by Ali Parker
After I reviewed the plans and made a few comments, I forwarded it to Chase. I wanted him to feel confident everything was going to be just right. The decorations were stunning. I loved the color combination and had already checked on the progress in the ballroom. I had no doubt in my mind it would be the perfect combination of luxury and beauty.
“Hello,” Cori said, pushing open the door into our joint office.
I looked up and saw a petite woman behind her. The woman was pretty, with gorgeous blue eyes. She was dressed in what looked like a Chanel business suit. Very chic and very expensive. My first thought, she was a guest. I was going to have a talk with Cori about bringing guests to this part of the property.
“Hi,” I said, getting to my feet. I felt underdressed in my pantsuit.
“Harper, this is Angela Refe. She’s the journalist I told Parker about. Angela, this is Harper Lincoln, the director of marketing.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Angela said, stepping forward to shake my hand.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said with a smile. I wasn’t entirely sure why she was in my office, but I hoped to find out soon. I did marketing, not interviews and publicity.
“Angela wanted to talk to you about the launch and stuff.”
“Oh?”
“It’s cool,” Cori said with a small laugh. She knew my reluctance to do public speaking of any kind. “It will be painless. She is doing a whole story on the grand opening, and part of that is all the work you did to make it as fabulous as it is.”
“I see,” I said, still a little reluctant.
“I saw the tree in the lobby,” Angela said. “Cori tells me that was all you and your art director. It is stunning. I think I will use it as the cover photo for the story.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m going to leave you two. I need to get back to the shop. We’ve sold out of a few things and I need to redo the shelves.”
“Congrats,” I told her.
“Thanks.”
After she left, Angela looked at me. “You don’t like this.”
“I’m sorry. I’m more of the girl behind the scenes. I always feel so foolish when I’m making official statements. I trip over myself.”
“Don’t worry. This is going to be more of a story, which means I take what you tell me and put it into flowery words. I’ll use some direct quotes, but I promise I won’t make you sound foolish.”
“Thank you.” I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves. “Where do we start?”
“First, I always find it helpful to find somewhere we can relax and chat,” she said with a smile.
“We could go into the lounge. I doubt it’s too busy this time of day.”
“That’s perfect.”
I was feeling much more at ease with her already. I liked her. I would still be careful because a journalist was still a journalist.
I locked up and led her to the lounge. It was relatively empty, minus the older bachelors and the harried dads looking for a little respite. We ordered club sodas and took a table away from the other people.
“All right, let’s first start with who you are, beyond your name,” she said, her pen at the ready and a little recorder sitting on the table between us.
“I’m a marketing professional,” I answered.
“You went to school?”
“Yes.”
She smiled. “How long have you been in Vail?”
“I grew up in the Boulder area.”
“Did you recently graduate?”
“No, I worked at a department store in Boulder for several years before I was offered this job,” I answered, skipping over the part about me getting fired.
“Oh, interesting. Cori said you two were old friends. Is that how you got the job?”
“We are old friends,” I answered. “I guess knowing her and Chase did get my foot in the door.”
“Hey, old contacts are the best way to get ahead.”
I wasn’t sure I liked what she was implying, but I kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t going to say anything that might piss her off and give her a reason to write something shitty about me. “I suppose they are,” I said with a tight smile.
“Tell me more about your idea to do a themed opening. Isn’t that risky?”
“Risky?”
“You could alienate a select group of people.”
I shrugged. “I suppose you run that risk no matter what you do. I think our goal from the start was to give guests a luxurious experience that was focused on the season. They are coming here to ski or get away from their daily routines. I wanted to add a little fantasy to their stay.”
“I think it’s an amazing idea.”
“Thank you.”
“Can you tell me about the concierge service?”
Another deep breath. “The idea is to keep the fantasy going. I didn’t want it to end when the guests left the lobby. I wanted it to be an immersive experience. They get the personal service of Santa Claus.”
“What do the Santas do?”
I smiled, thinking about the first day. “They deliver room-service orders, they pose for pictures if asked, and they act as a liaison between guests and the many additional services the resort offers. They can order taxis or limos for the guests. They deliver dry cleaning and will even read children a bedtime story if that is what is requested of them.”
“I can’t imagine the confusion it must bring,” she said.
“Every Santa has a room assignment. Depending on the workload, a Santa might cover two rooms. The Santa has a phone with an app that alerts them to any requests from their guests. They get right on it. It’s really not all that different from a usual concierge service. The difference is we have numerous concierges which gives the guests a very personal service. They don’t have to wait.”
“I’m really intrigued by this.”
“Would you like to see it in action?”
“I would. Can we?”
“Absolutely. We’ll need to stay out of the way, but we can peek in and see how things are going today.”
