Page 18 of Babies for the Christmas Grump
“It’s going to be epic. A holiday event with live music, hot toddy tastings, local artisans, and everything festive I can throw together. You know, really make it feel like we’re in a holiday movie.”
Dex takes a slow sip from his mug and stares at me like I’m about to reveal a body under the floorboards. “And you didn’t run this by Ryder first?”
“Why would I?” I ask, a bit too defensively. “It’s a one-night event. It’s festive. It’s harmless. I’m sure it’s what Aunt Evie would’ve wanted. Plus, it’s not going to cost much at all. The band I’ve messaged is local and will perform for cheap, and the craft vendors are just grateful for a place to sell their wares.”
Dex raises an eyebrow. “Just remember, if you’re going full Christmas cheer, you’d better be ready for his full Christmas rage.”
“I’ll deal with it.” I wave my hand dismissively, already planning where the twinkle lights will go.
It’s been ten minutes since Dex agreed to help, and I’m deep in the throes of elf ear gluing and fairy light arrangement when the door to my office flies open with enough force to rattle the framed picture of Aunt Evie on the wall.
Ryder stands in the doorway, face of thunder, his cold eyes pinning me to the chair.
Shit.
Time to face the music.
“What the hell is this?” he snaps, pointing at my laptop screen where I’ve sent an email titled “Let’s make Santa proud.” I’m pretty sure I have glue on my fingers, and my hair is half up in some crazy, chaotic bun.
I stand up, wiping my hands on my pants, but before I can even make a half-hearted attempt at smoothing things over, he slams the door shut behind him.
“Did you send this out to the entire staff? You’re planning a Tinsel and Toddy event in the middle of a financial disaster?”
“Look, Ryder…” I start, my tone already climbing into frustration territory because I can feel the guilt trip coming, and I’m not interested.
“What even is a hot toddy tasting flight?” he shoots back, running a hand through his hair as if I just suggested a medieval joust for entertainment. “This isn’t a goddamn bar crawl, Sunny.”
I exhale, trying not to just throw a stapler at his face. “It’s a holiday event. You know, festive? Fun? It’s almost December. People want to feel good. People want to escape the constant pressure of bills and impending doom.”
“You think a handful of overpriced drinks and some arts and crafts are going to pull this place out of a financial hole?” His voice drops an octave, turning icy. “This isn’t some pop-up Christmas market, it’s a hotel. A business.”
I cross my arms, staring at him. “And if I don’t give them something to be excited about, what do you think will happen? They’ll keep walking through the front door with their wallets closed and their faces long. No one’s going to invest in this place if it feels like a mausoleum with a Christmas tree.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair again, clearly ready to explode. “You want a solution? How about I remind you that we’re in the red? How about I remind you that we can’t afford a party?”
“Fine.” I throw my hands up. “Maybe I can’t fix the finances with holiday cheer, but I can at least try something. Do you have a better idea, Ryder? A magic solution to fix everything?”
The silence that follows is heavy and suffocating. He looks at me. Really looks at me, his gaze sharp, but there’s more there. Maybe he’s seeing the same thing I am a hotel with cracks in every floorboard, but a lot of heart.
“I don’t think this is the right idea, Sunny,” he says quietly, more controlled now, “but I’m willing to hear you out. The numbers don’t lie, but I’ll give you one shot.”
I stare at him for a beat. “One shot?”
“Yeah,” he says firmly. “Prove to me this can work.”
I stand there for a moment, completely unsure of whether I just won that argument or just managed to get a small glimmer of hope. “Deal.”
As Ryder leaves, he pauses at the door, turning back to me as his eyes narrow slightly. “Just don’t go overboard, okay? This isn’t just about holiday spirit.”
I nod quickly. “Understood.”
But as soon as the door shuts behind him, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I’m not sure if I’ve won this battle, but at least I’ve got a chance.
And in this hotel, a chance is all I’ve ever needed.
I sit back down in my chair, breathing in deep, trying to shake off the adrenaline from Ryder’s little tirade. I glance around the office, half-expecting the walls to collapse in on me.
“Let’s make Santa proud.” I chuckle to myself because, well, it is kind of ridiculous. But at least it’s something.
