Chapter 10
Thursday morning starts with Justin's alarm at five-thirty.
I groan, burying my face in the pillow. "Why do you hate sleep?"
"I don't hate sleep. I value productivity.
" He's already up, moving around the room with that infuriating morning energy.
"And you have an HR meeting at two. You need to eat breakfast, go home and change, which reminds me, tonight we should talk about getting some of your clothes over here for when you spend the night, and then you need to get to work—"
"I get it, I get it." I sit up, rubbing my eyes. “You are a very bossy morning person.”
"You like it."
"I'm starting to question that."
He appears beside the bed, already dressed in slacks and a button-down, holding a mug of hot cocoa. "Liar."
I take the drink, inhale the steam. "Fine. I like you, but the morning person part? Still questionable."
He kisses the top of my head. "I’ve made breakfast, come on."
By six-thirty, I'm fed, dressed in yesterday's clothes, and talking to Justin through Bluetooth as I drive back to my apartment. The sun is just starting to rise, painting the mountains gold.
"Nervous?" he asks.
"About the HR meeting? Terrified."
"Don't be. We're doing this right. Being honest and transparent."
"What if they say we can't be together?"
"They won't. But if they try, I'll handle it."
"How?"
"By reminding them that we're both adults, we're disclosing properly, and there's no policy against consensual relationships.
" There’s a pause on the line and then, "and if they push back, I'll escalate it and remind them that I own the park. I’m only going to them out of respect and to set an example for the employees on how to proceed.
This isn't negotiable, Holly. You're not negotiable. "
The fierceness in his voice makes my chest tight. "Okay." I pull in front of my apartment. “I’m home.”
"One-thirty. My meeting. Two o'clock, yours. After, we'll know where we stand with HR."
"And then?"
"And then we move forward. Together. I'll see you at work soon. Don’t be late.”
"I won’t if you let me off the phone," I joke.
"And tonight, you're coming back to my place. And I'm going to take very good care of you after what I'm sure will be a stressful day."
Heat floods through me. "Is that a promise?"
"It's a guarantee."
Work is chaos.
It starts with a planning session for the "Christmas in July" event, and the entire creative team is arguing about themes while guests flood in for the regular attractions.
I'm pulled in six directions at once, helping with the planning session, covering the Santa House, fixing a malfunctioning animatronic in the sleigh display.
I barely have time to think, which is probably good. If I thought too much about the HR meeting looming at two o'clock, I'd spiral.
"Holly!" Mrs. Jensen waves me over. "Can you grab the backup Santa suit from storage? Jim spilled coffee on his."
"On it."
I head to the storage building, digging through costume racks until I find a clean suit. As I'm pulling it down, I hear voices outside. Male voices. One of them is Justin's.
I shouldn't eavesdrop. But I freeze anyway.
"—not appropriate." That's Derek, head of maintenance. "She's young enough to be your daughter."
"She's twenty-three," Justin says, and his voice is cold. "We’re both consenting adults."
"Still looks bad. Boss and employee? Come on, Bell. You know how this plays."
"I know exactly how it plays. Which is why we're disclosing it properly through HR."
"People are already talking."
"Let them talk."
"It affects morale. People think she's getting special treatment."
"She's not." Justin's voice is firm. "She earned her position before we ever got together. Her performance reviews speak for themselves. If anyone has concerns about favoritism, they can file a formal complaint with HR."
"I'm just saying—"
"I know what you're saying. And I'm telling you it's none of your concern. My personal life is my own business, as long as it doesn't affect my professional responsibilities. Which it won't."
There's a pause. Then Derek says, "Your grandfather would be disappointed."
The words land like a slap. I can feel the silence that follows, heavy and sharp.
When Justin speaks again, his voice is quieter.
Dangerous. "My grandfather built this place on the belief that everyone deserves magic.
Everyone deserves to be happy. He would have been the first person to tell me to hold onto someone who makes me happy, consequences be damned. " A pause. "We're done here."
Footsteps. The sound of Derek walking away.
I wait a beat, then emerge from the storage building with the Santa suit. Justin's standing alone, shoulders tight, staring at nothing.
"Hey," I say softly.
