“He was brusque and bossy, so I didn’t really focus on what he looked like.”
“Bossy doesn’t have to be bad.” Charlie sighed dreamily. “The man is hot with a very large H. And rich?—”
“With an even larger R. I’ve got to run, Charlie.” I had better things to do than moon over a billionaire. Especially one who was giving me gray hairs.
“Bye.” The barista waved cheerily.
I hurried down the street. It was still early, and the boutiques and restaurants weren’t open yet. Even in summer, the businesses in Windward did a brisk trade. My aunt’s gift shop, The Nook, was one street over. She sold everything from locally-made candles and soaps, to artwork and jewelry made by local artisans.
I turned a corner, and my resort came into view. A little zing filled my chest like it did every time I set eyes on the place.
There was lots of natural stone, accented by dark wood and glass. The gabled roof continued along the long line of the building. I loved every inch of wood and stone. The resort logo—a stylized W made to look like snow-capped mountains—was engraved in brass by the large front doors. It always filled me with pride. The logo was also on the shiny Hotel Manager badge pinned to my shirt. I headed up the drive and jogged up the front steps.
“Good morning, Ms. Ashford.” A young valet smiled at me.
“Morning, Will.”
He held the door open for me, and I stepped inside.
The resort had a welcoming feel, but the view was the big winner here. The ceiling soared overhead, showing off wooden beams, but the gaze was immediately drawn straight to the huge, triangular bank of windows. Outside, the mountain was lush green.
Comfortable armchairs were grouped by the window, where guests could linger for a minute, or comfortably check in. My heels clicked on the wooden floor. We had a long reception desk covered in more stone, and fresh flowers in vases topped multiple surfaces. I stopped to rearrange some of them.
“Morning, Tessa.” One of the receptionists called out.
“Hi, Archie. Everything running smoothly?”
His head bobbed. “It was a quiet night, but we have a flurry of checkouts coming up. We had one man with chest pains. Dr. Ramirez came in to look at him. Apparently, it was indigestion.”
That beat out the other alternatives. I hated those rare occasions when we had to deal with a dead body. “Thanks.”
“Idiot shouldn’t have ordered the steak and baked potato for dinner.” Coral leaned on the receptionist desk.
The older woman had worked at the Windward since the dawn of time, was in a perennial bad mood, and had her own thoughts on how the hotel should be run. Her gray hair was in a ruthless bob around her wrinkled face.
“Morning, Coral.”
She sniffed, then turned back to the computers.
“Here you go.” Archie handed me one of the staff radios.
“Thanks.” I clipped it to my belt, then cocked my head. “What’s wrong with your tie?” It was askew.
He looked down. “Oh, no. The stitching is coming undone. I’ll have to fix it.” He tried to tuck the fraying edge of the tie out of view.
I strode over. “Don’t worry.” I unzipped the tiny leather pouch on my belt. It always rested on my hip—my emergency kit. I pulled out a safety pin and handed it to him. “Use this. That will do the trick for today.”
The young man smiled. “Thanks, Tessa.”
As Archie fixed his tie, I sipped my coffee and took in the stylish banners advertising the Mountain Masquerade. They showed a leaf-covered mask on rich navy blue, with the Windward Resort logo beside it.
Turning, I spotted another banner that had been set up by the reception desk.The Windward Mountain Resort is proud to be joining the Langston Hotels family.The fancy gold Langston Hotels logo sat proudly under the words.
“No, we’re not,” I muttered under my breath.
Then I spotted Everett, our head of maintenance, by the elevators, a toolbox at his feet. He had a panel in the wall open, and was wearing his usual uniform—jeans and a blue flannel shirt.
I hustled over. “Everett, please don’t tell me the elevator is out of order again. The masquerade is tomorrow.”