Page 40 of The Wedding Twist

“This is a message for Celeste McCarthy,” a reserved male voice sounded. “This is Stephan Jolliet from the Keystone Ridge Resort. We received your application, and we’d like to invite you for an interview on Thursday morning at nine a.m.” He continued with details about the location of the interview, but Celeste’s mind was whirling, and she had to save the message and replay it to note everything down.

When was the last time she’d interviewed for a job? When she’d applied to A Novel Idea, the independent bookstore in town, for a part-time job in twelfth grade?

She certainly hadn’t applied for her job at the lodge. What had started out as a last-minute replacement for Mrs. Hammond, who’d taken on operating the front desk five years after the lodge had opened and the administrative tasks had become too much for Jeannie and Everett. Mrs. Hammond’s twenty-one-year-old son and his girlfriend had found themselves in quite a predicament after they’d accidentally gotten pregnant—with twins, and Mrs. Hammond had moved to Surrey to be closer and to help them out.

Celeste had never seen herself working at the lodge. Her plan had been to travel with her friend Emily through Greece and Italy, and she had agreed to help out before and after in order to fund part of the trip, but when they’d found themselves without Mrs. Hammond right at their busiest time of year, Celeste had postponed her trip until her parents found a replacement.

The summer job, which had also helped pay her last year’s tuition at the University of Victoria, had extended into a full-time gig after graduation while she’d finished her applications to grad school. She’d been accepted to two different programs but had declined both offers, since Matt had wanted to stay in town, and she’d made the mistake of putting his wants and needs first. Luckily she enjoyed working at the lodge and figured she’d enroll in an online program at some point.

Now here she was, facing a terrifying job interview with no credentials and only four days to prep. She felt a tinge of guilt as she picked up her phone and texted Jack. “Hate to do this, but can’t make it tonight,” she typed. “Interview Thursday.” She added a fingers-crossed emoji, then tossed her phone onto the desk.

She’d felt confident and self-assured after pulling off such a successful wedding, ready to bask in the satisfaction of a job well done.

She was good. Sheknewshe was good. Now all she could do was try to swallow the fear of being exposed as a fraud.

Chapter Thirteen

The highway wasas clear as the cornflower-blue sky overhead as Celeste drove out of Keystone Ridge toward Banff on Thursday morning, but her mind was a jumble of conflicting thoughts.

It was eight in the morning, and she’d had to fake a doctor’s appointment to avoid any questions from her family. She didn’t want to deal with their input. She was tired of the same refrain:Of course the new owners will keep you on!andThey’d be crazy to let you go.The interview would be a secret, and she’d deal with things later on if by some miracle she ended up getting a job offer.

She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. At least she appeared put together, with a generous layer of under-eye concealer, her favorite navy Theory suit with a silk sleeveless top underneath, and her grandmother’s diamond studs adding a noticeable but discreet touch of elegance. Just the way Celeste liked to operate.

She’d been instructed to park in the employee parking lot at the back of the hotel and report to the hotel’s office off to the side of the concierge desk to announce her presence.

The lobby was filled with the sweet scent of the giant fresh floral arrangement sitting in the middle of the high-ceilinged space. A young man in a black suit and close-cropped hair looked up from his concierge desk computer when she approached.

“I’m Celeste McCarthy,” she said. “Here to see Stephan Jolliet.”

“Welcome, Ms. McCarthy,” he said, smiling politely. “Please wait right here.” He indicated a leather banquette by the wall that sat underneath a Maud Lewis reproduction. Or, on closer inspection, was it an original? The lobby was immaculately clean, beautifully decorated, and exuded a sense of calm and order.

Celeste sat on the banquette, mindful of her posture, and took a deep breath in, as though she could drink up the serenity and let it unfurl the knots in her stomach. She observed the goings-on at the front desk, the views of the mountains from the windows on one side and the thick forested area spotted with cabins on the other.

A young couple was checking out, moving with the unhurried, relaxed nature of a successful holiday. Celeste noted how the front desk clerk greeted them promptly with a smile, inquired about their stay, and wished them safe travels home. It wasn’t rocket science. So why was she so nervous?

“Ms. McCarthy?” a woman’s voice said from beside her. Celeste turned to see the thin-lipped, stern face of Annie Flint, her silver hair pulled back so tight it was a miracle the follicles were holding on. She hadn’t known Annie was going to be the one conducting the interview. Wasn’t it frowned upon for someone to interview their replacement?

But of course she would. Someone with that strong of an iron grip wouldn’t be content to let justanyonefill her brushed-leather Prada loafers.

Celeste stood up, smiled politely, and extended her hand to shake Annie’s. Every movement, every word, every interaction from this moment on would be judged to see Celeste’s manners, her nature, her ability to exude grace under pressure.

“Grayson, please take Ms. McCarthy’s jacket.” Immediately the young man at the desk relieved her of her coat and disappeared into the back room. “Let’s start with a tour, then, shall we?” Annie said, gesturing toward the exit of the lobby. “Stephan will join us in the boardroom after you’ve had the chance to look around.”

“Thank you,” said Celeste, and she followed Annie, who strode across the hardwood floors with the precision of a metronome. “What a beautiful place,” she said. “The last time I was here, I was twelve. My mom took me for afternoon tea for my birthday. So it’s nice to see it again after all these years.”

Annie nodded briskly. “Many of our other candidates for the role are international and so won’t have the benefit of touring the space. But I think it’s important to see what you’d be signing on for. It’s not a small operation,” she said, dipping her chin as she turned to look at Celeste over her glasses.

Manyother candidates? How many wasmany?

Manydidn’t sound promising.

“This is the guest lounge and bar,” Annie said, ushering Celeste into a large multileveled area, with plush velvet seating and a mahogany Bösendorfer grand piano in the middle of the space. She looked up and took in the sight of a stunning chandelier, with clusters of concentrated crystals that extended out in bursts, like a heap of constellations.

“Swarovski, modeled after the New York Metropolitan Opera House,” Annie said. “Our owner, Mr. Kantor, is a huge classical-music fan and visits New York, Chicago, or San Francisco one weekend each month. He thought the chandeliers were perfect for the hotel, given the popularity of our observatory.”

Celeste had researched the hotel’s observatory online, which had a retractable roof and was staffed by a full-time astronomer, making the hotel a magnet for stargazers. The Butterfly Lake Lodge’s stargazing room looked like amateur hour in comparison.

Each room was more impressive than the last, and when they finally arrived at the boardroom for the interview, Celeste felt a mixture of awe and nerves. How had she ever thought she would be qualified to manage an operation of this magnitude?

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