Nat knocked softly on the master suite door. "Ms. Holloway? I have your coffee and the ski trail information you requested."
There was a pause before Ms. Holloway's voice came through the door. "Leave it outside. I'll get it in a moment."
Nat bit her lip, torn between following the instruction and her ingrained sense of hospitality. "Are you sure? I'd be happy to go over the trail maps with you, point out some of the best runs-"
The door swung open abruptly, revealing Ms. Holloway. She'd removed her coat and was wearing jeans and a cream-colored cashmere sweater. "Ms. Bergman," she said, her tone glacial, "I thought I made myself clear downstairs. I'm here to ski and to be left alone. That means no small talk, no trail recommendations, and certainly no Christmas cheer.”
Nat felt her cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. "Understood, Ms. Holloway. My apologies.Here's your coffee and the trail information." She held out the tray, careful not to make eye contact.
Ms. Holloway took the tray. "Thank you," she said, her tone softening. "That will be all for now."
Before Nat could respond, the door closed in her face, and she stood there for a moment, stunned by the abrupt dismissal. What was she going to do now? Would Ms. Holloway want dinner later? She didn’t even dare ask.
Instead, she headed downstairs to remove the stockings and presents. This was going to be a very long two weeks.
Chapter Two
Natalie stood at the kitchen island, staring blankly at the array of ingredients spread out before her. The salmon filets she'd planned to serve as the main course for tonight's welcome dinner now seemed like an absurd extravagance for a party of one, so she began to wrap them up for the freezer.
"So much for my grand plans," she muttered, thinking of the elaborate menu she'd spent days perfecting. The Holloways were supposed to have been impressed by her culinary skills, maybe even raved about them to their wealthy friends. Now, those dreams of future bookings and generous tips were melting away faster than snow on a sunny day.
As she stored away the unused ingredients, Nat's mind drifted to Ms. Holloway. What kind of person rents out an entire luxury lodge just for themselves? And during Christmas, no less? The woman was an enigma, wrapped in designer clothes and a frosty demeanor.
Her phone buzzed with a text from her mother: "How are the Holloways settling in? Did the kids like the welcome cookies?"
"Everything's fine," Nat typed back. "But it’s a party for one. I’ll explain later. Love you."
She put her phone away and glanced at the clock. It was nearing dinnertime, and despite Ms. Holloway's earlier dismissal, Nat felt obligated to at least offer her guest some food. Taking a deep breath, she made her way upstairs and knocked softly on the master suite door.
"Ms. Holloway? I was wondering if you'd like me to prepare dinner for you this evening."
Silence stretched for what felt like an eternity before the door opened. Ms. Holloway stood there, looking slightly disheveled, as if she'd been napping. Her hair was tousled, and her sweater was wrinkled. For a brief moment, she looked almost... human.
"What time is it?" she asked, blinking as if trying to orient herself.
"Just past six, ma'am," Nat replied, trying to keep her tone neutral. "I usually serve dinner around seven, but I can adjust that to whatever time suits you best."
Ms. Holloway appeared to consider this for a moment. "Seven is fine," she said finally. "Something light. I'm not particularly hungry."
Nat was relieved to have at least some direction. "Of course. Any preferences or dietary restrictions I should be aware of?"
"No red meat," Ms. Holloway said. "And no dessert. I'll be down at seven." With that, she closed the door, leaving Nat alone in the hallway once again.
Back in the kitchen, Nat set about preparing a simple dinner for one. She decided on a grilled salmon steak with asparagus and a salad with a light vinaigrette dressing.
The familiar motions reminded her of the countless hours she'd spent in her parents' bakery, learning the ins and outs of food preparation. Those early experiences had sparked a passion that led her to study hospitality management in college, where she'd honed her skills both in the kitchen and in customer service.
She’d worked in a high-end restaurant in Denver and the fast-paced environment had been exhilarating, pushing her culinary skills to new heights. But something had always felt missing – the personal touch, the intimate connection with guests that she'd grown up with in her family's bakery.
That's what had drawn her to become a chalet girl. It combined her love for cooking with her knack for hospitality, allowing her to create personalized experiences for guests in one of the most beautiful settings imaginable. Over the years, she'd built a reputation as one of the best in the area, known for her exquisite meals and attentive service.
At precisely seven o'clock, Ms. Holloway appeared in the dining room. She'd changed into a different sweater, this one a deep burgundy that complemented her pale skin.
"Your dinner is ready, Ms. Holloway," Nat said, gesturing to the beautifully set table. She'd used the lodge's finest china and crystal, wanting to maintain some semblance of the luxury experience she'd planned. "I hope you like salmon."
Ms. Holloway nodded as she took her seat. "It's fine, thank you."
Nat poured a glass of chilled white wine, then stepped back. "Will there be anything else?"
