and if there was ever a person who embodied a ‘belly full of jelly’ it was this head of maintenance.
“I think we’ll get along just fine.” He sighed and downed the rest of his red drink, winking at both Noelle and me.
“Oh, wonderful!” The worried green that took over Noelle’s face dissipated.
“I’ve been here since before the Fairmont started the gingerbread tradition, and I’ve worked with all the chefs since it began. I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with this year.”
“Well, don’t get your hopes up on those fireworks,” I replied with a warm smile. “I’m excited to tackle the project.”
“Oh, it’s more than a project, Miss Jolly,” he scolded, taking a long gulp of the red drink in his hand. “It’s the spirit—the heart of this hotel during the holidays. People come from all over the world to experience our gingerbread house. And it takes someone with a special kind of holiday spirit to create something that magical for them.” He tipped his head, the white tuft on his Santa hat drooping forward and hitting him in his large nose when he looked back up.
Oh, no.
It was just a pastry—but before I could blurt that out, I brought my cup to my lips and nodded as I swallowed, losing track of any acceptable response to such a lofty expectation. It was going to be a darn impressive pastry—but it was still only a pastry.
And having made plenty of those in all shapes, sizes, and flavors, I could say with confidence, there was nothing magical about them.
The only thing magical about Christmas was how easily people got wrapped up in the flashiness of it all. In fact, I’d go so far as to say there was no such thing as the magic of Christmas, only the mirage.
One I’d been fooled by and failed by too many times.
Except I didn’t say anything because this was my job and these were my coworkers for the next three weeks, and I wasn’t about to burn bridges on my very first day.
Any more bridges…
“Oh, look! There’s Mr. Nicholsen—perfect! We’ll see you later, Roberto,” Noelle chimed in blithely and led me around the maintenance crew that stood like Christmas dwarves, drinking and cheering each other. “Okay, Holly—oh my Christmas! You don’t have your hat on!”
She stopped in front of me, and I barely pulled back in time to keep the plastic-wrapped Santa hat safely tucked under my arm.
“I was just going to wait a few more minutes before wearing it,” I pleaded weakly. “It’s pretty full in here and I’m afraid the felt will make me too hot.”
Her mouth formed a distinct ‘o’ before her head bobbed faster than a bobble-head. “No worries. Let’s get you over to meet the man,” she teased with a wink. “I think the hats were a genius idea on his part, you know, after the whole Santa incident.”
“How does everyone know about that? I can’t believe all these people were in the lobby to see me fall,” I grumbled.
“Oh, Holly.” She giggled. “This place is like a giant family…word spreads fast. You’ll see…”
My throat tightened. I knew what she meant only because I’d learned over time what family was supposed to be, not because my own had given me first-hand experience.
“So, Mr. Nicholsen loves Christmas, and boy, does it show—in fact, the life-size gingerbread house was his original idea,” she murmured close to my ear. “He gets involved with everything the hotel does for the holiday—I swear, I don’t think he has time to celebrate for himself. The gingerbread house. The decorations. The tree. Santacon.” She sighed dreamily, and I fought not to roll my eyes. “Okay, he’s right over here.”
She led me toward another group of people, one of them a tall, well-built man with his back facing me. Blonde hair peeking out along his neck underneath the white fur of his matching Santa hat.
On the next step, it hit me that the shade of that blonde hair looked familiar. Step. So did the width of those shoulders. Step. So did the color of his suit.
Oh no.
Mr. Nicholsen—my new boss—turned as Noelle gleefully drew his attention.
The crowd of people around us fell away as the perfectly-proportioned face of the man from the lobby earlier came into view, those blue eyes locking on mine with a not-so-subtle twinkle in his eyes and devious smirk on his lips.
Every inch of me tingled from my head to my toes.
“Miss Jolly.” That familiar voice. “It’s a pleasure to officially