We left the lounge and crossed the lobby where a few of the concierges were with their assigned room guests. Thankfully, there were a lot of smiles and no complaints. I took her up to the second floor where it looked like lunch was being delivered to a few of the rooms.
“Do guests ever ask their Santa to do anything crazy?”
I smiled, debating how much to tell her. “We’ve had guests want massages from their Santa in full gear. They really wanted their concierge to do it all. We also had a little boy that wanted Santa to sleep with him because he was afraid.”
She burst into laughter. “Hello, lawsuit.”
“Exactly. The child accepted a complimentary stuffed Santa from the gift shop instead.”
“They really do it all, don’t they?” she asked as we watched a Santa deliver a bag of food from McDonald’s.
“They do. We want the guests to be spoiled.”
“What about the usual stuff?” she asked.
“Like?”
“Do the Santas pose for pictures? Do the kids get to sit on Santa’s knee?”
“Yes. The guests can choose to get pictures in our photo sets downstairs with their Santa or the one that is already there for guests who have opted out of the concierge service.”
“Oh, not everyone has to have a Santa?”
“No, it’s their choice.”
“Is there an additional charge?”
“Not at this time but I’m not involved with that,” I said, passing the buck on that one.
“Can I see the sets?”
I smiled, thrilled she wanted to see what I was certain were masterpieces. “Absolutely. These sets will also be included with parties and events that are held in the ballroom.”
I needed to plug the event side of things as much as I could. That was where the bread and butter was going to be while Chase ate the cost of the Santas.
I showed her into the set area.
&nb
sp; “Oh my god,” she gasped when we walked into the wonderland scene. “This is incredible.”
“Thank you. Through here, we have a more traditional setup. This is where there are a lot of whispered wishes into Santa’s ear.”
We walked into the next set, where a young family was getting their pictures done. The little boy and girl were wearing gorgeous outfits and they both looked absolutely thrilled. We watched the session for a few minutes without speaking to avoid distracting the kids. When we walked out, Angela was beaming.
“This is pretty impressive and so much better than the usual Santa experience. Does every family get a private sitting or is it just because no one else is there right now?”
“Nope, all private. We don’t want to make the kids uncomfortable. Families reserve a time. Right now, we are offering up to thirty minutes. If things get busier, we’ll need to cut that time down a little. We don’t want the kids to feel like cattle being herded through. We want them to enjoy the experience.”
“It’s a great idea,” she commented as we walked back into the lobby.
My eyes immediately went to Chase. He was talking to some of the staff. I would never get tired of looking at him. I didn’t look at him as much as I wanted to because I was afraid he would catch me, and it would lead to him getting the wrong idea.
“Isn’t that Chase Adams?” Angela asked.
“It is.”
“What’s he like to work for?”
“Great. Really, really great. He listens to my ideas. He listens to all the experts he hired to help him launch this resort. He’s patient and kind. He’s generous and treats his employees really well. He sees when someone is getting a little stressed and gently gets them to step back. He doesn’t push. He asks what he can do to help. He isn’t one of those bosses who sits in his office and demands results. He works alongside his people to help push the results he wants. He is a really great guy to work for.”
Angela was smiling and jotting things down on her little notepad. “He sounds like a great boss,” she said with a funny smile.
I wanted Chase to get the praise he was due. He was a great boss. I wanted that to be included in the piece she was writing. I wanted his father to see how well he turned out. Chase inspired loyalty and I had a feeling the staff he hired would be around for years, only making the place better.
He turned and saw us, smiling and waving when we he noticed us looking at him. Dammit. He really was a handsome, good man. Why couldn’t I get over the past? I wanted so badly to pretend it never happened, but it wouldn’t go away.
I couldn’t forget that pain. I couldn’t forget the sadness he’d caused me when he left me behind and started an entirely new life.
We had made plans. Real plans. He acted as if none of it mattered.
That was the part I couldn’t get over.
Chapter 31
Chase
I had a serious case of blue balls with no relief in sight. I wanted her. I wanted her, and I was certain she wanted me, but she was being too damn stubborn. Why? Why wouldn’t she just give in when we were so good together?
I couldn’t seem to make any headway with her. The lunch had been a waste of time. It got me no closer to getting her back in my life. I didn’t know where I was going wrong.
Well, I knew where I had gone wrong but that was a long time ago. There was no going back in time and fixing what she thought I broke. I had to find a way to make her forget about all of it. That was proving harder than I initially thought it would be.
She was dead set on keeping things professional. I understood why she wanted to keep it that way in the beginning, but I was pretty sure we had proved we could mix business with pleasure and still come out okay. I was sure we worked better together because of our personal relationship.
I was willing to do just about anything to prove to her I was a good man for her. I wanted her to believe I was the right man for her. I could love and cherish her and treat her right. She would never want for anything. I could take her anywhere she wanted to go. I could buy her anything she wanted. I could be enough. I needed to figure out how to make her believe that.
