Operation Valentine (Hazel Oaks Resort Book 1)

by Kelsey McKnight

  Maybe she’d try online dating again. This date hadn’t worked out but that wasn’t the site’s fault. She had liked Chris when they were talking online. She supposed real life could’ve been like that too. Still, she couldn’t help but think being married to her job might be the closest she’d ever get. It was a good thing she loved it.

  *

  Hudson

  Hudson Dougal had stayed late at work untangling the lengths of old rock-climbing rope he’d found in a bin in one of the storage rooms. They just gotten new gear in, so he needed a place for all of the old stuff that the lodge didn’t have any use for anymore. He’d been told by another adventure coordinator that he could toss everything he didn’t need, but there were some good things in there that someone else could definitely use. Also, the Spartan Gym where he worked out could probably use some of this stuff. He’d check with his boss, but he was pretty sure he could find a good home for all the surplus.

  He’d already found a local scouting troop who could take the rope to practice tying knots and making swings. The gym had pointed them out to him and he was only too happy to help them. Having their leader come in with a gaggle of boys and girls and matching vests, all eager to earn some new badges made him grin. He never got to participate in things like that as a kid, and it always put him in a good mood to see someone doing all the fun things he wished he could have done in his youth. Like he lived through them.

  It had been past dark when he left Hazel Oaks, and he’d already had dinner in the employee cafeteria. The idea of going home to his quiet, empty apartment didn’t seem like much fun. He liked his solitude as much as the next adventurer, but he liked his solitude against the backdrop of mountains and lakes, not in small living rooms with TVs and dim lighting.

  He took the familiar path instead to a local gym he frequented after work on some days, since it was open twenty-four hours. Hudson had heard all of his adult life that he exercised enough at work that he didn’t need to do things like lift weights or run on the treadmill. But he found that he didn’t sleep well unless he was absolutely bone tired. Otherwise he’d stay up late reading or going over old maps of the woods that surrounded Lake George in search of new adventures. He just liked to be on the move.

  The gym was full, as it always was on Friday nights. He went to the main desk to swipe his card and was pleased to see his friend, the gym owner, and sometimes weightlifting buddy Ben sitting behind the counter.

  “Hey, Hudson. Long time no see. What has it been, twenty hours?” Ben asked with a laugh as he typed something into the computer.

  “It’s people like me that are keeping you in business.”

  “You gotta take a rest sometime.”

  “Yeah, when I get home. I won’t stay long, just do a few reps here and there. Anything new going on?”

  Ben shook his head and leaned his elbows on the countertop. “One of the trainers has a weird idea about a singles mixer at the gym for Valentine’s Day. She thinks she can make some good matches. I don’t know where she comes up with this stuff.”

  “A lot of couples go to the gym together.”

  “What? This isn’t a fancy restaurant; it’s a gym. People come here to work out and go home. I don’t see you making small talk over a light press.”

  “That’s because I’m not looking to meet a girl.”

  “You’re never looking to meet a girl,” Ben pointed out. “What happened to that girl you met at the grocery store?”

  Hudson shrugged. “We went out, but there was nothing there.”

  “Never is.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re a rolling stone, a lone wolf.” Ben spoke with an air of the dramatic. “You’re a tumbleweed, cannot be tamed, a—”

  He thumped his hand on the counter. “Alright, alright, I get it. But you’re lucky. If I had a girlfriend, you might not see me anymore. Then who would you talk to?”

  “Apparently the girls at the gym mixer.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  Hudson gave him a mocking salute and made his way to the locker room to exchange his hiking pants for shorts and his boots for sneakers. Then he locked his things away and put in his headphones. Rock music blared as he stretched before going to the rowing machine. Something about the rhythmic push and pull helped to clear his mind. And he felt as if he really needed it.

  He wasn’t particularly stressed or worried about anything, but there was something bothering him. He felt too at home on the shores of Lake George. While most would love to live among mountains and clear water, Hudson was beginning to feel those mountains closing in on him. Things we’re getting too comfortable for his taste, and he didn’t like the sense of familiarity he felt while driving from one place to the other, going through his usual routines. He’d even attempted to change his routes, but there really weren’t enough ways to get around for that.

  There were other places he could be besides Hazel Oaks, but he just couldn’t pick one yet. He could put in his two weeks and go backpacking down south for a while, where the weather was warmer. He could visit his friends that lived in Texas and see if he could get a job at a gym down there. Or, his favorite option, he could transfer to Hazel Oaks’s sister resort in California.

  Surf, sand, sun. He’d exchange snowmobiles for Jet Skis and ice fishing for deep sea fishing. There would be less mountain climbing and more surfing lessons. It would be a drastic change from his nearly two years in Upstate New York, but a positive one. He could get a tan, pick up some new water-based skills to add to his impressive adventure resume.

  There were just a few hitches in his plan. He wasn’t sure if he could get the job in California, especially not without a killer letter of recommendation from someone on the staff at Hazel Oaks. That resort was the jewel in George Sutton’s crown, and he only hired the best of the best. He was good but it would take some convincing to get Sutton to see that.

