memory. As if she needed any more of those.
With a calming inhalation of breath, she sank to the carpeted floor. She would meditate until the whole interaction with the wayward St. Nick was nothing more than a mere ghost of a thought in her head. Relaxing all her muscles, she began to count down from ten. Then she did nothing but clear her mind.
It wasn’t easy.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Celeste had no idea how much time had passed before the annoying knocking roused her out of her deep state of meditative trance. Was it too much to ask for just some calming time after the morning she’d had? Apparently, this day was just going to be one irritation after another.
“Room service,” came a soft, feminine voice from the other side of her door.
It took a moment to reorient as Celeste forced herself to stand from her cross-legged sitting position on the floor. Her leg muscles screamed in protest at the abrupt movement as she walked to the door.
“There’s been some kind of mistake,” she said to the petite uniformed woman standing outside with a cart. “I haven’t ordered any room service.”
The woman smiled as she shook her head. “This is on the house, madam.” Without waiting for acknowledgment, she wheeled the cart toward the center of the room.
“I don’t understand?”
The woman’s smile didn’t falter as she answered. “No charge, madam. Compliments of the resort.” She handed her an envelope that had sat in the middle of the tray. With that, she pivoted on her heel and left the room.
Celeste blinked in confusion at the shut door before understanding dawned. Sure enough, when she read the note, her suspicion was confirmed.
Please accept this complimentary gesture as a token of appreciation and regret that you may have been inconvenienced in any way this morning.
Sincerely, The Baja Majestic Resort.
Someone in upper management must have witnessed the unpleasantness between her and Santa earlier this morning. She studied the goodies before her on the food service cart. They’d certainly made an effort to appease her. A silver carafe of steaming hot coffee sat in the center of the tray. A chilled bottle of champagne sent a curl of frost into the air. Orange juice and a variety of pastries rounded out the offerings. Not bad at all as a conciliatory gesture. Someone was trying hard to make things up to her. A foolish part of her felt guilty that perhaps bad Santa might have been chastised harshly by his superiors. Or even worse, that he’d been fired.
He may have been an overbearing clod, but he didn’t deserve to have his livelihood jeopardized. She would have to look into that. The desk attendant in the concierge lounge would surely know exactly what had transpired and the ultimate outcome that had led to the enticing cart she’d just had delivered. A visit later this afternoon wouldn’t hurt. If he had been let go, it was probably not too late for her to intervene. Not that he deserved her good will. Still, she would be the bigger person if needed.
It was a role she’d been well groomed for her whole life, after all.
“ONE OF THE guests would like to see you, mi paadie.”
Reid looked up from the spreadsheet he’d been studying to the man who had just entered his office without knocking. Alex was co-owner of the property and Reid felt grateful every day for that fact. He wasn’t sure what he would have done without the other man’s intimate knowledge of the island and its customs. Not to mention his sharp head for business.
Though Alex definitely had one flaw: a clear aversion to knocking before entering a closed door. Not that Reid had been doing much in the way of concentrating just now. A set of light hazel eyes and tumbling dark hair had interrupted his thoughts unwanted and unbidden throughout the morning. He wondered if she’d liked the tray of goodies he’d had sent to her room. Would she find it all an adequate apology? Or had she huffed in disgust and pushed the tray aside. He suspected the latter. Not that he could really blame her if she had.
“And hello to you too, Alex,” he answered his partner without looking away from the screen he hadn’t really been focusing on.
“Did you hear what I said, man?”
He nodded. “It appears I’m being summoned by one of the guests, is that it?”
Alex smiled at him. “You wanted to be hands-on, did you not? She’s asking for you specifically.”
Wasn’t it enough that he’d been commandeered into playing Santa this morning when the actor originally hired to play the part had called in sick? The entertainment manager had run to him in a panic. No one else was available to do it. And the resort had announced the event weeks in advance. In the end it was easier just to don the suit and get the whole fiasco over with.
Only he’d come face-to-face with a woman he hadn’t ever expected to see again.
Now he apparently had to go smooth the ruffles of a guest who no doubt felt slighted somehow or was trying to finagle a room upgrade.
“I tried to take care of it myself. Explained to her that I was co-owner of the resort. But like I said, the guest insists on seeing you specifically.”
Reid sighed and stood. The guest in question had to be one of those checking in this morning who he’d greeted. Apparently, they’d taken it to heart when he’d said that he’d personally see to any detail regarding their stay that they weren’t completely happy with. Though why Alex hadn’t just taken care of it by partially crediting the guest or explaining that they were at full capacity and had no upgrade to give out was lost on him.
Again, it was probably best to simply go get it over with. It was just clearly going to be one of those days.
Celeste shook her head and tried to blink away the image she was sure she had to be imagining. But when she opened her eyes again, the unwanted vision stood clear as day in front of her still.
This couldn’t be happening. “You’re the nasty Santa?”
Her words came out harsher and louder than she’d intended. Every eye currently in the concierge lounge turned to stare at her. She distinctly heard a giggle of feminine laughter from behind her somewhere.
To his credit, Reid Evanson looked as shocked as she was at the unexpected turn. Suddenly, the events of the morning seemed to make much more sense. She definitely hadn’t been imagining the waves of dislike emanating from the man playing jolly ol’ St. Nick.
Well, the feeling went both ways.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
He thrust his hands into his pockets before answering. “You’re the one who asked for me.”
He
