking, our hands finding each other under blankets, our bodies gravitating together like magnets.
As night falls and Alana finally succumbs to sleep on the couch, Winter carries her to bed. When he comes back, he pulls me close. "Are you all staying here? Will Santa come to the lodge?"
"Yeah," he chuckles. "We've always done it this way. I don't even remember why we started doing it this way, but she loves it and so do I."
"Makes sense." I look around the room. "It's kind of exciting to think Santa will show up here for her. Do you put the presents under this tree?"
"No." He shakes his head. "There's a small living room off of my office. Hopefully you'll come down in the morning and spend time with us while she opens her gifts. I can show you around."
I love the way he's thought of everything. "I will love that."
"Thank you for today," he whispers. "For being here. For caring about her. For caring about this place."
"Thank you for giving me a reason to stay," I whisper back.
We sit by the fire, watching the snow fall outside, and I know that no matter what I decide about the job, everything has changed. I've changed. And for once, I'm not scared of what comes next.
I'm excited about it.