I was hoping I would have a chance to do that at the Winter Wonderland party. Then again, nothing else had worked. I might be setting my sights a little too high. It was one night. There was not a lot of romance involved in going to a corporate party.
I was spending way too much time thinking about her and how to get her back in my bed and in my life. I left my office, feeling like a little boy who wasn’t getting the new toy he wanted for Christmas. I dragged my feet as I made my way back to the lobby. I looked around, pleased to see all the smiling faces and the usual crowd in front of the tree. There were flashes going off as newly arriving guests excitedly took pictures of all the decorations. That was what I liked to see.
“Chase,” someone said.
I looked toward the front door and saw Nick strolling in. “What brings you by here?” I asked.
He looked at me and leaned back. “Damn, let’s get a drink.”
“It’s kind of early,” I answered.
“Man, I’m looking at your face and it says it’s five o’clock.”
I knew he was right. “Fine, I could use a drink.”
We headed for the lounge. I was relieved to see it was fairly empty. I didn’t want to give the impression the owner was a lush. We found a table, and instead of ordering my usual scotch, I ordered a draft beer. I needed a beer.
“What’s going on?” Nick asked. “The place looks great and I heard a lot of happy people.”
“Things are going great,” I told him.
“Then why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?”
“I’m screwed.”
“In which way? Financially? Personally?”
“Her. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t figure out how to move out of the boss zone. I’m stuck.”
He took a long drink from his beer. “You know, I think you are the only man that is trying to get out of the boss zone. You know there are some laws that say you can’t hook up with your employees. In fact, you can get your ass sued for trying to get into that zone.”
“It isn’t like that.”
“It is. She works for you. We are talking about the one that got away. The one you hired with the hopes of getting in her pants.”
“Stop talking about her like that. It isn’t like that.”
“It seems like it is like that. What did you think was going to happen?”
“I thought we would spend some time together and she would remember how good we were together. I thought she would want to come back to me. I thought she would want to pick up where we left off. We had a plan. We got a little waylaid and now we’re both in a position to get back to those plans we made. We are mature adults. We’re financially stable. We’re ready.”
“Are you saying you are actually serious about settling down with this woman?”
“Yes.”
“Why her?”
“Why not her? She’s perfect for me. We have history, good history. Yes, there was a little blip in our past, but the chemistry is still there. We still feel strongly for each other. Even if she is trying to deny it. In fact, she’s trying to use all those things against us getting back together.”
“Maybe she doesn’t feel that same chemistry.”
“Bullshit,” I snapped. “She does. I know she does. I can tell when she looks at me. I can see it in her eyes.”
“Are you sure you don’t think you see it? Maybe you’re seeing something that isn’t really there.”
I frowned at him. “That’s not true. It’s there. I just need to figure out how to make her accept it.”
“Have you tried talking to her? I heard that works.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not sure why I thought you would be of any actual help.”
“I’ve got some good ideas,” he argued. “What about the chocolates and flowers routine?”
“We’re beyon
d that.”
He nodded in agreement. “You’re right. This isn’t nineteen fifty and you are not the chocolate kind of man. Jewelry. You need to buy something shiny and big.”
“You might be on to something.”
“Don’t buy a ring. You’ll freak her out.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s going to think you’re proposing. I don’t see that ending well for you.”
“Why? I wouldn’t mind if she thought I was proposing.”
“No, no, no. You can’t propose yet. Hell, you can’t even get her to go on a date with you.”
“True,” I murmured. “What else? How about a bracelet?”
“A bracelet is a little too impersonal. That’s what a boss gives to his employee for Christmas.”
I rolled my eyes. “A necklace?”
He winced. “That’s what married men give their wives after years of marriage.”
“What other jewelry is there?” I asked, lifting my hands in the air.
“I don’t know.”
“Then why did you suggest it?”
“I thought it would give you some ideas.”
“Ideas you shot down,” I reminded him.
He held up a hand. “All right, all right. I know what you need to do.”
I groaned. “I don’t think I want to hear this. Why are you giving me advice on something you know nothing about?”
“You asked.”
“I don’t think I did. You were in the same clubs I was in. You were picking up women and doing the same things I was. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure, I do.”
“No, you don’t know.”
“Buddy, come on. Neither of us had any trouble getting women to go home with us.”
“I don’t want Harper to come home with me. I mean, I do but I want more than that. Those women wanted us for our money and our names. They didn’t give a shit who we were. I don’t want that anymore. It didn’t mean anything. Those days are in my past. I don’t want meaningless sex with a woman who doesn’t even know my name.”
He scoffed. “They all knew your name. That’s why they went home with you.”
