Page 59 of Meet Me on Christmas Eve

Blair flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and laughed. “Well, I hope someone can, because this girl seems confused. I need—” That was the moment where she looked up and saw me. She blinked in recognition, and her face morphed in an instant. “Oh my gosh, if it isn’t Maria. So nice to see you,” she said in a syrupy sweet voice, holding out a hand that I ignored. “You’re the manager now, you said?”

“It’s Mariana.” I didn’t bother to correct her on the manager thing. I was the acting manager right now, as I’d let the other managers go early to celebrate the rest of the holiday evening. I turned to the front desk employee. “Triveni, what seems to be the problem?”

“Well, she wants a room, but we’re all booked. She asked if we had rooms set aside for special guests—”

I turned to her. “We do indeed. Are you a special guest, Blair?” I keep my face arranged in an innocent expression.

She gave me a look as though we had an insider thing between us. “Oh, you know I am, we go way back. This girl didn’t seem to get it.”

I tapped my fingernails on the counter, pretending to think about it. “We do indeed go way back. Way back, I think, 10 years, right?” She smiled at me before flashing a condescending look at poor Triveni. I leveled a serious look at her. “Tell me, Blair, why did you do it?”

She tilted her head, scrunching her penciled eyebrows in confusion. “Why did I do what?”

I repeated myself, this time with a deadly cold tone. “Why did you do it?”

The pretense left her face then, replaced by growing. “I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, but—”

“Yes, you do. Just tell me why, and I’ll consider letting you stay here tonight.” I wouldn't, but she would find that out soon enough.

She seemed to contemplate this for a moment and then scoffed. “You can’t stop me from getting a room here. I don’t have to tell you shit.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips. “Let me talk to a different manager. Or your supervisor.”

“It’s not your lucky day, Blair. Because guess what? I own this place. And it’ll be a cold day in hell before you ever stay in my resort.” I took a breath, my chest heaving. “Now get out.”

Her jaw dropped, and loathing filled her eyes. “You can’t just kick me out! I’ve a right to a room like anyone else.”

“I can kick you out, and I will.” I pulled out my phone then and called security.

“Why are you here anyway?”

She glared at me, obviously trying to think of another plan of either getting her way or attacking me.

But I held up my hand to stop her. “Let me guess, Terry told you that you aren’t welcome at the family Christmas this year? Or maybe your grandma did? Gee, that’s too bad, Blair. I can’t say you didn’t deserve it though.”

I don’t know what was more satisfying, telling her off or seeing a security guard escort her out the doors as I cheerily waved goodbye.

As soon as she left, I caught Triveni staring at me in wonder. For a moment, I thought it was fear, but she high-fived me with a huge smile. I had to smile back. Employees never gave me high-fives. To each other, sure, but never to me. I just didn’t have that kind of relationship with the staff.

I frowned, wondering if the staff saw me as cold or boring or … I needed to stop thinking like this. As I walked down to the kitchen to get a snack before doing some rounds to check on other areas, I found myself wiping away more tears. Dammit, I can’t cry again. I thought I’d at least have the satisfaction from the Blair encounter to buffer against the sadness for a couple hours. But that triumph lasted all of five minutes. After cutting up the apple, I ate two pieces and threw it away. My stomach told me it was time to eat, but I couldn’t. Everything tasted like nothing … everything but the salt of my tears. But I can’t live on that, can I? Ugh, deranged thoughts—what’s next?

I’d somehow fallen asleep in the managers’ office when my phone started ringing with a call. With bleary eyes that were now extremely puffy and dry, I saw Hazel’s name and debated whether to answer.

But we always talked on Christmas, even when she hadn’t known it was my favorite holiday.

“Hazel, merry Christmas! How are you?”

“Besides meeting the love of my life and finding out he lives in Australia? I’m just fine and dandy,” she said sarcastically. “But hey, Merry Christmas!” She puts on happy-go-lucky tone, but it’s obviously a front.

“Woah, wait a minute, you didn’t mention anyone last night when we talked.” Since Hazel was a total romantic, this seemed like kind of a big deal. She was always hoping to find theonebut always striking out. Like many people in today’s modern dating world, I guess. That’s why I was glad to stay far, far away from it. Yep, that’s why.

“I think it was after that,” she said absently. “Anyway, he’s Japanese American, only recently moved to Australia for some really good job, but he was here visiting friends. You know I can always tell by the first date or two whether someone is going to work out. Well, yeah. This guy wouldwork out, Mari. He would. If he didn’t live on the other side of the damn Pacific! I am so goddamn mad. You have no idea.”

“I can see that. It’s—”

“But more than that—” She started sniffling. “More than that, my heart is broken.Shattered. I think I’m going to be done with dating and love forever. And he … he pretty much said the same. We only have one more day together.”

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