Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Sunny
I’ve decided.
If this hotel is going down, it’s going down festively.
There’s a lot to handle. The whole place is falling apart. The finances are grim. The pipes are leaking, the heating system’s a joke, and the floors creak louder than a haunted house.
But you know what? Screw it. It’s basically the festive season. I’m going to do what I can to make Aunt Evie proud. And even if it all goes wrong, then at least I’ll give it a send-off worthy of a holiday movie.
I’m not saying it’s ideal. But it’s the best I’ve got.
Fueled by way too much caffeine and the toxic level of panic that’s been my constant companion since I inherited this place, I dive into the project headfirst.
The first big event is going to be my Tinsel and Toddy kickoff night in the lobby: live music, festive drinks, and a local artisan pop-up selling overpriced handmade ornaments.
It’s genius.
Right?
It’s something I would want to attend, which is a start.
I’ve already pulled out my phone, painstakingly clicking through my Pinterest board labeled Holiday Hotel Revival, because, yes, I’ve become that person, and I’ve got a vision.
Glittering fairy lights, a hot toddy bar, maybe even a DIY station where people can make their own little reindeer ornaments out of twigs and too much hot glue.
I get distracted for a second by the perfect snow globe centerpiece on someone’s Pinterest board and immediately make a mental note to grab one of those from somewhere.
This is going to be the thing that either saves me or breaks me.
“Dex!” I call, rushing out from my little corner office where I’ve surrounded myself with lists, half-empty coffee cups, and way too many open tabs. “I need your help.”
He pops his head around the doorframe, wearing his usual I’ve seen it all and I still can’t be bothered to care look.
He’s wearing a velvet blazer that’s somehow even more glamorous than my entire wardrobe, and he’s cradling a mug of some liquid. Probably a spiced latte, because he’s basically the definition of cosmic barista.
“Did you say help?” He raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were just, y’know, winging it on your own. Decided to throw a party for your feelings and maybe get the hotel up and running with zero expertise?”
“Exactly,” I say, far too enthusiastically for someone whose life is a dumpster fire of spreadsheets and stress.
“That’s exactly the vibe. But I really need your touch on this.
I need someone who understands fun and who can, like, actually help make it look cute.
You know, like how you can make a hay bale look chic? ”
He gives me a skeptical look, eyeing my overstuffed Pinterest board. “Are you sure you’re not just throwing glitter on this dumpster fire and calling it a revival?”
“You are going to make it fabulous,” I reply, with the kind of desperate enthusiasm only a caffeine-addled mind can conjure.
“Please, Dex. I need to distract the guests from the fact that half of the lights are flickering and we’re low on linens.
Plus, it’s Christmas! Who can say no to a ‘Tinsel and Toddy’ kickoff? ”
His eyes narrow suspiciously as if I’ve asked him to organize a parade float out of spaghetti. “What exactly is a ‘Tinsel and Toddy’ kickoff?”
“It’s going to be epic. A holiday event with live music, hot toddy tastings, local artisans, and everything festive I can throw together. You know, really make it feel like we’re in a holiday movie.”
Dex takes a slow sip from his mug and stares at me like I’m about to reveal a body under the floorboards. “And you didn’t run this by Ryder first?”
“Why would I?” I ask, a bit too defensively.
“It’s a one-night event. It’s festive. It’s harmless.
I’m sure it’s what Aunt Evie would’ve wanted.
Plus, it’s not going to cost much at all.
The band I’ve messaged is local and will perform for cheap, and the craft vendors are just grateful for a place to sell their wares. ”
Dex raises an eyebrow. “Just remember, if you’re going full Christmas cheer, you’d better be ready for his full Christmas rage.”
“I’ll deal with it.” I wave my hand dismissively, already planning where the twinkle lights will go.
It’s been ten minutes since Dex agreed to help, and I’m deep in the throes of elf ear gluing and fairy light arrangement when the door to my office flies open with enough force to rattle the framed picture of Aunt Evie on the wall.
Ryder stands in the doorway, face of thunder, his cold eyes pinning me to the chair.
Shit.
Time to face the music.
“What the hell is this?” he snaps, pointing at my laptop screen where I’ve sent an email titled “Let’s make Santa proud.” I’m pretty sure I have glue on my fingers, and my hair is half up in some crazy, chaotic bun.
I stand up, wiping my hands on my pants, but before I can even make a half-hearted attempt at smoothing things over, he slams the door shut behind him.
“Did you send this out to the entire staff? You’re planning a Tinsel and Toddy event in the middle of a financial disaster?”
“Look, Ryder…” I start, my tone already climbing into frustration territory because I can feel the guilt trip coming, and I’m not interested.
“What even is a hot toddy tasting flight?” he shoots back, running a hand through his hair as if I just suggested a medieval joust for entertainment. “This isn’t a goddamn bar crawl, Sunny.”
I exhale, trying not to just throw a stapler at his face. “It’s a holiday event. You know, festive? Fun? It’s almost December. People want to feel good. People want to escape the constant pressure of bills and impending doom.”
“You think a handful of overpriced drinks and some arts and crafts are going to pull this place out of a financial hole?” His voice drops an octave, turning icy. “This isn’t some pop-up Christmas market, it’s a hotel. A business.”
