Page 19 of Cooped Up for Christmas

“Small servings?” Wren grinned at me. I realized this was the first time I’d seen her smile. I suspected, maybe, this would be her favorite thing that happened all week. “Very small.” I winked, and she winked back.

Suddenly, we were not boss and minion. We were collaborators, and somehow, for some reason, that created a bond. It was nice.

When the guests returned from dinner, it was late, and most of the staff had gone to bed in preparation for the big snow day tomorrow. Only Wren, Ben, and I were still awake to greet them.

It seemed that their numbers had swelled.

The teens, as always, plowed past us into the great room to the TV—which was playing—hoorah!—YouTube. I tried to do a quick head count but got lost at ten.

“Did you have a nice dinner?” I asked Whit.

“Shore did.” He patted his stomach. “We ran into some friends. I hope it’s okay that we brought them back.”

Back?

Yikes.

“How many?”

“Five. Two adults and three kids.”

Egads. Five more beds? We had extra bunks, but they were in the (creepy) storage shed, which would require schlepping them over—probably not a job for Wren, all things considered. And then, of course, we’d have to make the beds. How long would all that take?

I smiled brightly. “Sure. No problem. When do you all think you’ll want to turn in?”

He grinned sheepishly. “We’re pretty tuckered.”

So, now.

Great.

Awesome.

“No worries.” I turned to Ben and let him know what we needed. He nodded and headed to the staff lodge to get Jed to help him. Wren and I headed upstairs to determine where the beds would be set and to find five extra sets of clean sheets and pillows. She didn’t need supervising once we decided which rooms could accommodate extra beds, so I headed back downstairs to see if anyone else needed anything.

Other than Carmella, and her Don Julio, there were no taxing requests. Still, my heart thudded as I watched her take the first sip, as everyone looked on. Her expression tightened. Her mouth puckered, and she gusted a deep, satisfied sigh. “Ah, Don Julio 1942,” she said. “Always the best.”

“Would you like some more?” I asked.

Her smile gave me the sudden feeling I was her new best friend. “Oh, please.”

Once Carmella started drinking, the other adults joined in—thank God not asking for the precious nectar of agave. Whit and Sabine favored whiskey and the others were martini people. Pretty soon it was a full blown cocktail party. If by cocktail party you mean the adults boozing it up on one end of the room while the kids fight over the remote on the other.

The early night Whit had so teasingly promised never materialized.

I sent Wren and Ben to bed at midnight and stayed up with the guests until slowly, one by one, the adults drifted upstairs, leaving the kids alone.

At that point, I had the blood-curdling realization that I had suddenly become a chaperone for someone else’s children, which was a job I did not want. I also felt decidedly out of place. The kids kept looking over their shoulder at me, as though waiting for me to leave, or maybe grow a second nose. But I couldn’t leave. Not until they went to bed. It was my job to stay up in case they needed anything. No matter how long it took.

Yay. I love my job!

Finally, they all decided it was time for bed, and headed up the stairs. I’m not gonna lie and say I wasn’t relieved. It had been a long day, and I was bushed. I did a quick tidy up of the great room and the bar, and then headed for bed, where I dropped, fully clothed.

* * *

“Wake up!” Someone hissed in my ear in the middle of a warm and fuzzy dream about a tall, handsome someone with mint-flavored breath and a crooked smile.

“G’way,” I responded. I didn’t want to wake up.