The Perfect Christmas. Kate Forster
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like they had something to go home to, and Maggie put her hand up against the cold glass of the window.
What did she have to return to after this trip? she wondered.
The car pulled up in front of the hotel and the driver jumped from it as a valet opened the door.
‘Welcome to The Dorchester,’ he said with a polite smile.
‘Hi,’ said Maggie as she shivered in her thin coat. ‘God, it’s freezing! Is it going to snow?’ she asked him.
‘There is snow predicted,’ he said and Maggie grabbed Zoe’s arm.
‘Snow, did you hear that? Snow is predicted.’
‘You hate the snow,’ said Zoe, shaking her head.
‘I hate American snow, I love British snow,’ corrected Maggie, as she stepped inside the hotel.
A young brunette woman in a neat navy suit was smiling at them, her hands clasped in front of her.
‘Good evening, I’m Holly. I’m your personal concierge while you stay with us,’ she said.
Maggie picked up just a hint of nerves in the pretty girl’s voice. ‘Holly? What a perfect Christmas name,’ she said. ‘I’m Maggie and this is Zoe.’
The girl smiled. This time she was clearly less nervous, Maggie noted.
Zoe smiled and shook the girl’s hand. ‘Can you get me a cord adaptor for my laptop?’
‘Of course,’ said Holly and Maggie felt like punching Zoe in the arm.
Holly gestured to a bellboy who had their luggage on a rack in the blink of an eye.
‘Let me take you to your room,’ she said as she led them to a private elevator. ‘What are your plans while you’re in London?’ She pressed a button and swiped the security screen with a tag attached to the inside of her jacket.
‘Shopping, shopping, maybe some sightseeing. I don’t know, what should we do?’ asked Maggie.
‘So this trip is just for pleasure, no business?’ asked Holly.
‘Just pleasure,’ said Maggie firmly and glared at Zoe, who rolled her eyes in retort.
‘Then I can suggest some activities for you,’ said Holly, ‘And I can make all the arrangements.’
‘That sounds fantastic,’ said Maggie as the elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the suite.
Even Zoe was silent as she took in the elegant surroundings of the room. The plush rugs, the wingbacked chairs, draped curtains, flower-filled vases on almost every surface…
‘We have taken the liberty of upgrading you both, since it’s Christmas and you’re VIP guests.’
‘Thank you!’ said Maggie and Zoe simultaneously.
‘Have you plans for dinner?’ asked Holly. ‘Would you like me to make some recommendations for local restaurants? Or I could organize you some room service? Or make you a reservation at one of the restaurants downstairs?’
Maggie looked at Zoe. ‘I’m hungry, are you? Shall we go downstairs?’
Zoe nodded, ‘Yes, I need a steak and a glass of red.’
‘Let me organize that for you, then I can unpack your luggage if you wish,’ Holly offered.
‘I wish,’ said Zoe. ‘Thank you, that would be great.’
***
Less than ten minutes later, the women were ensconced in a small booth in a corner of The Grill.
Zoe was already nursing a lovely glass of Shiraz and Maggie was having a vodka, lime and soda.
‘Okay, I have to admit, sitting here while our things are being unpacked is very civilized,’ said Zoe.
‘It’s a funny job for a young girl to have, isn’t it?’ Maggie ran her finger around the condensation of the glass.
Zoe shrugged. ‘You mean Holly? I don’t know, maybe she plans to work her way up and become a personal assistant to a royal or something. I’m sure Kate Middleton doesn’t unpack her own bags.’
‘Maybe,’ said Maggie, as she watched the people in the restaurant engrossed in conversation. Well-dressed men and women entered, their faces flushed red from the cold, taking off expensive coats and gloves and ordering decadent meals and bottles of wine.
The hum of conversation and laughter tickled the back of Maggie’s neck. ‘Isn’t it all so gorgeous?’ she asked as she smiled at Zoe.
Zoe laughed. ‘Of course it’s gorgeous. You’re in one of the best hotels in London, watching beautiful people without a care in the world. What’s not gorgeous about that?’
‘Bah humbug,’ said Maggie, as a waiter came to their table.
‘Good evening, have you decided on the menu?’ he asked.
Maggie hadn’t, but handed it back to him.
‘A green salad, some balsamic on the side please,’ she said.
Zoe handed him her menu. ‘Steak, medium rare, fries and a salad,’ she said.
‘I’m jealous,’ said Maggie.
‘Then eat,’ said Zoe, ‘I thought you were going to enjoy everything London has to offer.’
‘Yes, but then it will take weeks to get off London’s offerings in spin classes and juice cleanses.’
Maggie sighed. Being thin wasn’t something that just happened, it required work and discipline and saying no to delicious things like fries and red wine.
They chatted amiably over their meals, Maggie managing to only steal a few fries from Zoe’s plate.
As they wandered back to their suite, they saw Holly behind the front desk, talking to a man in a suit.
‘She’s blushing when she talks to him,’ whispered Maggie.
‘Maybe they’re having an office romance,’ said Zoe, glancing at them and then back to her phone.
‘He’s cute,’ said Maggie as she pulled Zoe by the arm over to the desk.
‘What are you doing?’ whispered Zoe.
But Maggie wasn’t listening.
‘Holly, I just wanted to mention how delicious dinner was and thank you for organizing the table so quickly.’ Maggie leaned on the front desk and put her hand out to the man.
‘Hi, I’m Maggie Hall,’ she said and read his name badge. ‘Jack Frost? You’re the manager? You’re kidding, right?’ she started to laugh as he took her hand.
‘No I’m afraid not, it’s my name,’ he said politely, but Maggie saw a twinkle of humour in his eyes.
‘Holly has done a great job of welcoming us to your beautiful hotel,’ said Maggie as Holly’s blush deepened.
‘That’s excellent,’ said Jack and even Zoe noticed the way he looked at the young woman.
‘Can I do anything for you this evening?’ Holly asked.
Maggie smiled. ‘Maybe you can come and draw a bath for me? I’m jet-lagged, I think.’
‘Of course,’ said Holly.
Maggie and Zoe went on up to their suite.
‘Draw you a bath?’ laughed Zoe as they got into the elevator. ‘Since when do you use the term “draw a bath”, and why can’t you turn on your own taps?’
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