The night before, she’d sat in front of the window and watched as the sun set behind Turtleback Mountain, turning the sky from a smattering of orange and red, to yellow, and finally a glowing blue.

It was a perfect place, better than a dream. Claire leaned out of the window and closed her eyes.

There was a knock at the door. “Housekeeping!”

Did housekeeping always come this early? She leaned forward to grab her watch from the desk and startled at the time. It was nearly nine o’clock!

She’d promised to be out by eight so that housekeeping could get the room ready for the next paying customer.

“Just a few minutes, please!” Claire called out. She was supposed to meet the general manager, Charles – or did he go by Chip? – at nine for their first formal appointment. He’d been out the week prior visiting family for the holidays, and she was excited to finally talk to him.

Claire needed to make a good impression on Chip. The previous owner, Steve, said that the hotel lived and died by the manager’s orders.

She got dressed and hastily threw her bag together, slinging it over her shoulder before catching the elevator down to the lobby.

This was perhaps her favorite spot in the hotel. Everything about it just felt right – the sleek marble floors, the art deco furniture, the chandelier that hung over the elegant, sweeping staircase.

Most miraculously of all, this stunning place was hers.

Gigi was manning the front desk – sort of. Her head was bowed down, eyes fixed on her cell phone, and all Claire could see was her black hair.

Claire walked up to the desk, apparently unnoticed, and cleared her throat. Gigi looked up from her phone before letting out a sigh. “Good morning.”

“Good morning!” Claire said as she heaved her bag onto the table. “Would you be able to store this for me? I’m not sure if my next room is ready yet.”

Gigi looked at the computer screen, clicking away. “Doesn’t look like it. I can let you know when it is.”

“Thanks Gigi. Oh! Have you seen Charles around?”

Gigi frowned. “Do you mean Chip?”

“Er – yes. I wasn’t sure everyone called him that, or if it was just a nickname that Steve had made up.”

“No one ever calls him Charles,” she said flatly. “That won’t win you any points.”

Claire smiled. “Got it. Have you seen Chip, then?”

“I don’t think so,” she said with a shrug.

Claire could tell that Gigi was quickly losing interest in this conversation – if she ever had any interest in it to begin with. “I’ll see if I can find him. Will you please call me when my new room is ready?”

“It’s going to be a while. Housekeeping fell behind this morning.”

News traveled fast, didn’t it? “Ah, sure. No problem. I’ll wait for your call.”