Epilogue Mila
March.
I pause by the front window of the hotel to look out on the madhouse that is the parking lot.
Bertie rushes by with a wry grin. “You interns outdid yourselves. We’ve never had a crowd like this.”
Brooklyn hurries forward. “Mila, you need to go out to the gardens. Nobody knows the boundaries of your egg hunt to place the eggs.”
Really? I drew a map. “Thanks. I’ll go now.”
“May the best intern win!” she calls.
“Exactly!” I volley back as I head through the lobby to cut to the side yard.
The five of us are at the end of our internship period. Maverick took himself out of the running for event manager and accepted a position Jed created for him as his assistant with the animals.
For our final assignment, the four of us left were each given the same budget to create our own event for the hotel’s Spring Spectacular.
I’m heading up the Easter egg hunt, which involves ten thousand stuffed eggs in the garden. To make it more interesting, there is an adult version with discounts and gift cards to dozens of local stores.
Owen is using the western ballroom for a massive craft event where kids can make bunny ears and decorate baskets.
Ilsa has taken over the restaurant for a five-course spring menu crafted by Chef Monique.
But it’s Brooklyn who has outdone herself with a flower princess ball. She has set up the main ballroom as a pageant for hundreds of boys and girls wearing all manner of flowers and greenery. Most everyone who arrives comes in costume for her event because the winners get miniature motorized cars, which she got donated by a toy company.
She has proven scrappy with her budget, and when I walked through the ballroom with Owen earlier this morning, agog at the flowers and archways and a zillion Instagram-worthy photo spots, we both agreed that Brooklyn might have the event manager position in the bag.
But I’m impressed with myself as I push out the side door to enter the garden. Music from the DJ provides a festive, happy atmosphere for the bright, sunshiny day.
Already, hundreds of children are waiting outside the gates with their Easter baskets. Some of them wear the bunny ears from Owen’s event. Others dance in front of a long line of motorized bubble machines I rented.
I chose an outdoor space to spend the majority of my budget on the takeaways, a definite gamble with the weather. Ten thousand eggs didn’t come cheap. I contacted hundreds of businesses for the gift cards. I figured this would showcase my ability to network.
Chef Monique’s kitchen crew was too busy with Ilsa’s culinary event to spare anyone to put out eggs, so most of the staff in the garden wear laundry blues or custodial gray. I hope they don’t mind the extra work.
Trey approaches. “We’re not clear on where the under fives end and the bigger kids begin.” He holds out the map printed on a clipboard.
I turn it around. “If you look at it this way, it makes more sense.”
“Oooh, here’s the castle. And this is the path. And the tulips are the boundary.” He laughs. “I never said I was spatially gifted.”
“We put up the temporary fence to protect the flowers and to keep the little ones from straying into the big ones’ territory, or vice versa.”
“Got it.” He waves at the workers. “More over here!”
Egg hunts are fierce where I come from. In fact, some egg hunts back home host the youngest kids at a completely different time of day to avoid them getting trampled by the exuberant older ones.
I’ve separated them by only twenty minutes to avoid losing half my crowd if a family has children in both age brackets. I have a feeling once they go inside to Brooklyn’s ball, they are never coming out again.
The adult version is well after the kids’ hunt, timed to be between shifts of Ilsa’s culinary event. I hope to catch them after the one o’clock but before the two-thirty seating.
Ilsa’s is the only event with tickets. It sold out within a couple of weeks, which was a big win for her. The rest of us have a free-for-all, and we had to wildly guess at turnout.
I spot Cristal from laundry and her boyfriend from Bertie’s crew spreading eggs. I’m glad at least one of Maverick’s angry exes has moved on. Sometimes there are flare-ups among the women he sees. After six months, you’d think they would know his reputation, but he’s got something they want.
Brooklyn still sees him off and on. She’s dated a few Boulder locals outside of the hotel, but none of them have lived up to Maverick despite his flaws. She’s drunk the Kool-Aid for sure.
Ten minutes until the littles will go. I head for the sound system and pick up the microphone. The DJ running the music turns it low so I can speak.
“Hello and welcome to the Castle Hotel egg hunt. Are you all excited?”
A chorus of cheers and high-pitched screams erupts.
