Bar Guy scurries away from the machine to the glass display with croissants and muffins next to it. He takes out an uncut pastry and places it on the wooden board on his side of the counter. It’s right across from me.
“This is a blueberry and lemon-flaked cream cheese pastry. It’s a new recipe.” He grabs a nearby serrated knife and carefully begins cutting.
His forearm muscles ripple with the motion, too prominent and sculpted to be the result of just kitchen work. I wonder again if he exercises. Letting my eyes roam his form, I look for the telltales. His uniform makes it impossible to tell how fit he is, but if I had to guess, and judging by his arms, he must have a lot more luck retaining muscle than I do.
“Is that a good idea? Feeding one of your hotel’s VIP guests something you haven’t served before?” I challenge, arching an eyebrow.
He hums, flashing me a sly smile. “Oh, so you are a VIP guest? Even better. You get to try something that will blow your mind before anyone else.”
I stifle a snort. Is he flirting with me or is he just the cocky type? It’s a little hard to say.
“What’s your name?” I ask, not taking my eyes off him as he plates the pastry and retrieves the now full cup of coffee.
He sets both in front of me and leans back against the cupboards behind him. His curly mop of hair bobs with the motion. It’s a little messy, but not in a bad way. It looks fluffy too and I bet it feels soft to the touch. My fingers suddenly itch to run through it and find out.
“I’m Jake,” he says, narrowing his eyes knowingly. A tremor rushes down my spine as his smile grows and lifts the right corner of his full lips a little higher. “And who are you, Mr. VIP Guest?” When I don’t reply immediately, he grabs a few napkins and places them along with a knife and a fork next to my plate. “Or is a mere chef-in-training not allowed to ask?”
I’m fighting off another silly noise. What nonsense is he saying? He’s strange. Maybe a little ridiculous even. But it’s kind of fun, I suppose.
“I’m Ethan,” I say, offering him my hand. “Ward Security.”
We shake hands. His hold is firm but gentle. His fingers have calluses and cuts unlike my smooth ones. I guess it makes sense for a chef.
“Oh, yeah. I know about you,” he says when we let go. Grabbing a cloth, he begins polishing the glasses sitting on the tray by the drawer with the cutlery. “You are here for some meeting. But I heard the other party couldn’t make it because of the snow.”
As if I needed a reminder. “Yes. Unfortunately, the meeting has been postponed until the situation is resolved.” I also can’t really do work even if I have my laptop as most of my responsibilities involve meeting with potential clients or partners in person to negotiate deals.
“That must suck. But, hey, look on the bright side.” He spreads his arms wide. “You are here already, so you might as well enjoy your improvised holiday. The hotel’s Christmas Program is one of the best in the whole country.”
Yeah, no, I don’t think so. I’m sure I’ll find a way to get some work done even if that seems unlikely right now. I’m nothing if not persistent.
“I’ll think about it,” I say out of politeness and take a bite from the pastry.
My eyes go a little wide. It’s really good. The mix of sweetness and the tang from the lemon and blueberry tickle my taste buds. Add to that the bitterness of the coffee and the boost the caffeine gives me, and I’m suddenly feeling invigorated.
My gaze meets that of Jake, who’s retreated back a bit to give me some privacy. He smiles openly, and just like that I know he knows his pastry has hit the mark.
“Enjoy,” he mouths and winks at me, before picking up the tray of polished glasses and disappearing into the kitchen.
I nurse my coffee slowly, enjoying the rich flavor. Another guy replaces Jake at the bar. He’s more reserved, smiling politely when he tidies away my plate and cup. I don’t linger.
After a quick call to my PA, Jenny, I go back to my room. All my appointments for this week have been rescheduled by the time I turn my laptop on. Jenny has even postponed the few calls that I had. I frown at the screen, then glance out the window at the smoke coming from the chimneys of the village houses down the hill. This really feels like an impromptu holiday.
The only problem?
I’m not exactly sure what to do with all this free time. But I have to figure something out or I’m sure I’ll go crazy.
The first thing that comes to mind is the suite’s jacuzzi. I’m a little underdressed since I didn’t pack, so it’s a great way to warm up. Long bath ticked off my holiday agenda, I turn on the TV. Everything is Christmas reruns or musicals, so five minutes later I’m back down at the hotel lobby, sitting with my head in my palms and wondering what the fuck I am going to do for an entire week.
I eye the cup of instant coffee I made at my suite and took with me. It’s only been a few hours since I got stuck here, but I’m already buzzing. I need something to do, some crisis to solve or some deal to make. I’m so desperate I even call Jenny again, demanding she gives me something to do.
“Not happening, Ethan. I was trying to figure out how to force you to take some time off, so this is perfect! I contacted Edmonton and the nearby towns. They said that with the current weather, the earliest they can get the roads cleared or a helicopter in the air is a couple of days. So, put on a Christmas sweater and enjoy the festivities. I’ve emailed you all the activities you can do at the hotel and the village. Have fun. I’ll see you in a week. Bye,” she says in her chirpy voice and hangs up.
I groan. Excellent. This is just what I needed. I’m begging my PA for some work, and she doesn’t want to give me any. Someone please save me. Like, seriously. What do I even do with so much free time?
Coffee cup in hand, I lean into the leather armchair I’ve claimed in the lobby and watch the other hotel guests as they meander about. There are families with noisy kids, but also couples and those who have come alone. Everyone sort of blends together, dull and unimpressive, like the non-player-controlled characters in the video games Charlie plays. They are there, but they are part of the environment. Still, even though they are stuck here like me and despite not being particularly attention-grabbing, they all look like they are having a good time.
Sighing, I try to remember some of the stuff I enjoyed doing before I took over the company from dad. I’m sure there were a few things, even if I’m currently drawing a blank. I just need to find out what they were.
