Silent Night

4 - Snowed Inn

LENA POV

"Why did you walk here? You wore heels and you walked here. Have you no sense, Lena? Any sense at all?" Michel asks in his usual dry, dramatic way as I am in the kitchen wiping down my ice and snow covered heels.

It's true I should not have walked to my inn this morning, but my driveway was not shoveled. I couldn't get my jeep out, and I was over being home as I had been out of work for almost a week now. I did, however, make the mistake of walking in my dress heels when I should have bagged them and wore my snow boots.

After Frankie had set me up with snacks, magazines and even asked Bobby to carry my TV up to my room, I had hunkered down in my bed for the long haul, forgetting the outside world until I woke up to see we had a snowstorm overnight.

I am currently annoyed because the snow rugs weren't put down yet because they were on back order, and it was generally unsafe in our lobby which I needed to rectify and soon.

"I was snowed in, okay? Plus, I'd think you'd be happy I showed up to work today, Michel. You only blew up my phone with a play by play every single day I was out."

"No, I am not happy. If it had been me, you'd have put me in the unemployment line leaving me to beg for bread. I do not know why you and Sierra get your way with this place. No respect for me and all that I do for this place. I did, however, complain to Daryl about the snow rugs. I told him that if anyone broke their neck, he gets to pay for their hospital bill," the dark skinned French man complains as Sierra walks out of the cooler with her arms full of lemons.

"Michel! Stop being melodramatic! Of course, we're happy Lena showed up to work! Have a scone!"

"No! You are trying to make me fat! I do not eat scones unless it is fat day. Is today fat day, Sierra? Did you perhaps look at your calendar and see that it is fat day?"

"Michel, maybe it should be fat day," I sigh as I take a scone myself as he rolls his eyes at me.

"I will now go away. Far, far away," he scowls as I can only roll my eyes back before pouring myself a cup of coffee but only getting half a cup before heading towards the storage room to look for more coffee only to find none.

"Sierra? Where's all the coffee? We HAVE to have coffee for our customers!"

"Oh, the rest of it is in this pot, but it's for them. You shouldn't drink any, Lena."

"No rugs! No coffee! Why is this place going to hell while I'm gone?????"

"It's not, Lena! It's okay! Breathe!" Sierra sets down her knife and grabs my hands. "We got this. Just sometimes things are on back order, and the coffee and snow rugs are some of those things."

"SOME? SOME? Sierra! We're going to get bad reviews if we don't fix this! We HAVE to fix this!"

"It's all taken care of," she picks up her knife and swipes it in the air. "I was on the phone this morning with the supplier, and a shipment of our coffee is on its way."

"So, what's with all the lemons?" I ask casually as I pour in some cream to my half cup of coffee which has already begun to cool.

"Oh? These? I'm making lemon meringue pie for tonight's dinner. Jackson got a good deal on them, and I couldn't pass them up," she smiles as she begins cutting the lemons.

"Nice," I say as there is a lull of awkward silence before Michel marches back into the kitchen, a scowl on his face.

"The phone is for you, Lena. I am not your voicemail. Please come to the desk and talk to whoever it is," his accent annoys me now as I can't help but want to smack the victim mentality from his face. He made the biggest things about the smallest of things, and while I usually ignored it, today, it's grating on my last nerve.