Page 15 of Babies for the Christmas Grump

Nolan holds his hands up, pretending to surrender, though I see the corner of his mouth twitching. “Just saying, man. You’ve never been the sleeping-with-the-boss type. Didn’t think you’d go that route.”

I don’t even respond.

Instead, I just glare at him. The last thing I need right now is to deal with this. He’s right about one thing: I’ve never let anything personal interfere with my professional life.

I’ve built my career on control, on being unshakable. But then I saw her again today, and the control? It’s slipping.

I clear my throat, trying to shake off the tension. “Let’s move on. I’ve got a meeting with the department heads this morning.”

Nolan doesn’t say anything more, but I can see the smirk tugging at his lips as he leaves the room. I tell myself not to let it bother me, but the heat creeping into my ears says otherwise.

The meeting with the department heads is as chaotic as I expected.

Chef Andre is already in a full-blown tantrum about the broken oven.

“It’s impossible to create the kind of dishes we’re known for if the kitchen is out of commission!” he fumes as his hands fly onto his hips.

I nod, trying to stay composed. “I’m aware of the issue. I’ll make sure it’s resolved by the end of the day.”

“But it’s ruining everything,” he insists, his tone rising, clearly trying to force me into a corner. “You don’t understand! Without a working oven, the holiday menu is doomed!”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I understand perfectly, Chef. We’ll fix it. We’ll figure something out for tonight’s orders.”

He narrows his eyes, but at least he stops shouting.

Next, Dex.

His idea? Turning the lobby into a burlesque brunch.

I blink, wondering if I’ve misheard. “Excuse me?”

“Think about it,” Dex says, leaning forward, a wild gleam in his eyes. “We’ve got the space, the atmosphere, and, let’s face it, the guests would eat it up. The holidays are all about extravagance. Why not give them something to really talk about?”

I stare at him, trying to decide if he’s serious or if he’s just messing with me. “Dex, the last thing this hotel needs right now is that.”

His eyes shine brighter. “You’re no fun, Ryder. Imagine the press!”

I pin him with a look. “I’m not going to entertain that idea anymore. We need a plan that focuses on the hotel’s integrity, not whatever that is.”

He shrugs and leans back, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Finally, the maintenance manager, Eli.

Eli always finds the cracks in the structure. It’s why I trust him more than most.

“Ryder,” he says, evenly, “there’s a problem with the roof near the east wing. You might want to take a look.”

I frown. “What’s the issue?”

“Structural stress. It’s not visible from the ground, but we’ve got some foundation work that needs to be done before we can move forward with any renovations.”

I immediately make a note. “Get the engineers on it. I want a full report by the end of the day?—”

The door crashes open.

I don’t even have time to look up before Sunny Quinn walks in, holding a folder in front of her as if it’s the Holy Grail.

The red folder practically screams budget crisis, with a series of bright, glittery Christmas stickers plastered on it. There are doodles of snowflakes, reindeer, and, of course, sprinkles of glitter that somehow make it look even more ridiculous.