A Steele Christmas
A Steele ChristmasThey decided to check into the hotel upon their arrival, and as he and Laura entered the Swiss chalet styled building, Remington bit back a groan. "The place looks like the bloody North Pole," he muttered.
Laura, however, was entranced by the lights and tinsel, in the midst of which stood an enormous Christmas tree, complete with an angel on the top and presents under it's branches. "It's beautiful," she sighed.
Remington shook his head and took her arm, returning her attention to the desk, where a clerk was waiting for them with a welcoming smile. "May I help you?"
"Remington Steele. I believe I have a reservation." He was determined to ignore the sprig of holly affixed to the man's jacket.
The man checked his book. "Ah, yes. Suite 217." He turned the ledger toward Remington. "If you please, Mr. Steele," he said, and noticed Laura's lingering gaze on the Christmas tree. "Impressive, isn't it?"
"Umm," she agreed.
"Biggest indoor tree in Aspen," he told her proudly. "There's a bigger one down the road, but it's outside."
"That's where trees belong," Remington commented. "How's the skiing?"
"Just had three new inches last night," the man said.
"And the bunny slope?" Remington queried. When the clerk gave him a sideways glance, he smiled, indicating Laura. "For her. She's a novice skier." He put his arm around her waist to get her attention. "Isn't that right, dear?"
"Oh, yes. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine was here last year, and simply raved about one of your instructors. A Lars Milkin?"
The clerk's face was apologetic. "I'm sorry. Lars took the holiday off this year. He's planning on getting married in a few days, I think."
"Oh. What a pity," Laura said, and when the clerk looked surprised, she added, "Oh, not that he's getting married. It's a pity that he's not here to help me with my form."
The clerk nodded, handing the keys for the suite to Remington as he rang for a bellhop. "Suite 217, George." He smiled at Laura. "We're having a Christmas Eve party tonight. You're both more than welcome to attend."
"We'll think about it," Remington promised, turning Laura toward the elevator. "Let's get upstairs, then find Joy Noel as soon as we can so we can get out of here," he said to her under his breath. All this Christmas gaiety was a bit overwhelming.
"I don't know, Mr. Steele," Laura said as the elevator doors opened for them. "I rather like the atmosphere."
The doors closed, and as he listened to the generic Christmas music coming over the speakers, Remington frowned. "You would."
Their suite consisted of two rooms, two baths, and a joint sitting room between them. There was a smaller version of the tree downstairs in one corner of the sitting room, beside a fireplace. "A roaring fire, eh?" he asked Laura. She smiled at him. "Which room would you prefer?"
"It doesn't matter," she told him.
"That bag goes in there," Remington told the bellhop, pointing to the left bedroom. "The other two go in the other room."
Laura shook her head. "We're here for probably two days, and you brought two suitcases."
He shrugged as the young man returned, then gave him a tip. "Thank you."
The bellboy grinned widely as he saw the tip. "Thank you, sir. If you need anything else, just ask for George."
"As a matter of fact, there might be something you can do, at that. Do you happen to know a ski instructor that works here named Lars Milkin?"
"Sure, I know Lars. He's not here, though."
"So the clerk downstairs told us. Would you happen to know where he is?"
"With his girlfriend, I guess. Lucky dog."
Remington shared his laughter, as Laura tried to look bored. "Oh, well. My friend here wanted to see if he could give her some help with her form," he said.
George glanced at Laura, who was examining the Christmas tree. "Don't think her form needs any help," he commented quietly.
Remington smiled in silent agreement. "Well, thank you anyway."
"Anytime. Sorry I couldn't be any help."
Remington saw him out, then turned to look at Laura. "Looks as if this is gong to be more difficult than we thought," he commented.
"Well, we'll have some lunch, then hit the slopes to ask some of the others if they know where Lars might be."
As she started for the door, Remington hung back. "Do we HAVE to go back down into that Christmas nightmare?"
"Why Mr. Steele. You sound almost like a Scrooge." She took his arm. "Come on, Ebenezer, let's get started making those happy memories, shall we?"
"A Christmas Carol." He said. "Several versions over the years, but my personal favorite starred Reginald Owen, Gene Lockhart. M-G-M, 19-1938."
"Just think of me as the Ghost of Christmas Present," she told him, taking his hand and pulling him toward the door.
"Bah, humbug," he said, but he followed her to the elevator.
***
Laura returned to their rooms, laughing. "I'd forgotten how much I love to ski," she told him.
He sighed. "I thought the idea was to make them think you needed Lars Milkin's tutelage," he said. "I don't think taking that downhill as if you were in training for the Olympics was an aid to that."
"He's not here," Laura reminded him as she removed her jacket. "Everyone we talked to told us that he was taking a few weeks off- and couldn't tell us where he'd gone."
He removed his jacket as well, tossing to over the back of a chair before sitting down. "Was fun, though, wasn't it?"
"Hmm," she agreed, joining him on the sofa.
"What do you say that we skip the frivolity downstairs and order supper from room service?" he suggested, pulling her close. "We could start the fire, enjoy the evening, just the two of us."
"Sounds lovely," Laura agreed. "How about a compromise?"
"A compromise?"
"Well, I heard someone talking earlier about a gathering in the lobby at the tree before dinner. Something about singing carols."
"Oh, Laura," Remington began, but Laura interrupted.
"We'll go down," she said, turning toward him, "then come back up here for a nice, intimate dinner." She ended her sentence with a kiss that left Remington wanting more. Of course, he always wanted more when it came to this woman. Five years and he still found her as delightful as he had the first day.
"I'm not about to turn down that offer, Miss Holt," he told her.
"And no 'Bah Humbugs'," she told him.
"Not even one?" he asked.
"None," she reiterated. "And I want your word."
"My word, eh?" he repeated.
"Everyone knows that Remington Steele's word is his bond," she reminded him. "And if you give me your word, I'll believe it."
"You know, that's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me, Laura. Very well. I'll put old Ebenezer to bed."
"Good," Laura said. She rose slowly and headed toward her room. "Why don't you order dinner for later while I take a shower and change into something more appropriate?"
"Oh, I don't know. You make a very nice snow bunny," he told her with a grin.
"No. Not much of a Christmas person, I suppose."
"Oh. I heard from Lars Milkin this afternoon."
"You did?"
"He said that he was staying with his friend at her place in town. He's planning on getting married in a couple of days, asked me to be a witness."
"Thank you," Remington said, rejoining Laura. He pulled her aside as the song ended. "George heard from Lars," he told her.
"He did?"
"Apparently Mr. Noel's neighbors aren't very observant. Lars told his friend that he was staying in town at his lady friend's house."
"I suppose we could go over there tonight," she told him. "But what about our plans?"
"I thought you wanted to get back to Los Angeles to spend Christmas with your family?" he said.
"I can still do that- we'll just get up early tomorrow and go over to Mr. Noel's house- talk to Joy and Lars, then catch the first flight back. It should still put us back home in time for dinner at Frances and Donald's."
"Us?"