Peter's boots crunched in last night's rare snowfall as he made his way towards the hotel. His breath billowed out before him in white puffs. He was in high spirits today, enjoying the time away from the office and the crisp, sunny December morning. There was another reason entirely for the gleam in his eye and the wry smile that found its way onto his face, but he did his best to push that aside for the time being.
The smile that graced his face as he made his way into the lobby reflected a deep fondness. This was one of his favorite accounts. The old hotel was a true testament to good taste and class, decorated in burgundy velvets, gold brocades and twinkling white lights. Soft strains of music greeted him: classical renditions of Christmas carols. The air carried a distinct holiday scent that emanated from the full Scotch Pine that nearly brushed the ceiling in the center of the lobby and the evergreen boughs draped across the mantle and reception desk.
"Hello Colonel!" he greeted the stately gentleman behind the desk.
"Why, hello young Peter!" the older man beamed. "I'm delighted to see you today! I've made notes of some extras I'd like to see added to the database." Pulling a pair of half framed spectacles from his breast pocket, he deftly drew out a glowing screen and keyboard from beneath the solid wooden countertop. His fingers moved slowly and deliberately. Peter moved behind the counter, scanning the lists and notes, chuckling to himself. The Colonel had come a long ways since he'd first been introduced to a computerized system and had indeed been the key element in honing the entire front desk duties into a neatly organized and highly functional protocol.
The two men had hashed out the details and were now caught up in some casual but clever banter, not really noticing as the maid strode into the Lobby from the West wing. She paused, smiling widely at the pair with their heads together sharing a chuckle at some pattern or other they'd found in the booking data.
"Hording the Whiz-Kid again, are you, Colonel?" she chided, placing one fist on her hip.
"Not at all, my Dear! As a matter of fact we were just waiting for you to make an appearance."
"What an understatement that was," Peter thought to himself, drinking in the woman in front of him. She looked largely as she always did. A rather short woman in a black maid's uniform, dark hair done up in a bun, brown eyes twinkling with intelligence and some degree of mischief. Winter found her in high-heeled lace up boots that ended just above her ankles. For the holidays, she had apparently added a black velvet choker decorated with a small sprig on the left side (mistletoe?).
"Come along then," she said smiling, "We've got our own work to do."
"Sorry, Colonel," Peter shrugged, "I guess you've been outranked."
