“Charles,” Angie planned as she spoke. “The group will be here late this afternoon or early evening. We need to get the cleaning staff busy now. All the rooms in the Inn plus the outside cottages need preparing for incoming guests. There are ten couples we can put in their own private spots by the lake and the rest we can house here inside the Inn, including the guide and the bus driver. It’s perfect.”
“I know you love your job, but Angie, you don’t give yourself enough time off. Life’s too short to work non-stop.” Charles sighed. “But I suppose, new business is always good for long-term growth.”
“Exactly!” Angie agreed.
Charles reached for the phone and called, Stacy, the head of housekeeping. Before long, Angie saw girls bustling up and down stairs, the cleanup from the prior group well under way.
Angie rushed to her office to begin the paperwork. She sat at the same desk her father, Samuel Parkinson, and his father before him had sat. This had been a family business for over eighty years, but the full responsibility had just fallen into her lap this past winter when her parents had died unexpectedly in a car crash. Most of the year was booked a full year in advance but last week one group canceled. They’d lost their deposit and left a seven-day gap on the calendar. She couldn’t be more pleased to have it filled.
Angie loved the Inn and wanted more than anything to see the heritage continue by watching her own future children grow and take over the business. She chuckled knowing that, at the moment, no love interest loomed on her horizon, and she feared just one glimpse at her busy life would send any decent man running for the hills. Who’d volunteer for this twelve-month craziness besides her? But it was her life, and she’d have it no other way.
The employees at Heritage Inn scurried around most of the day, preparing the resort to receive the thirty-two guests soon to arrive on their doorstep. She held an early supper and general meeting in the dining room.
Angie addressed the staff as soon as they cleaned the last morsel from their plates. “Good afternoon. I want to thank you all for pitching in to help today. This booking was a total surprise, but serving people is what we do best at Heritage Inn.”
They acknowledged Angie with friendly, although tired faces. She continued to build enthusiasm. “We will follow the schedule of events previously planned for the no-show group. One benefit is that instead of setting up the Christmas in July theme ourselves, we can let our guests join in the fun. I’m sure they will enjoy it. Thankfully, Pineville is ready to blast their first town event with a dance tomorrow night. We will encourage our guests to take part in the activities both here and in town. That will take the pressure off staff and provide more than enough fun for the bus group to enjoy.”
“Will the beach be open?” asked a lifeguard.
“Of course. Folks can’t come to Heritage Inn without beach time. Just follow the normal schedule we have posted. I will revise and post the shift changes on the timetable in the staff room. Hopefully, you all want overtime this month. If you’ve made outside plans, thinking you had a few days off, please come see me after the meeting so I can exclude you from the roster.”
“The guide assures us,” added Charles, “that his passengers have experienced a physically grueling holiday thus far and are ready for rest. So, relax, and do your job. Show them a terrific time – all in the spirit of Christmas.”
Cheers went up around the table. “So, please check the sheet for your new work hours. I’ll put it up tonight, but will send out emails as well to be sure you don’t miss the changes. And department heads, I depend on you to keep your team running efficiently. Happy workers make happy vacationers. Let’s do this!” Angie glanced at her cell phone. “The last text from the tour guide says the bus will arrive at 7 o’clock tonight. The kitchen is preparing a light evening meal for them. Thanks, everyone.”
Angie sighed as she headed for the door. It would be a long night.
GUESTS ARRIVE
Angie was at the reception desk when the tour bus pulled in. She glanced at Charles and the heads of staff that stood waiting nearby. “Ready, everyone?”
“We got it, Angie,” her team said collectively, giving her the thumbs up.
The door opened wide and a young man walked in. He made his way toward them. With an outstretched arm he introduced himself.
“My name is Trevor Dristoll. And not too far behind is my following, all about to invade your premises.”
“I’m Angie, the owner of Heritage Inn, and this is Charles Barker, my assistant. Welcome to the best week of your life. We look forward to showing you and your clients a wonderful time during your stay in our quaint town.”
“Best week? You realize you have a lot to live up to. We’ve seen the wonders of the world.”
“Sometimes the greatest wonder is discovered in the peaceful realm of nature, not to minimize the value of the Christmas extravaganza we have lined up.”
“Ah, yes, Christmas. I will gladly receive the peaceful part.”
His smile was polite but his tone uneasy. Angie brushed it off. Whatever suited his preferred mood was not her problem – the resort offered guests a wide-range of activities to choose from.
“You shall find an equal dose of both quiet and boisterous activity here, Mr. Dristoll.”
Angie noticed that Trevor was younger than most of the guides they’d dealt with in the past. He wore his wavy, dark hair slightly longer than the clean-cut replicas in his
