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CARTER HAYES WAITED in the lobby of the newly-built Garland Creek Resort where rusticity met elegance. His attention drifted to the porcelain angel, which reigned over the massive Christmas tree, smartly decorated with a variety of blue ornaments and white bulbs. Only three weeks until the winter holiday and four weeks until Wheeler, the senior partner at Wheeler, Hayes, and Douglas would make one of the most important decisions of Carter’s life. He was tempted to wish upon the illuminated angel if that were such a thing, but he gave up on Christmas magic before entering kindergarten. Hard work and determination would make him the next partner in his father’s law firm.
“Carter, over here.” His father, the formidable Palmer Hayes, slipped a card key into his son’s outstretched hand as he stepped away from the front desk. “You have the cottage next to mine. After we unpack, I want to go over the Thompson account. It’s vital that you have every detail memorized.”
His father had been taking advantage of every opportunity to grill him, and after driving for over three hours together, Carter didn’t have the patience for one more word. His mother would have made Palmer back off, which is probably why he persuaded the partners to leave family members at home, even though many of them wanted to stay at the resort during their grand opening month. “I’ve done my homework,” he told his father. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
“I’ll decide when you’ve ‘got this,’” Palmer snapped. His foul mood brought out every crease on his aging face. Still sneering, he motioned for the bellhop standing near the French doors. “I can’t believe Thompson decided to settle down on a ranch near this sorry excuse for a town,” he told Carter. “It doesn’t even have a mall. Not that I would shop in one.”
Carter swallowed a sarcastic comment about his father not believing in holidays. “I can see why he moved. Up here in the mountains, Thompson won’t have to fight Scottsdale’s traffic.”
“The man has chauffeurs. He can work or even sleep during the drive.” His father turned to the valet loading their luggage onto a cart. “Be careful. I don’t want my bags scratched.”
“Sorry, sir,” the gangly young man apologized, even though he had done nothing wrong.
“Cottages five and six.” Carter slipped the valet a twenty. He marched off to catch up with his father, who would rip the heads off every employee in the resort if his mood didn’t improve. “I’m sure you will be able to talk Thompson out of transferring his account to a local firm. No one is more persuasive than you.”
“If that were true,” his father replied, “Wheeler would have already made you partner. You know this week isn’t only about persuading Thompson to keep his account with us, it’s about proving to Wheeler that you’re more of an asset to our firm than Douglas’s Harvard punk nephew. I bet you anything, Douglas is campaigning for his nephew to make partner just to get at me. It’s not my fault he never had kids.”
No. You just threw it in his face every chance you got. Carter rubbed his temple. “That promotion will be mine.” Or you will never let me live it down.
His father grabbed his forearm with more pressure than warranted. “I want more than your assurances. I want results. If Douglas’s nephew works ten hours a day, you work twenty.”
Carter glanced over his shoulder to the guests entering the lobby. A family of five, which included two teenage boys and a small girl jumping up and down. They shook off the snow and grinned, assumingly, at the anticipation of spending a carefree vacation at the new Garland Creek Resort. No one had noticed his father’s actions.
Palmer’s gaze followed his son’s, and he quickly released his grip. “I apologize,” he murmured. “I lost myself for a moment. Young people today cannot fathom the amount of work that goes into building a law firm. The effort isn’t just for yourself, but for your children and their children and so on. It’s more than a business. It’s a legacy.”
He studied his father’s defeated expression. The man had always been bigger than life. To see him bothered so much by a decision that ultimately came down to his actions, weighed heavily on him.
I understand more than you think I do. He had cringed at the way his father seethed whenever Owen Douglas, another partner in the firm, bragged that his nephew had graduated from Harvard Law School. I could have attended any school I wanted—well maybe not Harvard.
The truth was his mother had been battling Chronic Fatigue Syndrome when it came time to choose a law school, and he couldn’t bear the idea of leaving her alone to fend for herself. His father had kept telling her it was all in her head and continued to work long hours. No matter how many times his father had urged him to attend a more prestigious school out of state, he refused to change his mind. He never had lofty ambitions. He always knew he had a place in the firm. Since then, his mother had recovered, but his relationship with his father hadn’t.
“Let’s talk about it later.” Carter rubbed the tension building in his forehead. “It’s been a long day.”
“True. Our cottages are on the other side of the pool house.” His father marched across the lobby toward the exit. “I hope this whole place isn’t decorated with those ridiculous twinkling lights and painted, plywood elves.”