“That’s great! The first group to go will be children under the age of five. If you are already this many…” I hold up my hand with five fingers spread, “you will go when I call you in about half an hour! Families with children both over and under five, please separate them into their age groups. Thank you!”
I click off the mic and the music gets loud again. I wander the crowd, exclaiming over costumes and joining in a dance party in front of the bubble machines.
Havannah appears, baby Serenity strapped to her front. Donovan follows behind, trying to corral Rebel as he darts through the bubbles, waving his hands to maximize how many he can pop.
“It’s lovely, Mila,” Havannah says. “The weather cooperated and everyone is having a good time.” She snags Rebel’s shirt. “Bring it down, love. You’re going to smack someone.”
Rebel pulls away and takes off.
“I’ll follow him,” Donovan says.
“Boys,” Havannah says. She peers down at the baby. “Please be a calm one.”
The music drops low, and the DJ calls out, “Five minutes until the under-five-year-olds!”
Families move toward the garden gates.
“We’ll be back for Rebel’s age group,” Havannah says. “I’ll see you in the staff room at six for dinner and the big announcement!”
“I can’t wait!”
I slip through the crowd and enter the main gate, careful to close it behind me. This is the scariest moment of a hunt. If I didn’t plan well, people will trip and fall and there will be a disaster.
I take the mic. “Hello! Parents of the under fives, please direct your attention to the yellow balloons!” I point to my right. “There are three gates that will open. If you encounter a fence, that’s the boundary of your hunt!”
All sorts of catastrophes break across my vision. Trampling. Gates falling over. Fences jumped and no eggs left for the older kids.
I draw in a deep breath and check that staff members stand at each yellow gate. Everyone is ready. “Let’s count it down! Ten, nine, eight…”
I let them keep going.
A hand lightly touches my waist. I sense Sebastian behind me. “It’s going to be great,” he says.
I nod.
“One!”
The gates swing wide.
I hold my breath.
The gates were a good idea. The crowd enters slowly, parents holding the hands of their little ones. The oldest of this age group dash ahead once inside, picking up eggs as they go and dropping them into baskets.
Within seconds, everyone is on the hunt and the eggs quickly disappear. I reach beneath the DJ table and pull out two enormous baskets of eggs. “You want to help me distribute to any sad kids who were too shy to run and grab?” I ask.
“Absolutely.”
He takes one of the baskets, and we head for the gates. Everyone will have to leave the way they came. As we wait for people to walk by, I take Sebastian in, tall and handsome in his suit, his wavy black hair glinting in the sunlight.
Looking at him and realizing he’s mine — it never gets old.
The eggs are all gone. The fences have held. I check my watch. Three minutes. It’s amazing how fast they get snatched.
Parents lead their children out of the garden.
“You look like you could use a few extra,” I say to a little girl who only has three eggs. I drop a handful into her basket. “Make sure you go inside to make bunny ears or dance at the ball!”
A band of kids with baskets filled to the brim walk out, and I smile and wave as they go.
One small girl in her father’s arms is crying. “I didn’t get any!” she sobs.
“Let me see your basket,” I say. It’s empty. I pour a good dozen eggs into it. “All better!”
She reaches a hand into them. “Look at all my eggs!” She holds a pink one up to show her father.
The mom mouths, “Thank you.”
When everyone has passed, I still have a decent amount of eggs in my basket.
Sebastian walks over. “I used all mine.”
“That’s good. I have more for the next round.”
“Such a brilliant idea. Nobody goes home sad.”
I take his basket. “Exactly.”
I dump my leftovers into the baskets I’ve prepared for the older kids. There will be fewer tears in that group, but I will still try to even out the distribution.
A happy cry goes up from the group. I turn to see what is happening, and spot Maverick leading Tinsel and her foal through the crowd.
People stop to pet them both.
“Did you know he was going to do that?” I ask Sebastian.
He shakes his head. “Maverick is full of surprises.”
Maverick kneels down to tell the kids about the special donkeys from Avalonia. “Tell her a joke,” he says to a kid near him.
The boy is shy, but the one next to him says, “What kind of jokes make a baby chick laugh? Practical yolks!”
Maverick lets out a deep, loud laugh. Within seconds, Tinsel is laughing with him in a high-pitched hee hee haw haw haw.
