for months and he wanted her to come up with all the answers on day one. And wait, hello, he was the flipping barman!
‘And what would you have done?’ she asked coolly. ‘You’d have been happy to pitch in making beds and cleaning bathrooms, would you?’
‘You should have knocked the whole elf thing on its head. It’s going to be used every time some kind of leverage is needed.’
‘Maybe I was being sensitive to local cultural beliefs.’
Alex snorted. ‘They were trying it on. Your first day.’
‘You don’t know that for sure,’ she said defensively.
‘Er, hello. Elves? Seriously?’ The stern expression on his face relaxed and she saw amusement dancing in his brown eyes.
‘Well they seemed quite serious about the dead mice,’ retorted Lucy.
‘Mmm,’ admitted Alex. ‘Sounds like you might have a practical joker with a rather warped sense of humour on the staff.’
Lucy hoped not, she had enough on a plate without having to contend with that as well.
‘He’s very cute,’ observed Hekla, showing Lucy into the guest lounge she’d glimpsed briefly last night.
‘Who?’ asked Lucy, pretending she didn’t know who was being referred to.
‘Alex. The barman. Very cute.’
‘Mmm,’ responded Lucy, with a non-committal twist of her lips. ‘I hadn’t noticed. How long’s he been here?’
Hekla gave her a startled look but Lucy lifted her chin with the regal tilt she was known for … rewind … had been known for. Once upon a time, her reputation for being a boss you wouldn’t mess with preceded her.
‘Only two weeks. I don’t think he plans on staying long either. I think he’s just passing through.’
Lucy had met plenty of people like Alex in her career. Always on the move, travelling around the world. The hospitality industry relied on people like him.
‘Shame, because he’s very popular with the guests,’ said Hekla with a sly grin. ‘Perhaps you could persuade him to stay longer.’
Lucy shot her a quelling look as if to say ‘you’ve got the wrong person here’.
OK, so you couldn’t miss how cute Alex was, in fact he probably had the monopoly on cuteness with those warm brown eyes and the super cute crinkles around them. Lucy was driven not blind, but for the next two months her focus was going to be on being the very best manager The Northern Lights Lodge had ever had, so that Mr Pedersen would be begging her to stay and she was not going to be noticing anyone no matter how … ‘Oh, Oh, Oh!’
Her thoughts were brought to abrupt standstill by the spectacular view showcased by a run of floor-to-ceiling windows which took up one entire wall of the room.
‘Wow,’ she breathed, crossing to the window. ‘This is…’ Directly below was a steep drop and it felt as she were in mid-air. Some clever architect had designed the building to maximise the views and the contours of the hillside. Away to the right the rugged coastline snaked away disappearing behind a slender spit of land that poked out like a snake’s tongue, topped by a series of pillars of rocks that in this light looked like ancient rough-hewn chess pieces. To the left, folds of crag-topped hills filled the skyline each getting bigger and bigger until they finished in a majestic snow-capped peak. No wonder people believed in elves and trolls and other mystical creatures. There was definitely a Lord of the Rings sense of sorcery about the landscape. It was easy to imagine cloaked horseback riders racing across the meadows down by the sea. With that longish dark hair, Alex had a bit of the mysterious Aragorn about him.
And where the heck had that thought popped up from? Focus, Lucy. Last night’s northern light display had messed with her head, she decided.
‘We will have snow this week,’ said Hekla following Lucy to the window as they looked out at the heavy white clouds which were broken up by patches of blue that allowed sunbeams to dance across the sea making the waves glisten and sparkle.
Lucy turned back to survey the room, frowning slightly, her eyes scanning the polished wood floors and colourful rugs and the high beams criss-crossing the apex of the roof. The stylish sofas with their beech legs and deep teal blue upholstery were the same ones she’d seen on the hotel’s website, along with the numerous lamps casting a soft light in the room. But something was missing. It took her a second to work it out. Where were the cosy throws and inviting cushions? What had happened to the books and carved sea-birds arranged on the low open shelves? Perhaps the previous management had brought them in as window dressing for the photo shoot…
‘I think we should get some throws and cushions to put in here,’ she said, wishing she’d thought to grab a notepad and pen from the office. ‘You know, more hygge?’ Back in Bath, Daisy had been obsessed with the Danish way of keeping cosy and had a fine collection of soft furnishings as well as a special pottery mug for the expensive China tea she treated herself too.
Hekla’s face brightened. ‘We have huggulegt here in Iceland.’ She turned a slow circle in the room. Then she frowned. ‘There were some,’ she rubbed her fingers together and then stroked the fabric on the sofa, ‘very luxurious cushions.’
‘Velvet,’ suggested Lucy, remembering the jewel bright colours from the pictures.
‘Ja, that’s right. Lots of velvet cushions and colourful throws. I don’t know what happened to them.’
‘Oh, this is lovely,’ said Lucy, distracted by the beautiful shine of the burnished chestnut wood of semi-circular bar in the next room. A young man glanced up from his task of putting away glasses on the shelves suspended above the bar. Behind him on the stone wall, stylish shelves of varying lengths were offset at different points and on each one bottles were arranged in attractive groups, interspersed with little pots of herbs in polished brass planters that glowed in the subdued lighting.
‘This is Dagur. Dagur, this Lucy, our new manager.’
‘Hi, welcome,’ he said, a quick, easy smile lighting up his pale blue eyes as he gave her a brief salute, making her drop the hand she’d been about to offer. It seemed that things here were a lot more casual and less formal than she’d been used to in her previous hotels, not that that was a bad thing.
After a brief exchange, Hekla and Lucy moved on again, skirting through reception down to a cleverly designed glass corridor that linked the main hotel area to another building. Somehow the ultra-modern glass construction, bridging the separate buildings, could have been transplanted from a skyscraper in Manhattan and should have been totally out of place, but worked surprisingly well in the rural landscape.
‘And this is the library,’ said Hekla, coming to a halt in the centre of the room.
‘A library,’ said Lucy, turning a slow three hundred and sixty degrees, her neck tipped backwards as she looked up at the rather grand high-ceilinged room with a balcony all around the top housing shelf upon shelf of books. She looked again, her face breaking