  As the head adventure coordinator, there weren’t many people above him to ask, or at least equal to him. There was Natalie, the concierge who didn’t seem to appreciate how witty he was. She could certainly write him a letter, but he doubted she would. Just the other day, he had organized an impromptu nature walk on the shores of the lake without telling her first, disrupting her very carefully planned schedule. He got more than a little talking to when he got back. But it wasn’t his fault the guests had rather gone out with him instead of sipping tea by the fire or going to the spa. Sure, he probably should’ve given her a heads-up, but the guests loved it and that’s what should’ve mattered.

  He finished his warm-up on the rowing machine and began wiping it down to move on to the leg press. Natalie was a tough nut to crack, and he couldn’t think of a way to make her love him like everyone else seemed to. Okay, maybe not love but at least not hate him. If she could just relax for a little bit and learn to let down the tight bun she always wore her hair in, then maybe she would see how writing a letter for him would be in everyone’s best interest. He’d get the job he wanted, and more importantly for her, he’d be out of her hair. That should actually be the beginning of his argument.

  It seemed like the perfect plan. He would find an opening to ask her about the letter and plead his case, show her how it would benefit her as well. All he needed to do was catch her in a good mood.

  At that thought, he let out a little laugh. Fat chance of that ever happening.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Nat

  Nat walked into work at Hazel Oaks Resort, pretending it was just another day in the office. Her dove-gray suit was perfectly steamed, her black patent leather heels were sensible, and her makeup was natural. Well, most of it was. Red lipstick was her signature.

  The early morning light slid in through the single window behind her standard wood desk in the tiny personal office. It overlooked the employee parking lot instead of the impressive view the guest rooms had of Lake George. But she didn’t mind much and put her purse in the little lockable drawer in the
filing cabinet in the corner beside the fake fern. She slipped off her thick black winter coat, hanging it on the hook, the only adornment on the bare walls. Then she took a seat in the firm office chair she always swore she’d upgrade one day.

  As she did every morning, she straightened up her desk, a few things partially shifted by the cleaning crew who came in some nights to dust. Nat was never one for clutter but did keep a few personal touches. There was a red-framed picture of her as a knobby kneed teen with braces beside her family in Germany and another during her father’s last year with the Air Force when they lived in Guam. A third featured her and her best friend Terry at the resort on one of their monthly karaoke nights. A collection of notebooks was color coordinated in different warm shades, held up between a set of red bookends shaped like music notes. Everything had to be perfectly straight, just so.

  She logged into her computer, clocked herself in, and then checked her email. Though she opened each one, she was just going through the motions, barely reading what each one said. The boss was coming in today. Not the hotel manager, the regional one, but the boss’s boss’s boss, George Sutton himself, the owner of Sutton Resorts.

  Nat wouldn’t necessarily call him an absent owner, but he lived in St Louis, Missouri, making the commute to Upstate New York out of the question. He always communicated with the general manager on the phone or through email. He definitely didn’t call her, let alone schedule a meeting. Until that morning at ten on the dot. She checked her watch, a gold one her father gave her when she graduated high school. Mr. Sutton would be there to see her in an hour. Time for coffee. Lots of coffee.

  Nat flicked through the last of her emails and left her office, smiling at the night shift cleaning crew who were heading out. She missed her days in housekeeping where she and the other maids would chat in the breakrooms and have informal competitions about who could sculpt what with the clean towels left on the guests’ beds. As head concierge, her work kept her from forming casual relationships with the rest of the concierges. It was how she was trained even if it did seem a little cold. And yet, she looked back fondly on the days where she could gossip and trade jokes between rooms. She certainly did not miss some of the later hours she had to keep when she was new.

  The main lobby was relatively quiet as she left the staff-only area and slipped out from behind the check-in desk. Many of the early bird guests would be at the breakfast buffet or taking yoga classes in the ballroom, which had a fantastic view of the rose garden. While the flowers weren’t in bloom so early in February, the lush, green maze still attracted its fair share of visitors.

  The main building of the resort was old, originally built as a hunting lodge more than a hundred years ago by another member of the Sutton family. The front double doors were framed on both sides by towering walls of gray stone that held matching fireplaces that crackled merrily, casting the high-beamed room in a cozy, warm glow. Everything else around her was dark wood, polished to a rich gleam. Two stories above hung a light fixture of cheerful, yellow stained glass that when on, would drape the plush, cream couches beside the fireplaces in gold.

  It always made Nat proud to say she worked there. But it was the restaurant that she really loved…and that wasn’t just because her best friend happened to be the chef.

  She passed the restaurant where the breakfast buffet was being served and scanned her keycard at a small, nondescript door that led to the back kitchens. It was a bustle of activity unseen and unheard from the hallway as the team continued to make bacon, pancakes, and press fresh orange juice. She scurried through the organized mayhem to Terry’s small office, where the door was always open.

