a giant Buddha, it’s all just baking and crafting and food. I don’t need to subscribe to the beliefs to be able to do my job.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t disagree. But it just seems strange to pick this one out of them all.”
“Because of my name?” I rolled my eyes.
“Because you aren’t a Hanukkah hater or a Buddha protestor. You’re a Grinch, and you’re here to build a Christmas miracle.” He brought his cup to his mouth, taking a slow sip of the rich, red liquid that left a faint film along the curve of his upper lip.
I wanted to respond. My lips even parted to let free some sort of rational retort. But the words jumbled on my tongue, wanting to lick him clean rather than shut him down.
“It’s just a professional goal,” I finally managed. “That’s all.”
He hummed with a subtle nod. “Well, then we might have a problem, Miss Jolly.”
My gaze narrowed, and my words sparked with anger and shock. “You can’t fire me for not liking Christmas, Mr. Nicholsen.”
“Of course not,” he agreed. “But I do have certain requirements of the staff during this time—for the holidays, Miss Jolly.” He gave me a knowing look. “And I can fire you for not meeting those requirements.”
I felt the heat of his gaze right down to my toes,
The blood drained from my face as I bit out, “And what would those be?”
“The Fairmont is an icon in this city, Miss Jolly. But during this time of year, it’s more than that. It’s a symbol of the season, and it’s my job to preserve that,” he began. “It’s why we decorate. It’s why we have the gingerbread house. It’s why we put up a real tree in the lobby and decorate it. It’s why we participate in Santacon. And it’s why we dress up and sing carols and go the extra mile.”
If I hadn’t been conditioned for almost thirty years to turn my back on everything red, green, and covered in Christmas, I would’ve caved at the heavy pride of honorable duty conveyed both by his tone and his words.
It was admirable, I had to admit.
Many times, I wasn’t impressed with holiday efforts because, to me, they were mostly fake. Just one more ploy to get people to buy this thing or that. To make a sale. To spend money they didn’t have. Most times, it was nothing more than greed wrapped up in the pretty bows of Christian ideals to disguise the true meaning. And that left a bad taste in my mouth—something that was pretty hard to do when it was my job to make and taste delicious treats.
But Saint—Mr. Nicholsen—he wasn’t wrapping anything but the truth. What he did here—what the hotel did—it was something special to him and to the city, and if I were the kind of person capable of believing in special things, I might’ve believed him.
But I wasn’t.
Because this holiday held no magic for me. Only misery.
“Especially during Christmastime, the Fairmont is more than a hotel, and the people working here need to be more than just employees,” he went on, and my throat tightened when the hue of his eyes deepened into something more serious. “They need to be part of the spirit to make this place feel like home, not just for those guests staying with us, but for everyone who walks in those doors because this might be the only holiday experience they have.”
“I understand.” And I did. For the employees who were people-facing. But that wasn’t me. “But I’m just a pastry chef.”
“If I wanted just a pastry chef, Miss Jolly, I could’ve gotten anyone.” I shivered, knowing it was wrong to enjoy the feeling of being someone more than anyone—the feeling of being someone special. “I need someone who is driven to create something magical—a festive focal point for everything we do here.”
I wanted to ask him why he picked me then. Aside from my skill, I’d never posted a single holiday dessert on any of my social pages. I never posted a single holiday thing. Period. But this time, I managed to hold my tongue.
“I can certainly do that,” I assured him, telling myself that the ends would justify the means.
“But I need more than the gingerbread house. I need you to be a part of the holiday team spirit.” He held his arms wide, indicating all the people dressed up in their hats and merrily chatting among themselves. “And that means participating in all