Carter sighed. At this point, wishing upon a Christmas tree angel couldn’t hurt. He glanced back over his shoulder at the tree and noticed a beautiful young woman taking pictures near the stone fireplace. Her wavy, chestnut-colored hair fell several inches below her shoulders. She pushed several silky strands away from her almond-shaped eyes as she handed a brightly wrapped package to a little girl who stood next to the tree. He grinned at the child’s surprise and delight. He vaguely remembered the excitement of receiving gifts when he was that age; probably four, maybe five.
The young woman stepped closer to the girl while she kept her framed with the camera. The girl’s eyes grew wide as she ripped off the wrapping. The photographer knelt on the wooden floor, seemingly unconcerned about her bare knees beneath her royal-blue dress. She alternated the position of her camera for her next shot.
The child opened the gift and withdrew a baby doll swaddled in a pink blanket. With all the wonder and innocence of a child on Christmas morning, she tossed the box and held her new toy to her chest. She showed her mother her gift and the photographer handed the amused parents a piece of paper.
Carter thought back on his own holiday mornings. His mother did her best to make them special with an abundance of presents and poorly sung carols, while his father worked away in his study. At least he had his mother. He turned to see his father standing at the door waiting for him and, with a heavy heart, Carter stepped away from the holiday cheer. And away from the ghosts of Christmas past.
****
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Photographer, Gina Ferari, centered the gray-haired couple through the lens of her camera. They had not yet noticed her, but she had noticed them right away. They warmed their hands by the fire, sharing conspiratorial smiles that spoke of a day of fun, and perhaps mischief. Love flowed between them and seemed to beckon all to discover their secret to a life-long bond.
She inched closer and captured the woman gazing into the dancing flames, their continuous motion reflected in her eyes. Gina pondered upon what she must have seen over the past sixty years: joy brought on by a baby’s smile, grief that comes with loss, stress alternating with pleasure, and the quiet bliss of moments like this. Her camera captured that history in people’s expressions, their touch, and the unspoken connection flowing between them. At least she hoped so.
When the gentleman noticed her, he grinned as though pleasantly surprised. “You caught us off guard this time.”
“I couldn’t resist.” Gina handed him her camera. “See for yourself.”
His wife blushed as he studied the picture captured by the digital camera. “You are a vision, my dear.” He leaned to the side to allow his wife to view the screen. “I assume we will receive a complimentary copy along with the one we posed for this morning.”
“You will.” Gina reached for the camera he held out to her. “And if you don’t mind, I would like to keep a copy in my portfolio.”
“We would be honored,” the delicate woman gushed. “Do you want me to sign another release?”
“Right here.” A flutter of excitement tickled Gina’s senses. She whipped the computer tablet containing the necessary form out of her leather satchel. The photo of them gazing into each other’s eyes in front of the fire would be the highlight of her collection. If anyone ever asked her what love was, she would share that image.
Upon completing her official business, she strolled around the hotel searching for an opportunity to capture another inspiring scene. Instead, she found Sophia leaving the cafe with a cup of hot coffee. Her aunt had been hired as the Director of Housekeeping Services when the resort was just an idea. Everyone in the area knew Sophia to be professional, efficient, and well-liked. As she drew closer, Gina noticed the worry lines etched into her aunt’s forehead.
“What’s wrong?”
Sophia glanced over her shoulder. No one appeared to be within hearing distance. “Someone stole a ruby and diamond necklace from a guest’s room safe. Did you see anyone acting suspiciously today?”
“I’m afraid not,” Gina said. “Were there any clues left behind?”
“No. The couple who rented the cottage didn’t even know the necklace had been stolen until they opened the safe after returning from the spa.”
“That is horrible!” Gina kept her voice low. This was the last thing both her aunt and her employer needed. Whenever an expensive item came up missing in the hotel industry, fingers pointed in the direction of housekeeping. Plus, with social media, an upset guest could destroy the reputation of the resort before it had a chance to succeed. “I’ll keep my eyes open for anything suspicious.”
She squeezed Gina’s hand. “I knew I could count on you.”
Sophia, more a mother than an aunt, was the one who urged the resort’s owner to hire her as their official photographer. There wasn’t anything Gina wouldn’t do for her.
“Four of my maids have already made a point of telling me they have been working in other areas of the resort, which, of course, I already knew. News like this puts everyone on edge.” A sheepish smile passed over Sophia’s face when the manager, Joe Romano, walked across the lobby. He spared her a quick, puzzled look. “I have to get back to work,” she whispered. “He thinks I’m messing around.”
“I’ll see you in the morning when I drop off the envelopes.”
