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1
SUMMER
In a sudden gust of bitter cold, the wind picked up around me as I trudged through the powdery snow toward the Belancio Hotel. It was a luxurious establishment where I had spent the better part of the last three years working every available hour in the hopes of climbing to a management position. As another New Year threatened just around the corner, that promotion wasn’t looking likely. Still, it lingered in the back of my mind. This time of year not only brought about the prospect of promotion but was also my busiest time of year.
Most people were desperate for time off to spend the holidays with their families, but not me. All I had waiting for me when that fateful day rolled around was a microwave dinner and whatever trash was on TV. As such, I always put myself forward to pick up the extra shifts that no one else wanted, which I was praying would give me the edge for the assistant manager’s position I applied for a few weeks ago.
Another cold gust of wind dislodged a few unruly strands of dark brown hair from my carefully placed knit hat. With cheeks pink from the cold, I clutched at the edge of the hat and half jogged the last few steps toward the Belancio. I let out a deep, relieved sigh the moment I was through those gold-rimmed double doors and was met with the well-heated lobby. The light scent of vanilla and cinnamon mingled with the warmth to create a cozy and inviting entrance.
“Evenin’ Roger,” I beamed up at the doorman as I stamped my feet on the branded mat to dislodge lingering snow and unraveled the wool scarf from my neck. “It’s a wild one today. I saw there’s a snowstorm coming down from the north. Hope it doesn’t cause too much trouble.”
Christmas was just under a month away, and with it, I would get the extra fat bumper check for all my extra hours.
“Yep, wild one,” Roger replied. As he checked me over, I noticed he lacked the usual twinkle in his eye, and his smile didn’t quite have the same warmth I was used to.
“Long day?” I shrugged off my coat and draped it over one arm, then shook my hair free of my almost dislodged hat.
“Something like that,” Roger replied tightly. The door behind me dinged, signaling someone was a few feet behind me, so I hurried forward and headed for the front desk. Two women staffed the desk; Sophie Alcott, who handled the desk during most of the day, and Mary Gilchrist, who often took the night shift. They weren’t often seen in the same place due to personal grievances, so I approached them cautiously.
Sophie was my main competitor when it came to the assistant manager position. While she was often bitter, I worked hard to maintain my politeness.
“Evening, ladies!” I offered my brightest smile. “It’s cold as all hell outside. Might mean we’re in for a quiet night.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Sophie replied, her tone tart. Her lips were pursed, emphasizing the wrinkles of age around her mouth. She stood behind the front desk smoothing her hands down the dark blue jacket and pencil skirt of the Belancio uniform. “Dillon wants to see you in his office.”
“Right now?” I glanced at the ornate clock behind the desk and frowned. I was ten minutes early for my shift, and I was only just in the door. “Alright, let me change, and I’ll head up.”
“No,” Sophie replied shortly. “Now. He said he wanted me to send you up when you arrived.”
“Really?”
Sophie smoothed one hand over her jacket and a small smile teased at the corner of her lips. “Yes, really.”
“Did he say what it was about?”
Sophie and Mary glanced at one another.
“No,” said Sophie with a light sigh. “But you shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
It was difficult to ignore the sudden bubble of excitement that rose in my chest as I thanked the girls and hurried toward the elevator. These past few weeks had been pretty mundane in terms of work, so there was only one thing I could think of that would require a visit to the manager’s office.
The promotion.
Mypromotion. Was it terrible to hope for that?
I wouldn’t have to put up with Sophie’s stale attitude any longer if I had the power of assistant manager, nor would I have to continuously try the undercooked brownies Steph from accounts often brought in to show off.
Those thoughts and more carried me on clouds as I took the elevator to the fourteenth floor and hurried down the corridor. Finally, after so much hard work, things were starting to pay off. It was almost hard to imagine that I had been at the lowest point of my life four years ago. Battling a drug and alcohol addiction while under the influence of my abusive ex-boyfriend, I had done many things in my life that I was far from proud of.
Some of those things kept me awake at night, wrapped in cold sweats and jumping at noises. Guilt that would never shift despite how hard I had worked to turn my life around. I had started that change the day I sent that abusive, piece of crap ex to prison.
Now here I was on the cusp of a new promotion, and with the money that would bring in, maybe I could finally say goodbye to my dingy apartment.
“Dillon?” I knocked lightly on the door of the manager’s office, then tested the handle.
“Come in,” boomed a deep voice. I pushed open the door and plastered my brightest smile over my red-painted lips as the large, round form of my manager, Dillon Higgins, came into view.
“You wanted to see me?”