The baby looks up at Tinsel and adds her tiny hee hee haw haw.
“Do all donkeys sound like that?” I ask Sebastian.
“Nope. Havannah brought these from Avalonia. It’s their special breed.”
“Adorable.”
The older kid hunt goes as smoothly. We get lucky that Brooklyn’s ball has scheduled the fashion show for costumes at the same time as our adult event, so we don’t have to contend with children trying to break into the hunt meant for grown-ups.
Then I’m done. I help break down the gates and give away all the balloons. I spot Sebastian in the lobby as I catch the tail end of Brooklyn’s ball. An adorable girl is crowned the spring princess, and she waves like royalty from the stage.
Owen comes up beside me. “I think we may have left a lot of crayon marks on the floor of the western ballroom.”
I laugh. “Housekeeping is going to hate us.”
“Not as much as they would have if I had bought glitter.”
“Good call.”
Brooklyn hugs the princess and the music swells as tired kids and parents file out of the ballroom to the parking lot.
Owen and I keep to the wall to let them pass.
When the space is mostly empty, we approach Brooklyn to help break down the archways. Havannah appears, free of children for the moment. “Let’s get some help for you,” she says. “Always schedule extra workers at the end of an event.” She gets on her phone.
Brooklyn grimaces. She hates it when she gets criticism, especially right before the big announcement.
Havannah waves us through the back doors. “You’ve all done enough. Let the staff handle the cleanup. I’ll see you in the staff room shortly.”
“Oh, gosh, it’s time,” Brooklyn says. She takes Owen’s hand, then mine. “No matter what happens, I love both of you.”
I squeeze her fingers. When we enter the staff room, most of the professional employees are there. Jessie, Suze, Olive, Chef Monique, Chef Filo, Hank. I spot Sebastian by the food table. He’s talking to Maverick.
Ilsa sits alone at the end of the front row. None of us have gotten to know her, but I decide to plunk down on a chair beside her. “How did your foodie event go?”
“Flawless,” she says. “I had a net profit of fourteen thousand dollars.”
Dang. The rest of us spent our budgets. “That’s fantastic.”
“If I’m not named event manager, it will be because this place doesn’t care about the bottom line.”
“I see.” I glance over at the food table, where Owen and Brooklyn are watching. Brooklyn hides a laugh behind a cup.
Owen saves me. “Mila, Ilsa, come get refreshments. The punch is good. I think it’s spiked.”
“Okay!” I jump out of my seat.
Sasha dashes inside from the front desk. She opted to stay there as lead, which is how we got Olive for assistant manager, but she’s dying to know where the rest of us are going.
Our CFO Everett strides in, tall and imposing in his business suit. His eyes dart to Ilsa, then away, but I don’t miss how she sits taller.
Interesting. I wonder what’s going on there. Everett is another elusive figure at the hotel, always holed up in his office with the accounting team.
He approaches Sebastian and they shake hands.
Havannah breezes in with a flutter of scarves. “Okay, everyone, I have exactly twenty minutes before Serenity will insist on a feeding, so let’s get to it!”
We all settle in the chairs. I sit by Ilsa again, and Owen and Brooklyn finish the row. Maverick stands by the door, shoving food in his mouth and ogling all the women.
Some things never change.
Havannah clasps her hands together. “This is an after party for our spring event, which went so fantastically. I couldn’t be more proud, especially since I didn’t have to plan one minute of it!”
Everyone laughs.
“Let’s give it up for our four interns who made this day so spectacular.”
Brooklyn and I squeeze hands as the rest of the staff applauds.
Havannah walks closer to us. “I want to tell you how proud I am. It’s been beautiful to watch you all grow from new college graduates into important partners in running this hotel.” She turns to the door where Maverick stands. “That includes you, Maverick! What a delight to bring Tinsel and her baby out to the children. You won’t even believe the social media attention the hotel got today.”
Maverick lifts his cup in acknowledgment.
“The professional staff has all given their input on where to place each of you. No matter where you end up, I hope you love your new role at the Castle Hotel.”
She returns to the front of the room, where Sebastian passes her a set of cards.
Ohhhh, so he has known all this time!
I send him a look of HEY! and he shrugs.
But of course, I get it. This was a professional secret.