  When Nat knocked on the wall, Terry looked up from the supply list she was reading and smiled. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  “Hey, Terry.” Nat sat in the soft red chair that faced Terry’s desk. Her friend’s messy workspace made her fingers itch with the desire to straighten papers and put things away. Of course, Terry swore she knew where everything was. In her defense, Nat had never seen her actually lose anything.

  “So, how was your big date?”

  “An absolute disaster. We’re never seeing each other again.”

  She frowned, an uncharacteristic expression. “A disaster? What happened?”

  “He took me to a cooking class.”

  “And you went without telling me? You could have taken a crash course before the big day. I would have taught you a few things, so you weren’t going in there completely blind.”

  “It wasn’t my fault. The actual date was a surprise. I really thought we were only going out to dinner.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Oh yes. And he wasn’t very nice about it when I messed up. Like, it wasn’t my fault I couldn’t convert things as quickly as he could. He’s a science teacher. It ended up feeling like I was in a lecture instead of on a date.” She slumped back in her seat. “I’m never dating again.”

  “Don’t be such a drama queen. One bad date doesn’t mean you have to be alone forever.”

  “It’s looking that way.”

  Terry rolled her eyes. “Fine, be that way. Ready for your meeting?”

  “I don’t know. How do you get ready for the unknown? What if he fires me?”

  She put her supply list down and tucked the red pen she was using behind her ear, the cap nestling in her dark curls. “That seems like an awful lot of work to fire one of the best concierges in the state.”

  “The state? Not the whole country, no, the world?”

  “My mistake,” she said with a laugh. “That seems like an awful lot of work to fire one of the best concierges in the world. Besides, Anna or Daniel would do it. It’s why he has a general manager and an assistant. Maybe he’s got a promotion for you?”

  “Again, Anna or Daniel would do that. That’s my point; it makes no sense why he’s here.” She hadn’t shared these concerns with anyone yet. Saying them out loud did nothing to help her nerves. In fact, hearing them only sent her heart rate pounding. She needed to get ahold of herself. She was confident and sure of her actions. She didn’t crumble like this. She took a deep breath and nodded her head, ready for whatever would happen. “I’m ready though.”

  “Of course you are. I think it’ll be a good thing. Now all we have to do is wait.”

  “That’s why I’m here. If I’m gonna wait, I’m gonna need a huge cup of coffee with, like, five sugars and a splash of cream.”

  “Oh good, everyone likes a shaky concierge. It instills so much faith.”

  Nat scoffed. “Actually, the coffee keeps the shakes away. It’s a weird world I live in.”

  “Then let’s get the coffee. Turn the world right.”

  They left the office and crossed over to the staff coffeepots in the corner of the room. It was far enough out of the way from the bustling kitchen staff. Terry kept her domain running like a well-oiled machine, leaving breakfast duties to one of her under chefs while she took on the more rigid dinner crowd who expected more than toast and eggs.

  Terry handed Nat one of the nondescript white mugs and filled it up about halfway from one of the coffeepots. “Is that enough room for your sugar addiction?”

  “Haha, you’re so funny. But yeah, I think it’s good. Thanks, hun.”

  “Let me know how the meeting goes. I’ll be in my office for a few more hours until the lunch staff comes into prep.”

  “I will,” Nat promised as she added sugar and cream to her mug.

  Cup in hand, Nat strolled back to her office, focusing on the wide wooden floorboards as she walked. She knew those floors like the back of her hand and the constant soothed her frayed nerves. She loved her job, made a life on the shores of Lake George in a charming shoebox of an apartment a scant ten-minute drive away. She adored her coworkers and planning unforgettable memories for complete strangers who would leave the resort with something amazing to look back on. Whatever the meeting was about, it had to go well. There was no other alternative.

  Befor
e Mr. Sutton arrived, Nat had a couple outings to organize, several reservations to make, and guests to check on. As she turned the corner to her office, she stopped in her tracks. Hudson Dougal was leaning against the wall beside the door. She groaned internally. Why was he here? She didn’t have the time or patience to deal with his teasing. She took a deep breath and put on her customer service smile. This was her job.

  “Good morning, Hudson. What can I do for you today?”

  “I have a question about my schedule. There’s a problem.”

  She pushed open her door and stepped inside. “Alright, come into my office and let me pull it up on the computer.”

  “No, it’s alright, I have a copy here.” He reached into the back pocket of the dark, olive-green pants he wore and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it, placed it on her desk and ran his forearm over the sheet, trying to unwrinkle it. After two completely useless swipes with his arm, he handed it to her.

  Nat forced the smile to stay on her face, and she took the crumpled paper from him, looking it over. It was the schedule she’d finished just the day before. She read it another two times, trying to see if there was something she missed or something that seemed out of place. She didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of him. That smug smile, those deep blue eyes, the hair in a constant state of disarray. He looked perfect and imperfect at the same time. It drove her crazy. No, she read the schedule a third time before looking up at him, finally admitting defeat.