“I can’t even tell you what a hit those complimentary photographs are.” Sophia took several retreating steps toward the administrative offices. “The guests could care less about the goodie baskets. The first thing they open is the envelope. I have heard a ton of compliments on the amazing job you do.”
“I’m sure they don’t all think they look amazing, although I do spend a lot of time editing.”
“Okay, maybe one person couldn’t appreciate your talent, but he’s a snob anyway.”
Gina chuckled. No one can please everyone. “I’m keeping you from your work. I’ll bring donuts with those envelopes in the morning.”
“I’m holding you to that.” Her aunt waved her off as she walked purposely down the hall.
Taking a moment to reflect on their conversation, Gina hoped the missing necklace showed up soon. The grand opening of the resort had been a huge success. She hated to see anything dampen their spirits or cast doubt on anyone.
Gina focused her attention back on her work. Guests were bound to return from the festivities at the town square soon. She plopped her satchel down on a console table next to a crystal vase overflowing with Christmas greenery. Suddenly, an enormous white dog ran across the lobby and slammed into her leg. She stumbled back, lost her balance, and fell as she clutched her camera for dear life. Fear of breaking her brand-new camera as well as a bone or two made seconds seem like minutes. “Whoa!”
“I’ve got you!” The voice belonged to a man standing behind her, who managed to sweep in and catch her before her derriere, or her camera, could hit the tile floor.
Gina felt her face flush. Looking down, she found a man’s large hands protruding from her underarms. He lifted her to a standing position. She righted herself, then, still embarrassed, double-checked her camera. It appeared to have survived the collision intact. She held it close and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you. That would have resulted in a nasty bruise, if not worse.” So much worse if my camera broke. She couldn’t afford to replace it. A quick scan of the lobby confirmed the husky had vanished as quickly as he had arrived. “I don’t know how that dog got in here.”
“The same way everyone else did.” He pointed to guests walking through the French doors.
“I suppose you’re right.” When her gaze landed on the man who had saved her, she noticed his calming blue eyes and strong jaw. Her pulse skipped a beat, and she hoped her expression hadn’t given away her instant attraction to him. Then she spotted the expensive, Italian suit and pressed her lips together to avoid a cringe, not because she messed up the fine tailoring during her fall—she hadn’t—but because of what his suit represented to her.
“I’m Carter Hayes.” He reached his hand out to shake hers. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He studied her face carefully. Too close for her comfort.
“I’m Gina Ferari.” She shook his hand, which enveloped her. “I’m all right. Luckily, you caught me in time.” She pushed away the childhood memories of a man in an Italian suit flirting with her mother and then held up her camera. “As part of the resort’s grand opening celebration, guests are receiving a complimentary photograph of their stay here. Would you like to pose next to the Christmas tree or perhaps the fireplace?”
He shook his head. “I would rather take you out to dinner instead. You know, to make sure you’re truly all right.”
She felt like someone had pushed the Christmas tree over onto her head. “What?”
“Dinner. You do eat dinner, don’t you?”
“Yes, but . . .” Why was this man asking her out? He was obviously well-off, handsome, and not from around here or she would have noticed him before. Why would he want to go out with a small-town photographer who wore off-the-rack clothes, sported a ten-dollar haircut, and appreciated the simplicity of minimal jewelry? She didn’t even own a diamond. He could be the type who conquered townies and then left them broken-hearted, but she didn’t pick up that vibe from him. “Sorry, I’m not allowed to date guests.”
“Hmm. That’s a problem.”
“Why would you want to go out with a klutz anyway?”
“You were knocked over. That hardly makes you a klutz.” He motioned to her camera. “I noticed how you interact with people. You intrigue me, and I want to get to know you better. Is that a crime?”
“No, and I’m flattered. But, as I said, I can’t date a guest.” And I feel uncomfortable around wealthy men wearing Italian suits.
“Well.” He rubbed his chin with his thumb. “Do you only take photographs for the resort?”
“No . . .” What is he up to? “I also freelance.”
“Then let’s talk business. Over dinner.”
“What kind of business? And I already ate.”
“The firm I work for will be needing new photographs soon. How about drinks?”
She eyed him suspiciously. “What type of firm? What kind of photographs? And not drinks. I have to drive a winding mountain road later.”
“A law firm. Photos for a press release when we announce the new partner. And coffee, or hot chocolate? Whichever you prefer.”
“Coffee is always good.” This had better not be a game he’s playing to get me in the sack. For the sake of her fledgling business, she needed to find out. “I can meet you in the cafe in an hour.”
“An hour it is.” A Cheshire cat smile brightened his eyes.