I cross my arms, staring at him. “And if I don’t give them something to be excited about, what do you think will happen?
They’ll keep walking through the front door with their wallets closed and their faces long.
No one’s going to invest in this place if it feels like a mausoleum with a Christmas tree. ”
He rakes his fingers through his hair again, clearly ready to explode. “You want a solution? How about I remind you that we’re in the red? How about I remind you that we can’t afford a party?”
“Fine.” I throw my hands up. “Maybe I can’t fix the finances with holiday cheer, but I can at least try something. Do you have a better idea, Ryder? A magic solution to fix everything?”
The silence that follows is heavy and suffocating. He looks at me. Really looks at me, his gaze sharp, but there’s more there. Maybe he’s seeing the same thing I am a hotel with cracks in every floorboard, but a lot of heart.
“I don’t think this is the right idea, Sunny,” he says quietly, more controlled now, “but I’m willing to hear you out. The numbers don’t lie, but I’ll give you one shot.”
I stare at him for a beat. “One shot?”
“Yeah,” he says firmly. “Prove to me this can work.”
I stand there for a moment, completely unsure of whether I just won that argument or just managed to get a small glimmer of hope. “Deal.”
As Ryder leaves, he pauses at the door, turning back to me as his eyes narrow slightly. “Just don’t go overboard, okay? This isn’t just about holiday spirit.”
I nod quickly. “Understood.”
But as soon as the door shuts behind him, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I’m not sure if I’ve won this battle, but at least I’ve got a chance.
And in this hotel, a chance is all I’ve ever needed.
I sit back down in my chair, breathing in deep, trying to shake off the adrenaline from Ryder’s little tirade. I glance around the office, half-expecting the walls to collapse in on me.
“Let’s make Santa proud.” I chuckle to myself because, well, it is kind of ridiculous. But at least it’s something.
I grab my phone off the desk, scrolling to Marjorie’s name before I can talk myself out of it. If there’s one person who always knows how to pull me out of a spiral, it’s Marjorie James.
Loud, loyal, and borderline inappropriate in a way that could make a nun blush, she’s the kind of best friend you’d want in your corner, even if you’re knee-deep in a train wreck.
The phone rings twice before she picks up.
“Sunny! You are never going to believe the insane thing I just saw. They’ve put up the most gorgeous tree in the middle of the mall. You have to see it. Let me send you a pic.”
I can’t help but laugh, but there’s a twang in my heart. I’ve been excited about this opportunity, but I still miss home a little.
“Marj, it’s ten a.m. You’re already fired up about holiday decor?”
“Sweetheart, I was born fired up. You know this. But less about me. How’s the hotel going? You managing to keep it afloat, or have you lit it on fire and danced around it yet?”
“Don’t tempt me,” I mutter, slumping in my chair.
“Oh, honey. You can’t quit on me that easily.
You know I’m coming to visit in a couple of months to stir some serious shit up.
I can’t let you get away with this by yourself.
” She pauses, and I can practically hear the wicked grin on her face.
“But seriously, how’s it going? You sound like you’ve got a whole lot of stress on your plate. ”
“You have no idea.” I let out a breath, tapping my pen against the desk.
“I’m trying to pull off this Christmas event.
‘Tinsel and Toddy.’ You know, to save the hotel.
But Ryder…” I roll my eyes. “Ryder’s pissed.
I didn’t run it by him first. He’s worried about budgets, and he thinks I’m trying to sell hot toddies like they’re going to save the damn place. ”
“Ryder?”
“Ugh, the most boring CFO I’ve ever met in my life.” I roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me. “I don’t know why Aunt Evie hired him.”
Marjorie laughs, and I can’t help but crack a smile.
“I’m already halfway to getting it organized. But now I’m at this point where I’m freaking out, and I’m trying to keep it together, but the hotel is hanging on by a thread. And Ryder’s been on my case about everything. He just doesn’t get it, Marj. He’s all numbers and no soul.”
“Well, he sounds like the human equivalent of a wet blanket at a stripper party,” Marjorie says, dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe you should just drop a glitter bomb on him and see if that breaks his business suit persona.”
“I wish.” I smile, but then the mood shifts. “But honestly, that’s not even the worst part.”
She’s quiet for a beat, probably reading the tone of my voice. “What’s going on, baby girl? Spill it.”
I hesitate for a second, biting my lip. “Well, I didn’t know who he was when I first got here. I just assumed he was some guy in the hotel. And—”
“Did you…?” she gasps. “Oh no, you did.”
I wince, wishing I could take the words back before she can fully process them. “It’s not what you think, Marj. It was one night. And it wasn’t supposed to be anything more. I didn’t even know who he was until, well, after.”
“Wait, wait. Hold up. You hooked up with your grumpy, number-crunching, spreadsheets-are-my-lifestyle CFO?” She practically screeches the question, and I can feel the cringe all the way through the phone.
“Yes, but can you please not make this into a thing?” I reply, lowering my voice in an attempt to keep my embarrassment contained. “It’s not like that. It was a mistake, okay? One big mistake that I’m trying hard to move on from. But now I’ve got to work with him every day, and it’s just awkward.”
She lets out a dramatic sigh, the kind only Marjorie can pull off. “Girl, you are chaos, and I love it.”
“I’m glad one of us does.”