Page 62 of The Relationship Clause

That is the end of the riveting conversation. None of us say another word until my dad finally returns.

“Alright, here’s your new room cards, but don’t rest too long. Try to hit the slopes if you can. I didn’t bring us here so you can—”

“Treat this place like a bed and breakfast, I know,” I say through gritted teeth. The elevator doors open, letting a few people out, and it is the biggest blessing of the century. “See you at dinner,” I say, pulling Junie into the elevator with me.

Inside, I mash the button to close the doors, and then it’s just the two of us going up, up, up.

CHAPTER 19

JUNIE

I shouldn’t have come. I should not have come.

I should have stayed in South Carolina and pretended I knew how to put tile on a kitchen backsplash. It wouldn’t have been as cool as Vail, but it would have been way safer.

I never would have had to relive that memory of sledding with my parents. More than that, I never would have shared any of it with Mr. Ferguson.

Here’s the thing:

I know I promised Mr. Ferguson he’d get more Juniper this weekend, but I don’t even think I know how to be Juniper anymore. Not one hundred percent anyway. I’ve been hiding behind so many walls for so much of my life, I think I’ve forgotten how to let them all down. Which, in a way, is just as well since I don’t want to let any of them down.

But at the same time, I did promise…

I’m just not ready. Yes, I can admit I want more connection in my life, but I’m not going to do anything about it. Not right now. Not today. Certainly not this weekend.

That’s why the word for this vacation is BALANCE. I must find that perfect little sweet spot. A little bit of Miss Cousins mixed with the right amount of Juniper to make Mr. Ferguson happy. In other words: Junie on Vacation. Yeah, that’s it. I’ve got to be Junie on Vacation. That should be simple enough, right? And, if I play my cards well enough, it should satisfy Mr. Ferguson too.

The elevator ride up to our suite seems to take forever and a day, but at last, it slows to a stop. It opens, and I’m shocked to find not a long hallway leading to dozens of doors, but a short, fresh-flower-and-crystal-filled hallway leading to a single mahogany door. It feels like a mistake, but Owen strides out of the elevator like this is exactly what he expected. I scurry after him as he inserts a key card into the door and opens it wide to let me in first. My jaw drops.

The suite is immaculate with dark wood, rich leathers, and a full-service kitchen with quartz counter tops. All the ceilings are at least nine feet tall, and there are more fresh flowers waiting in several vases around the space. Where are they getting fresh flowers in the dead of February? There’s also a fire going in the immense stone fireplace, and somehow, our luggage made it up here before we did. It’s sitting in the entryway like it floated up and arranged itself just so.

The closest bouquet of flowers, pink and white roses, have a note nestled within the creamy petals. Without thinking, I pick it up and turn it over.

The Ritz-Carlton at Bachelor Gulch would like to thank you for choosing us to be your host this Valentine’s weekend. If there’s anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask.

My heartbeat kicks up a notch as the gravity of the situation hits me all over again.

This is our suite. And this suite most likely only has one bedroom. Singular. One room for the two of us. I should have thought of this before now, but I’d been so distracted with other things that it didn’t occur to me.

Does one room mean one bed? It probably does, being that this is a hotel and his dad thinks we’re a couple. I can feel a full-body flush coming on, starting at the tips of my toes and creeping all the way up my body and throughout my extremities. My skin probably matches my hair color.

Sleeping in the same bed as Mr. Ferguson?

Nope. Can’t handle that.

I’m in the prelims of having a full-blown, internal freak-out and panic attack when Mr. Ferguson speaks.

“So, I figure I’ll take the couch, and you can have the room to yourself. Is that cool with you?”

Oh.

Right. Of course he would offer that. I mean, that’s totally what I was expecting was going to happen. He’s a gentleman and all that. I wasn’t at all, in any way, imagining the two of us being forced to snuggle up under the covers together. Things like that don’t happen in real life.

Although…

If the power went out in the entire lodge, it would be totally understandable for us to share a bed. Because, you know, body heat and all that. But that’s the ONLY time I could see us needing to share a bed.

I press my lips together in an awkward smile and nod like a bobblehead at Mr. Ferguson. “Yeah, sounds good. Cool, totally cool.”

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