at anyone directly,” Patsy replied. “I think he just cooks with gusto.”
“Gusto,” Grace repeated, thinking of Nico’s enormous energy. She wondered if he ever slept—he always seemed to be in the lodge’s kitchen.
“He loves weddings,” Patsy reminded her. “The bigger the better, he says.”
“Well, everything has been paid for. The bride understood it was too late for refunds. Flowers, food, music, cake, everything. I hate to think of it going to waste.”
“There’s always the food bank. We’ve done that before with leftovers.”
“I’ll make some phone calls in the morning,” Grace said, wondering if anyone would want ruby-red wedding decorations with pinecone placeholders and fairy lights.
“Ask Brian or one of the interns to take these boxes to the back room. Don’t do it yourself.” Patsy looked at her watch. “I’d better get back to the desk. I said I’d help Noelle with the tour group’s arrival at one o’clock.”
“But they’re only here overnight, is that right?”
“Yes. A quick in and out—a celebratory dinner, a sleigh ride to the cabin, and then they’re on to Boston in the morning after a leisurely brunch. Nico has planned some kind of decadent French toast for them.” She mock shuddered. “The man’s food is so good just the thought of it gives me chills.”
Grace eyed the half of a protein bar she was saving for a late-afternoon snack. It sat on her desk next to her now empty coffee cup, mocking her and her perpetual diet, daring her to throw it in the trash. “Eating his food would make me gain ten pounds in one day.”
“It wouldn’t show,” Patsy responded loyally, but Grace knew better. At five feet two inches tall, she had to watch every calorie in order to fit into her clothes, like the size eight petite red sheath dress she’d worn to match the lodge’s decorations today. Tomorrow she thought an ivory sweater and matching pencil skirt with dark gold suede boots would be appropriate, especially for the staff’s Secret Santa breakfast. She planned to wear her new dark burgundy lace dress for Christmas Eve. Grace believed that blending in, looking as if she belonged to the lodge, was a necessary part of her job.
“Keep me posted on the wedding,” Patsy said, heading toward the door. “If there’s anything I can do—”
“I’ll let you know,” Grace promised. But she didn’t intend to keep her friend away from her busy family and excited grandchildren during the holidays, no matter how many events were canceled. Patsy had already volunteered to work the desk on Christmas Eve so Noelle, who had a young son, could take the day off.
It wouldn’t last forever.
Five more days until Christmas craziness was behind her.
Grace Clarke eyed the oversize calendar on her glass-topped desk and took a deep breath. She stayed organized using cell phone reminders and sticky notes, but she relied on her old-fashioned paper calendar to help her keep track of the Big Picture.
And the Big Picture had just shrunk.
Today was Monday, December 21. Yesterday Grace had overseen an intimate wedding between two eighty-year-olds and their immediate families, a Christmas party for the local chamber of commerce and a special family dinner for the resident bride and groom and their families.
The dinner was to have kicked off the wedding festivities, which would culminate in a Christmas Eve ceremony for a couple who appeared to be made for each other. The bride had been cooperative throughout the entire year they’d spent making arrangements and, despite some strange behavior during a dress fitting yesterday, she’d been a joy to work with. The groom, a physician, had been agreeable and patient.
In other words, he’d behaved the way a perfect groom should.
Until he’d been dumped.
Grace empathized.
She consulted her agenda on the iPad. She needed to make sure that the twenty-six people from the tour bus would be seated in the dining room for dinner at five thirty. Their sleigh rides had been confirmed for eight o’clock, with a return between eleven and twelve. There were the shuttle buses to Santa’s Village to oversee—the guests’ children loved that particular tradition. She’d had some luck helping the manager of the Village fill a Santa vacancy for tomorrow—one of the wedding guests turned out to be familiar with the role. The much-anticipated and very casual staff party would be held tomorrow morning, but she had nothing left to do for that event.
As far as she knew, the lodge was full, though Grace was pretty sure the groom and his family would be leaving the hotel and heading home. She made a note to check with Patsy on that. The maid of honor had arrived today, so either she hadn’t known about the cancellation of the wedding or she was here to support the bride. Or maybe she loved to ski. After all, the bride and her mother had decided to stay for a few days and turn the visit into a vacation.
A vacation without lace, flowers, rings or promises of enduring love.
Grace couldn’t understand it, but what Julie Barrett did or did not do was her own business. It was up to Grace to pick up the pieces.
She stalled for another two hours, making phone calls and going over the week’s events. Finally she emerged from her office, which was conveniently tucked along a hallway next to the front desk in the main building. The double-door entrance facing the lake was decorated with the customary greenery and white lights. Each wreath was adorned with a red velvet bow and a set of tiny dangling sleigh bells. Patsy had Perry Como crooning through the stereo system.
“I will get even,” she murmured as she passed the front desk where Patsy and Noelle huddled over the computer monitor. “I just downloaded ‘Boogie Woogie Santa Claus’ from Amazon.”
“Bring it on,” Patsy said. “You can’t possibly compete. I have forty-seven easy-listening Christmas albums on my iPod, including Elvis.”
“Kill me now.”
Noelle looked up and smiled. “I heard that Nico loves Andrea Bocelli.”
“Gosh, really?” Grace feigned surprise, which made both women grin, and she headed up the polished wooden stairs to the restaurant. She loved the lodge, with its elegant white exterior and porches, stone fireplaces and pine walls. She loved the views of the lake, piles of snow framing ice perfect for skating, and the Oriental rugs on the polished wooden floors.
She did not love Christmas, not this year. This year it was merely a holiday to be endured. Her father was on a cruise with his latest fiancée and Grace’s only other relative, Aunt Ellen, was in Arizona with her daughter’s family and a new grandchild. It wasn’t the holiday she’d envisioned eighteen months ago when she’d been planning her own Christmas wedding, but she would make the best of it. On January 4, when the lodge’s many Christmas trees were stripped of their sparkly decorations and Patsy’s CDs were returned to the drawer labeled Boring Holiday Music, Grace would breathe a sigh of relief and look forward to a lovely, hectic ski season.
Grace stepped into the restaurant and waved to one of the waiters.
“He’s in the back,” the young man called out.
“Thanks, Tom.” She made her way past the elegant linen-covered tables and white chairs, the
