Page 3 of (Un)Expected

It was a prison of our own making.

The hours were long, and the expectations were next to impossible. No matter how hard you worked, someone wasn’t satisfied. I would have cut and run years ago if it weren’t for the benefits and pay. There were a ton of smaller hotels and inns surrounding our lakeside town, but none could come close to the life the Isadora afforded me.

Not that I’d taken a vacation since I started working there, but it was still nice to dream.

I snuck a peek at the clock as I turned the corner, swearing to myself as the minute hand clicked past seven. Officially late. For any other job, one minute late wouldn’t be the end of the world, but here, you might as well burn your timecard on the way out the door.

I bolted up the path toward the back of the resort. No one was around, so my tardiness was my little secret. My hips swayed a little more with each triumphant step.

Right before I could breathe a sigh of relief, though, I glanced up at the employee’s entrance. Standing in the doorway in a crisp white business suit was my mortal enemy.

“You’re late.”

“I assumeyou have an excuse for your tardiness.”

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear. My body shuddered as Diane Winters’ cool, calm words sliced through me like a sharpened blade.Dammit.Did I really think I could sneak in before my boss, the Baroness of Bullshit, caught me?

Count this as strike three for this shit show of a day.

When I interviewed for my position, Diane made the best first impression. She was kind and empathetic, made me feel like I was joining a solid team. Naive me believed she wanted to be more of a mentor than a boss.

However, that shiny, kind illusion quickly faded, leaving behind a micromanaging, controlling narcissist—the kind of boss whose sole mission in life was to torture her employees. Our salaries were basically hazard pay.

With a heavy sigh, I stepped forward, trying not to cower under her withering stare. If making people feel small was an Olympic event, Diane would win the gold medal every time. If you didn’t know her, Diane presented as warm and welcoming. Her short red hair was cut to her shoulders, her pale skin dusted with youthful freckles. There were even light wrinkles that lined her cheeks and mouth, proof that she used to smile at some point, but that was the only evidence of it now. As she stared at me, her immaculately buffed nails tapped into the skin of her crossed arms. She belonged in a workforce warning, ever the picture of corporate annoyance.

I gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. You know how congested it gets downtown. I got stuck behind some tourists?—”

“I don’t care.”

One. Two. Three. Breathe in. Breathe out. Do not murder your boss. You do not have the patience nor filter to survive long in prison.

“Your shift started at seven,” she said. My lower lip found itself tucked between my teeth as I nodded. “You recall our conversationregarding the VIP party joining us today? I expected you to be here on time and ready to greet them before they arrive.”

Fuck.

“Yes,” I forced out through gritted teeth. “I have all of their requests ready-”

“Alexandria,” she said, her voice lowering to an even more threatening decibel. “This is your final warning. I give you leniency because of your connection to my daughter, but I will not stand for you embarrassing me or this resort. Do I make myself clear?”

“Of course,” I smiled, hating myself for not saying what I meant. Even if I could’ve afforded to quit, my friendship with Diane’s daughter, Calla, made my feelings even more complicated. I thought Diane was the devil incarnate, but my best friend loved her mother, even with her hurtful brand of care.

Besides, nothing good ever came from arguing with Diane. She ruled the resort with an iron fist and did not hesitate to fire people who tried to “undermine” her. Last month, a cook got fired for merely suggesting some tweaks to the main restaurant. Funny how Diane managed to come up with a brilliant plan to revitalize the menu days after he left.

As she turned the corner toward the front lawn, I rushed inside, chucking the rest of my stuff into my locker before taking off into the lobby. As soon as my hand touched the door, my feet stopped.You can do this. You will be fine.I breathed out the words, trying to give them life. They were probably lies, but I needed to think them to summon the courage to walk inside.

When I twisted the handle, my carefully-curated smile was in place. It made my face hurt after about ten minutes, but it was part of the job. Diane and the rest of the board expected the very brightest and most gravity-defying smiles from all their employees. No other emotions were allowed.

Luckily for me, I had a lot of practice faking my way through life.

Walking to my desk, my smile became a little more genuine when I crossed into the lobby’s main atrium. While I might hate thedemands of this job, it would be a lie if I said the hotel itself wasn’t immaculate. Nestled in the Adirondack mountains, the building had been here long before the town grew around it. It had been updated several times since then, but it somehow managed to hold onto its original charm.

The soft, subtle glow of the morning light made the interior of the resort feel ethereal. The aroma of the forest and the breeze from the lake filled the space, as well as the dwindling embers from the large fireplace that took up the south wall. With the relaxing and natural vibes, the tightness in my chest started to ease.

Passing the front desk, I nodded at some of our departing guests. They were still looking around the room, trying to commit every detail to memory.

As I arrived at the concierge’s station, I was greeted by one of my favorite sights. From the front of the resort, the Isadora looks like your typical colonial-style building; the other side, however, was a different story. Floor-to-ceiling windows made up the entire back wall, showcasing the most amazing view of Saint Stephen’s Lake.

It was the main reason I took this job. I remember thinking when I left the interview that this job couldn’t be that bad if I got to stare out at this view every day. Like I said, past Alex was a naive fool.

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