Havannah holds the cards against her chest. “I’m going to talk about Owen first. Owen, you have proven your reliability, your easygoing nature, and your absolute brilliance in handling difficult guests. Sasha and Olive both noted during your rotations with the front desk that you were exceptional in de-escalating tough situations, meaning that the managers were called significantly less when you were on shift.”
She smiles at Owen. “So as of Monday morning, you will be promoted to chief guest relations officer. You will work with the front desk, the managers, and security to help handle any complications that occur with our guests. Congratulations.” She waves Owen forward for a hug, then shows off his card, which bears a shiny gold pin with his new title.
Everyone claps. Brooklyn whistles.
When the room quiets, Havannah looks down at her next card. “Ilsa, we are all in awe at the incredible event you put on today and how it was marketed and executed. It was a highly profitable part of our Spring Spectacular when I didn’t even ask for profit. Our CFO, Everett, has noted your attention to detail during your rotations in accounting, and because of his recommendation, plus your dual major in business, you have been named the marketing liaison with finance. We look forward to great things from your brilliant mind.”
Ilsa stands up. Havannah must realize Ilsa is tensing for the hug, so she extends a hand instead. “Congratulations.”
Brooklyn and I hold hands. I can see there will be no loser here. One of us will be event manager, and the other will be something amazing, too. Of course, with the way they are creating new roles, it may be that there is no event manager. Maybe the position will be split. Maybe none of us could handle such a big title.
“Brooklyn,” Havannah says. “We have been impressed by your all-around ability to work in every aspect of the hotel, and your princess ball today was the crown jewel of your abilities. I have had the pleasure of working beside you on several events, but many of us have noticed you love princesses above all things.”
The room laughs.
“It’s true!” Brooklyn says, prompting another round of laughter.
“Because of this, we have created a position devoted to everything princess, including all upgrades to our princess wing, all choices about decor in the rooms and the tower, all parties and events involving the princess themes, and are naming you, until you come up with a better title, chief princess of the Castle Hotel.”
Brooklyn jumps to her feet, tossing her long blonde hair, and giving a queenly wave. “I accept this honor, all ye peasants.”
Havannah laughs, handing her a card with a gold crown pin. The two embrace in a long, happy hug.
I steal a glance at Maverick. He has set down his food and claps exuberantly, letting out a loud whoop.
He’s proud.
He likes her.
I wonder what it will take for him to actually admit it. To choose her.
Maybe it’s not in him.
I glance at Sebastian. His grin is big.
It’s down to me.
Havannah gives Brooklyn a moment to sit down, then says, “Mila. I remember well when I saw your application. I thought, hospitality plus interior design. I can’t wait for that. But you have been so much more. You’re strategic. You’re a team player. You adjust to whatever task you’re given. You can fix a toilet, smile through a long day of laundry folding, and watch hours of security footage without complaint. You showed today that you can pull off a tricky event for all ages, and you consider budget, safety, and a good time. I am more than thrilled to turn over much of my personal control to you as our event manager. Congratulations.”
Tears smart my eyes as I stand up. I can barely hear the applause and cheers. Havannah holds out her arms and I walk into them in a daze.
As she pulls me in, I see Sebastian clapping loudly. He beams at me.
I did it. I pulled it off.
I got everything I wanted.
The job.
The man.
Friends.
A life I love.
As Havannah takes a moment to pin the gold bar to my hotel vest, I want time to slow down. To let me take this in.
It doesn’t matter if I’m not as beautiful as Brooklyn, or as business savvy as Ilsa, or as powerful as Havannah.
I can work hard. I can love hard.
I can reach for what I want.
And get it.
Sebastian moves close, his arm around me. “I knew you could do it.”
“You already knew I had done it!”
He kisses my hair. “Toughest secret I had to keep.”
I finger the pin. “How many weeks ago did you order these?”
“Two.”
“Sebastian!”
“It was hard.”
“I guess we’re legit. No more gap in the chain of command.”
He leans in close to my ear. “Exactly.”
I shake hands with several staff members before we get another break.
Then he leans in again. “I’ve already reconfigured your ID. Meet me in the secret suite in ten minutes?”
I glance around to make sure nobody overheard him.
Then I whisper back, “Make it five.”