Holidays with the Billionaire

Chapter 8

Kelton

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I pause thumb-typing on my phone when I hear a grunt and a groan. Standing on the walkway into the resort, I lift a brow as I watch Adlee struggle to lift her suitcase out of the back of the SUV. How much shit did she need to pack for six days? Because I’m not an inconsiderate asshole, I pocket the phone and slowly walk over to help her, irritated that the bellhop staff are not around to do this. I realize they’ve been swamped with new guests, but they should have someone outside at all times. I make a mental note to talk to Greg, our general manager.

“Thanks,” Adlee grumbles softly as I set the giant purple paisley monstrosity down on the snowy ground at the curb. I glance around and still see no staff, so I lift it off the ground and set it on the curb.

The SUV driver, who I hired last minute since ours was sick, calls out, “All good?”

Irritated he stayed in his nice, warm driver’s seat and didn’t help Adlee—or any of us for that matter—I hit the button on the back and let it close. Then I tap the window twice to indicate he can leave. Fuck him and his tip. Lazy asshole.

I grab Adlee’s bag and wheel it up and into the resort.

“Thanks, boss,” she says with a smile.

“Mr. Fox!” I hear as we enter the resort lobby.

I turn to see Bernice Evergreen, our resident house mother. Well, she’s technically the hospitality manager, but she acts more like everyone’s grandmother.

“Bernice, good to see you,” I say, hugging her back when she throws her short, plump arms around me. She smells like gingerbread and vanilla.

“You too.” She looks at Adlee and her face brightens. “Ooh! Who is this? Oh, aren’t you just lovely? I’m Bernice Evergreen. I’m in charge of hospitality and anything else anyone needs ’round here!”

Adlee grins. “I’m Adlee Phillips. Nice to meet you.”

“Is this your—?” Nosy-ass Bernice asks.

“No,” I reply quickly. “She’s... replacing Kay.” I have zero energy to explain the whole Lea breaking her leg debacle.

“Very nice. We’re going to miss her ’round here, but I’m sure you’ll do fine, Miss Adlee.”

Bernice pats my arm and gives me a wink with her tongue peeking out the corner of her mouth. I forgot about Bernice’s incessant need to play matchmaker. Never holds back asking me when I’m settling down so I can have children to leave this giant resort to. Never mind that my brother has two already. I watch as she toddles off and only now notice her green Christmas sweater has colorful lights blinking on and off all over it. She greets several other people as she heads for the front desk.

“She’s... nice,” Adlee says as I hand her the suitcase I’d still been holding

I nod. “Follow me, I’ll show you your room.”

“Cool.”

I glance back at her and bite back a smile as she takes in the resort lobby with wide eyes. Christmas decorations have been thrown up in the place, sparkling snowflakes hang from the ceiling, and the three lobby desks are decked out in festive décor. The enormous crystal chandelier has holly and crystallized snowflakes hanging from it. Mistletoe hangs in every doorway. Instrumental Christmas music plays from the speakers softly, but loud enough to be heard and noticed.

I head toward the elevator and stab the button, waiting for the car to arrive. A glance at Adlee still shows the awe on her face. I take an indulgent moment to study her face, loving the slight blush on her cheeks and her full, cherry lips slightly paused. Her chestnut hair hangs in waves down her back, and I look down at her hand wrapped around her suitcase handle and see short pink-painted nails, simple and elegant.

The elevator dings its arrival and I usher her in with a flourish before entering myself. The elevator ride up to the fourth and top floor of the resort is done in awkward silence. There’s a weird tension in the air, but it’s not exactly uncomfortable. It’s more like—I feel this smoldering heat between us that is foreign but relaxed.

We reach the top floor, and as we exit, I indicate for her to go but she’s frozen in place, staring out the large window in front of us.

“Holy moly. You can see the whole city from here,” she breathes, eventually exiting the elevator and dragging her purple monstrosity to the bank of windows.

I resist a chuckle. “The rooms are this way.”

I head that way, not waiting for her. She can gawk at the view later.

Hearing her catch up to me, I don’t glance back. There are five large suites on this level, and myself, my COO, and my CFO and their partners take three. My brother and his wife take the fourth. And my assistant—usually Kay and her husband for years, but now Adlee—takes the fifth. It’s the smallest but it’s still spacious at 1,000 square feet.