He turns, and for a second, I see the strain on his face before he smooths it away. "Hey. You heard that?"
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry? You defended us."
"I know. But you shouldn't have to hear that kind of—" He stops, runs a hand through his hair. "People are going to say things. Worse things than that."
"I can handle it."
"Can you?" He steps closer, voice dropping. "Because this is just the beginning. Derek's not the only one who thinks this is inappropriate. And when HR makes it official, when people know for sure—"
"Then they know." I set down the Santa suit, move into his space. "Justin. I don't care what people say. I care about you."
"You say that now."
"I'll say it tomorrow too. And next week. And next month." I take his hand. "You told me you don't do halfway. Neither do I. We're all in, remember?"
Some of the tension drains from his shoulders. He pulls me close, presses his forehead to mine. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me."
"Then don't push me away trying to protect me." I pull back, meet his eyes. "We do this together. That's the deal."
"You're right." He kisses me quickly, then steps back. "Go. Mrs. Jensen's waiting for that suit."
"Bossy."
"Always."
At one-forty-five, I'm pacing in the hallway outside the HR office, trying not to throw up.
Justin went in fifteen minutes ago. I haven't heard anything. No shouting, no sounds of disaster, just quiet conversation behind a closed door.
The door opens.
Justin emerges, expression neutral. He glances at me, gives the barest nod, then continues down the hallway without stopping.
Professional. Right. We agreed.
But my hands are shaking.
"Holly White?" The HR director, Patricia Chen, appears in the doorway. "Come in."
I follow her into the small office. She gestures to a chair, settles behind her desk, and opens a file.
"Thank you for coming in," she says. "I understand you and Director Bell have disclosed a personal relationship?"
"Yes."
"Can you tell me, in your own words, how this relationship began?"
I take a breath. "We got snowed in together at the lodge last weekend. During the storm. We talked. We realized there was... a connection."
"Had there been any indication of this connection before the storm?"
"No. I mean, I thought he was attractive, but we barely spoke before that. Just professional interactions. If I were to be honest with you?”
“That’s what we are expecting, honesty.”
“Well, I thought he was high and mighty. I thought he was letting the park go to gallop around the world. This weekend he showed me the park from his own view. He showed me how some of the things I thought were bad about the park actually give it character. No, we weren’t dating before this weekend. "
Patricia makes a note. "And since the relationship began, have you noticed any change in your work dynamic? Any preferential treatment?"
"No. He's been completely professional at work."
"Has he given you assignments or opportunities you wouldn't have otherwise received?"
"No. Everything I do, I’ve earned based on my performance."
More notes. "I have to ask this next question. Are you feeling any pressure to continue this relationship? Any concern that ending it might affect your employment?"
"No. None at all."
"And you're comfortable with the power dynamic? Boss and employee?"
I hesitate, biting back a snarky retort. If only she knew exactly how comfortable I was with the power dynamic between us. "Yes. We've talked about it extensively. We both understand the need for clear boundaries at work."
Patricia studies me for a long moment. "Holly, I'm going to be direct with you. Office romances, especially between supervisors and subordinates, can create complications. Perceptions of favoritism, questions about consent, concerns about professional judgment."
"I understand."
"However." She closes the file. "You're both adults. You've disclosed the relationship promptly and appropriately. And from what Director Bell has shared, you've both committed to maintaining professional boundaries at work."
My heart hammers. "So...?"
"So, we're going to allow the relationship to continue on the job, with some conditions.
" She pulls out a form. "First, we'll be reassigning your direct reporting line.
You'll report only to Mrs. Jensen instead of Director Bell.
Second, Director Bell will recuse himself from any decisions about your performance reviews, compensation, or advancement.
Third, if either of you experiences any pressure, discomfort, or concern about the relationship affecting work, you're to report it immediately. "
"That's... fair."
"We'll also be monitoring the situation.
If there are any complaints of favoritism or inappropriate conduct, we'll investigate thoroughly.
I will have to let you know Holly, Director Bell owns the park.
If you continue in this relationship and it ends badly, if it became impossible to work together, it would be you that would need to find new employment. "
"I understand."
She slides the form across the desk. "Read this over. Sign if you agree to the terms."