Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Natalie stood at the kitchen island, staring blankly at the array of ingredients spread out before her. The salmon filets she'd planned to serve as the main course for tonight's welcome dinner now seemed like an absurd extravagance for a party of one, so she began to wrap them up for the freezer.
"So much for my grand plans," she muttered, thinking of the elaborate menu she'd spent days perfecting.
The Holloways were supposed to have been impressed by her culinary skills, maybe even raved about them to their wealthy friends.
Now, those dreams of future bookings and generous tips were melting away faster than snow on a sunny day.
As she stored away the unused ingredients, Nat's mind drifted to Ms. Holloway. What kind of person rents out an entire luxury lodge just for themselves? And during Christmas, no less? The woman was an enigma, wrapped in designer clothes and a frosty demeanor.
Her phone buzzed with a text from her mother: "How are the Holloways settling in? Did the kids like the welcome cookies?"
"Everything's fine," Nat typed back. "But it’s a party for one. I’ll explain later. Love you."
She put her phone away and glanced at the clock. It was nearing dinnertime, and despite Ms. Holloway's earlier dismissal, Nat felt obligated to at least offer her guest some food. Taking a deep breath, she made her way upstairs and knocked softly on the master suite door.
"Ms. Holloway? I was wondering if you'd like me to prepare dinner for you this evening."
Silence stretched for what felt like an eternity before the door opened. Ms. Holloway stood there, looking slightly disheveled, as if she'd been napping. Her hair was tousled, and her sweater was wrinkled. For a brief moment, she looked almost... human.
"What time is it?" she asked, blinking as if trying to orient herself.
"Just past six, ma'am," Nat replied, trying to keep her tone neutral. "I usually serve dinner around seven, but I can adjust that to whatever time suits you best."
Ms. Holloway appeared to consider this for a moment. "Seven is fine," she said finally. "Something light. I'm not particularly hungry."
Nat was relieved to have at least some direction. "Of course. Any preferences or dietary restrictions I should be aware of?"
"No red meat," Ms. Holloway said. "And no dessert. I'll be down at seven." With that, she closed the door, leaving Nat alone in the hallway once again.
Back in the kitchen, Nat set about preparing a simple dinner for one. She decided on a grilled salmon steak with asparagus and a salad with a light vinaigrette dressing.
The familiar motions reminded her of the countless hours she'd spent in her parents' bakery, learning the ins and outs of food preparation.
Those early experiences had sparked a passion that led her to study hospitality management in college, where she'd honed her skills both in the kitchen and in customer service.
She’d worked in a high-end restaurant in Denver and the fast-paced environment had been exhilarating, pushing her culinary skills to new heights. But something had always felt missing – the personal touch, the intimate connection with guests that she'd grown up with in her family's bakery.
That's what had drawn her to become a chalet girl.
It combined her love for cooking with her knack for hospitality, allowing her to create personalized experiences for guests in one of the most beautiful settings imaginable.
Over the years, she'd built a reputation as one of the best in the area, known for her exquisite meals and attentive service.
At precisely seven o'clock, Ms. Holloway appeared in the dining room. She'd changed into a different sweater, this one a deep burgundy that complemented her pale skin.
"Your dinner is ready, Ms. Holloway," Nat said, gesturing to the beautifully set table. She'd used the lodge's finest china and crystal, wanting to maintain some semblance of the luxury experience she'd planned. "I hope you like salmon."
Ms. Holloway nodded as she took her seat. "It's fine, thank you."
Nat poured a glass of chilled white wine, then stepped back. "Will there be anything else?"
Ms. Holloway hesitated. "I'll be leaving early tomorrow to hit the slopes. I don't require breakfast."
"Of course," Nat replied, trying not to let her disappointment show. She'd been hoping to showcase her breakfast skills, maybe even coax a smile out of her stoic guest. "What time would you like dinner prepared tomorrow evening?"
"Ms. Holloway took a small sip of the wine, her expression unreadable. "I'm not sure I'll be back for dinner tomorrow," she said. "Don't wait around for me; I’m sure you have better things to do. I can fend for myself if you show me where everything is."
Nat blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. "I'm sorry, Ms. Holloway, but I'm required to be here. It's my job to ensure your stay is comfortable and that all your needs are met."
Ms. Holloway raised an eyebrow. "That's not necessary. You can go home. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm not allowed to do that," Nat explained, trying to keep her tone polite but firm. "My presence here is part of the service you've paid for. If I don't fulfill my duties, I won't get paid. And frankly, I need this job."
Ms. Holloway’s jaw set as she looked down at her plate. "I see. Very well, I understand. In that case," she continued, setting down her fork, "I'd like to lay down some ground rules."
Nat straightened, bracing herself. "Of course. What did you have in mind?"
"First, regarding meals," Ms. Holloway began, her tone businesslike. "You can prepare dinner as planned. If I'm not here, simply leave it in front of the microwave in the kitchen. I'll heat it up myself when I return."
Nat nodded, making mental notes.
"For breakfast," Ms. Holloway continued, "you can prepare it as you normally would. If I don't require it, you're free to dispose of it. I won't always know in advance if I'll be having breakfast here."
"Understood," Nat said, though internally she winced at the thought of potentially wasting food.
"Next, my ski gear," Ms. Holloway said. "I'd like it cleaned and my skis polished each night, ready for use the next day. Can you manage that?"
"Yes, of course."
"Good." Ms. Holloway paused, then added, "Apart from that, I assure you, I'll be the easiest guest you've ever had to deal with. I require minimal interaction and prefer my privacy."
Nat forced a smile, though internally she was far from convinced. "I understand."
Ms. Holloway returned her attention to her meal, and Nat stood there for a moment, unsure if she was dismissed or if Ms. Holloway would have more to say.
As the silence stretched on, Nat couldn't shake the uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.
Despite Ms. Holloway's assurance that she'd be an easy guest, Nat was getting seriously bad vibes from this woman.
The cold demeanor, the rigid rules, the clear desire for isolation – it all added up to what promised to be a very challenging two weeks.
But Nat needed this job. Her family needed this job, and no matter how difficult Ms. Holloway might be, she would provide the best service possible.
She would be professional, efficient, and unflappable.
She plastered on her most professional smile and said, "Is there anything else you need for now, Ms. Holloway?"
Ms. Holloway looked up, seeming almost surprised to see Nat still standing there. "No, that will be all. Thank you." When she finally met Nat’s eyes for a brief moment, Nat noticed they were red-rimmed and realized the woman hadn’t been sleeping earlier. She’d been crying.