I’m a patient person. I really am. I’m also convinced that I can actually handle stressful situations really well. I’m used to it, really. I’m also kind and open. I have to be, running a small but well loved hotel in rural Ireland while simultaneously working as an author.

I can do calm, patient, and collected.

Well, at least I’ve always thought I can. The past 24 hours proved me wrong.

The plan was to spend the holidays with my boyfriend. He would host his first Christmas dinner for his family and I planned to help. We don’t see each other that often – me having a small business and him being the successful actor that he is. But we try to make long-distance work. Sometimes, he comes to Ireland once or twice a month. Sometimes, I come to London, mostly trying to combine it with work just to spend more than a weekend with him.

That’s actually how we met. I did a reading about one and a half years ago at a charity project for children in the hospital, and Tom was there for the same reason, acting for and visiting the small children there.

I was immediately smitten (of course), and he was as well. At least, that’s what he always tells me, that stupid charmer.

The stupid charmer who’s currently cross with me. Mad at me. Furious. Not that I actually know, because I haven’t heard from him since yesterday.

Which brings me to the fact that I’m actually, maybe, eventually not as calm, patient, and collected as I always thought.

It all started with Tom wanting to host Christmas dinner at his new house for the first time. I wanted to help (and actually spend Christmas with him, of course). I wanted to get there on the 23rd – yesterday – and stay until the 27th, with us going back to Ireland together for New Year’s Eve.

I mean , yes, the hotel was supposed to be full, but my brother Michael and his wife – my best friend – Michelle are usually able to handle everything with the staff that’s there to help. The manager, night manager, cooks and cleaning ladies.

Through some sort of twisted Christmas nightmare though, our staff went out together and all managed to eat something that gave them food poisoning.

And now, we have a full house while the three people not sick – me, Michael, and Michelle – manage the tasks of usually nine. Cooking, cleaning, reception and being there for the guests.

Which – you probably guessed – means I can’t travel to Hampshire and spend Christmas with my boyfriend. I left Tom hanging, because I can’t leave my hotel and family hanging.

“Dev?” my brother calls from the hallway and knocks on the door of the office, where I’m currently staring at my phone, willing it to ring and for Tom to call me back.

“Coming!” I yell back, a little louder and probably a bit more annoyed than I actually mean.

Tom’s been fine yesterday. Too fine. I knew he’d be mad at me. Yesterday, he got all quiet, but told me it would be okay. He would join me on the 27th. But where’s the fun in that? I’ll probably still be busy then.

And now, he won’t answer his phone. That’s okay, it’s Christmas Eve and he’s busy. But he also doesn’t call me back.

Damn. He’s mad.
***

I’m done. I don’t want to anymore. I’m sitting on the chair in the lobby, trying to be a good night manager. But I’m so tired. Pouring my fifth cup of coffee, I stare at my phone that still doesn’t ring.

I scoff. Tom definitely had more fun playing the night manager. Who would think that it’s actually not that exciting? We can’t all be stars and spies now, can we?

I know there’s a smile on my face when I think of him. It’s automatic. I know, I know. It sounds cheesy and horrible, but I can’t help it.

He uses to say he’s going to quit his acting job, because, “Darling, I’ve played a night manager before, how hard can it actually be?”.

Well, Mr Hiddleston, it’s effing boring without gun dealers or drunks to tend to.

Also, he shouldn’t quit acting. Not only would he be unhappy, but also I’d be killed by a group of angry fangirls.

I admit, I shriek a little when I see lights outside the hotel. It’s a small town, and there aren’t any guests arriving at – I look at my watch – 1.30 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. Especially not on Christmas day.

Maybe I should wake up Michael? No. He was awake for almost 24 hours, I should let him sleep. And if I get killed by a serial killer, at least the town has something to talk about.

A few minutes later, there’s a shadow outside and then suddenly – or not so suddenly, because I saw the lights – the door to the hotel slides open and I let out another shriek.

“Hi, Darling.”

That can’t be. He’s supposed to be mad at me. Damn, he’s not even supposed to be here. Oh, god, did he come here to break up with me in person? Would he call me ‘darling’ then?

“Dev?”

“Tom?” I mean, I need to be sure.

“Well, yes.”

And then he’s striding down the hall and up to the reception, where I’m still sitting, a little dumbfounded to be honest.

He looks good. Snuggled up in a fluffy jacket, and a scarf. I bet he smells good, too.

Tom stops at the desk, leaning against it with his arms on the top. “Hello, again. It’s not quite the greeting I’ve expected, if I’m honest.”

I’m still not standing up. This can’t be real. “Are you here to break up with me?”

Tom stares at me, and then chuckles. I’m not joking, though. “I’m here to help, Dev.”

“But… but…”

“No but. Can you properly say hello to me now? Please? I’ve missed you.”

I’m out of my chair in seconds – Yes, I know I could have been in his arms for some minutes now – and round the desk to hug him.

Tom holds me tight and scoops me up. “I love you,” he mumbles.

“I love you too, but…”

“No,” he mumbles into my neck.

“Your dinner,” I mumble back, but I’m not sure, if I really care.

“I bought the food, left it at the house and told my family they could spend their Christmas there,” he chuckles and shakes my body with his giggles.

“You’re crazy.”

“I just want to spend my time with you. And I want to help.”

Tom lets go of me, but then leans in instead to give me a kiss. God, I missed him.

“I told you before, you can’t actually be a night manager.”

Tom laughs. “I know. But I can clean and tidy, and I can help and entertain the guests. And you maybe.”

“I like to be entertained.”

“I know.”

Tom winks and then picks up his little suitcase, before he takes my hand and leads me towards the office. “Prepare to be entertained a lot.”