HOLDEN WEST
“We’re a ski lodge.Isn’t snow our best friend?” I shook my head.
On Christmas Eve, Mother Nature had little care for the fact that we had our Grand Opening in a week. She sent a gift of the biggest snowstorm the area had seen in some time.
Snowzilla, aptly named by the National Weather Station, headed straight for us in the mountains above Steele Valley, and the forecasts were unanimous, that this would not be a gentle and sweet snow. This was a shut-down-the-roads, secure everything in sight, and hope-your-generator-works type of snow. Snowzilla threatened to bury my new Snow Quest Ski Lodge.
Across from my desk, the department heads traded stressed glances.
“Boss, Snowzilla will bury us.” Mack massaged the back of his neck like the storm had personally offended him. As my Grounds Crew Manager, if he looked worried, I listened. “The snow will be perfect, sure—but the wind with this one makes it too dangerous for people and plows on those switchbacks.”
My phone buzzed again with another alert. “The county emergency manager texted that they’re closing the road up themountain within a few hours. No one should be on it once the storm hits. And a snowplow likely won’t get through for a couple of days,” I relayed the message.
“It’s Christmas Eve. The staff should be told now so they can evacuate before the road closes,” Toni reasoned.
“We should send everyone home for the holiday weekend so they can be with their loved ones.” Charles slid off his glasses and wiped them with the end of his silk tie, likely weighing the pros and cons from every financial angle.
Rita wrung her hands. As head housekeeper and unofficial lodge mom, I trusted her more than any spreadsheet when it came to morale. “But there’s still so much to do before the grand opening. I still have tinsel to hang on the lobby tree, and the shipment of Egyptian cotton towels just arrived. They’re in the laundry and need sorting and hanging in every room. And what about?—”
“Rita, we can finish it all after the storm. Safety first. We need to shut down for a few days, right Holden?” Charles cut in gently.
I held up my hands. “Everyone breathe. We’ll have time. We’ll make opening day happen.”
“Have you seen the long list of what we still need to do?” Mack muttered under his breath.
Rita leaned forward. “Holden, let a skeleton crew stay. If we keep working, we’ll be ahead?—”
“No. You’re all going home.” I tapped my pen like a judge with a gavel, giving the final word. “It’s Christmas Eve, and the last place anyone wants to be is stuck here in a storm. Everyone should spend it with family.”
They exchanged more worried looks, but one by one, they agreed it was the right thing to do.
“We have seven days until the lodge opens on New Year’s. You say a few days until snowplows push through, Mack?” Heconfirmed with a nod of his head.“That gives us four days to prepare the lodge for opening. You and your teams have done a great job. We’ve come so far. If we need to put in double time to finish up, we will. But I won’t have people stuck here for Christmas. What kind of vibes would that create for morale?”
Mack pulled his sherpa-lined cap back on his head. “I’ll notify the ski patrol and secure the ski lift, plus lock down everything outside before I go.”
I came around my desk and followed them out.
Rita squeezed my forearm, her eyes warm with concern. “I suppose towels in a hundred rooms are inconsequential compared to getting safely off the mountain before Snowzilla appears.”
“Go home to your lovely daughters and enjoy the holiday.” I tried not to think about Opening Day being a bust because our luxury guest suites didn’t have towels.
At the door, Rita paused. “Holden, you’re leaving too, right?”
I shrugged.
“You’d spend Christmas here alone?” She cocked a brow.
“I think someone should stay and keep an eye on things. I can’t ask Mack. He has a family. I don’t.”
“Like a sea captain. If the ship goes down, you go down with it,” Charles chuckled, slapping my back.
“Something like that,” I agreed.
Rita appeared skeptical. “Well, um, if you do stay, please don’t try to fix anything yourself.”
I scoffed. “Rita. Come on. It’s me. I may own the place, but you know I like to pitch in where I can.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.” She left with one last worried look over her shoulder.