I use an app on my phone to open her suite door. The green light indicates my success, and I turn the handle, opening the door for her.

“Wow, this is gorgeous,” she says, eyes wide again as she takes in the double queen beds, 80-inch television, work desk, plush armchair, and the massive bathroom.

“Text me your number and I’ll send you the app to install so you can unlock your room from your phone,” I tell her.

She turns to me. “Uh, I don’t have your number.”

I put my hand out. “Give it to me.”

Adlee’s momentarily confused, but then says, “Oh.” She pulls her phone from the pocket of her puffy jacket, unlocks it, and hands it to me. “Here.”

I huff in annoyance at her android operating system and eventually find her contacts. I put my number in and save it as Mr. Fox and hand it back to her.

“Text me,” I demand.

She gazes up at me with those lime-green eyes and nods, chewing the side of her lip before she looks down at her phone and I’m forced to keep my eyes on hers and not those lips. She types with her thumbs. “Done.”

My phone chimes and that’s enough to let me know she did it. I turn and leave without another word, heading to the end of the hall to my regular suite. I didn’t realize I was waiting for her door to click closed so I’d know she’s safe until I hear it. Internally chastising myself for giving a fuck, I use the app to open my door and head inside.

A small smile lifts my lips as I’m greeted with the familiar suite I stay in every year. The plate-glass windows show me the whole town, and after I roll my suitcase into the room, I set my phone down on the dresser and head to the windows. With my hands in my slacks pockets, I gaze down at the town. Although it’s not even six p.m., dusk has set and night is quickly approaching. The valley of the town is lit up in twinkling lights, a lot of colored ones shining through as well. Snow blankets the rooftops, and the roads are the only thing not white with snow. It looks like a postcard.

My breath fogs up the window and I walk back into the room to unpack a little bit. I pop on the TV and find the Avs game.

I loosen my tie and yank it off over my head. I’m not even sure why I dressed up for a two-hour car ride here with my employees only to take this thing off and change into something more comfortable.

My fingers feel cold against my throat as I take off the tie and I realize it’s freezing in here. the thermostat says it’s 72 degrees, but it’s not quite that warm. I walk over to the fireplace and poke the log with the poker before locating the long matches on a shelf next to it. I light several and place them between the logs, and before long, I’ve got a roaring fire.

My stomach rumbles. I walk over to the phone and pick it up, dialing room service.

“Mr. Fox, how can I help you?” a female voice greets.

“Whatever you’ve got on special, add a side of vegetables,” I state.

“Absolutely. Anything to drink?”

“Send up a bottle of Whistle Pig Black, please, and more bottled waters.”

“You got it, sir. Anything else? Dessert, perhaps?”

The only dessert I want is in the shape of a pale, green-eyed woman with cinnamon-colored hair and curves, but of course that’s not on the menu. Ever.

“No, that’ll be it.”

“It’ll be up in thirty minutes or less, sir.”

I hang up and change into gray sweatpants and a Colorado Avalanche tee. I almost breathe a sigh of relief at how good the garments feel. Suits and ties are mandatory for my job, but truth be told, I fucking hate them.

With a passion.

I pull out my phone and read the text.

Adlee: It’s me, Adlee.

I chuckle and save her contact, then quickly find the app for the door security and send her a link to download it without any other commentary. She’ll get to choose her own code, but the one I used will still work on my phone, as well. Not that I have any reason to be going into her room.

I realize she’s probably hungry, and while I’m sure she can figure out how to order her own food, I don’t admit to myself that I’m texting her instructions as an excuse.

Me: You can dial room service for food or go down and dine in one of the restaurants if you get hungry. Should be a list of numbers and a map resort in your room somewhere.

She replies immediately: Thanks.

Me: Be sure to review the work itinerary for tomorrow and be prepared.

Adlee: You got it, boss.

I never cared for that term until her and I wonder what it’ll sound like falling from her lips while I smack her behind.

I shake my thoughts loose from her and start hanging up my garment bags so my suits don’t get wrinkled.

Soon, my food is delivered and while I eat, I look through the schedule I have tomorrow. We’re hitting the ground running with meetings. I wonder how Adlee will be. She’s already proven herself efficient in doing some of Lea’s job, so I know she’s sharp and a fast learner.