Page 29 of Fire Peak

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On Saturday nights, the Fire Peak Lodge restaurant opened its reservations to people who weren’t staying at the lodge. Although April had established that policy to answer accusations of elitism, very few locals made the drive up the mountain. But tourists who were staying at other inns or rentals jumped to make reservations.

The influx of unfamiliar diners still made Charlie nervous, even though a month had passed with no alarm bells going off. She’d tried her damnedest to get out of working on Saturday nights, but it generally got so busy that it was considered an all-hands-on-deck situation. No way out.

The doors opened at six, and by seven, Charlie’s face ached with the effort of smiling. She’d read once that involuntary smiles and forced smiles used different muscles. If that was the case, her fake smiles were sadly out of practice.

She wore a black mid-calf halter dress in clinging silk jersey that she always packed, no matter where she went in the world. No heels, because her feet would disown her if she put them through that. Instead, she wore strappy sandals with a cushiony sole. Her hair was pulled into a messy low bun, and she’d even dabbed on some lip gloss. April wanted to set a certain tone, one that justified the prices of the Saturday night tasting menu. For April, she’d play the part as requested. After all, how many bosses paid in cash and never asked questions? At least, how many non-criminal bosses would do that?

The restaurant hummed with happy chatter. Most of the tables were inside, but when the weather was nice, like tonight, the staff set up tables on the deck, which had an even better view of the soaring upper slope of Fire Peak and the valley below. The lodge was only partway up the mountain, but that was plenty to offer breathtaking vistas every direction you turned.

Another hour to go until they stopped letting people in. She swept her gaze down the reservations list, but didn’t recognize any of the names. There could still be walk-ins, so she was keeping a sharp eye on the foyer through which guests entered.

Good thing, too. As she checked the foyer for the hundredth time, a tall figure with dark hair stepped into her field of vision.

Nick Perini. No doubt about it.

He had come back to Firelight Ridge. And wow, did he look good in his black leather jacket over a black t-shirt. A girl was with him; he was saying something to her as he pushed open the door, which was the only reason he hadn’t spotted Charlie.

Hailey looked exactly like the photos he’d shown her. So at least he hadn’t been lying about that. But she still didn’t want him to see her.

She dropped to the floor behind the hostess stand, which was located a few feet from the end of the bar. On hands and knees, she crawled across the floor to the safety of the bar. Raoul was on duty tonight. He was from New Orleans, and always introduced himself as “let the good times Raoul.”

“Raoul,” she hissed, tugging at his pants leg. “Don’t look down.”

He looked down. She glared at him and whacked him lightly on the calf. “Look back up. Pretend you didn’t see me. I have an emergency. Can you keep an eye on the hostess stand?”

“Are you hidin’ from that tall drink of water?” he drawled. “Not so sure I want to aid and abet avoiding a snack like him.”

“Raoul.”

“Yes, yes. I got you. Watch out for those olives I dropped.”

Too late. Charlie had already squished one under the heel of her hand. She kept going until she reached the swinging door that led into the kitchen, praying no one was about to exit and bonk her on the head.

She snuck safely through the door, then rose to her feet to face Graciela, who was hanging onto a tray of dinner orders with white-knuckled hands—she must have nearly tripped over Charlie.

“Sorry,” Charlie muttered. “Emergency. You can have my share of the tips tonight.”

The entire kitchen crew watched as she dashed toward the back door, which led to the storage room, then to the utilities area out back, where an enormous propane tank, a solar array, and a greenhouse were located. Beyond that was a network of trails that wound through the woods.

But she wasn’t about to scamper through the forest in her little black dress and sandals, no matter how comfortable they were. This was her territory. She knew the layout of Fire Peak Lodge better than Nick. All she had to do was duck into the gear shed, where all the fishing rods and nets were stored, along with boots for guests who’d forgotten to bring some, and snowshoes for when the snow came before the lodge had closed. The place was a jumble of random items and anyone who peeked in would turn right around and walk away.

As she dashed across the back lawn toward the gear shed, the wind that blew from the ridge filled her with energy. She generally loved that wind, loved the way it carried a song of wild adventure from afar. But right now, she wished it to the devil and back as it tugged her hair out of its loose knot.

Nick would certainly be on the lookout for long blond hair. Why hadn’t she cut it? Or dyed it? Or worn a beanie to keep it under wraps? She’d gotten much too comfortable here at Fire Peak Lodge. Hair net! She remembered that she had one in her pocket from when she had to help out in the kitchen. Still hurrying, she pulled it out and piled her hair into it. In the process, oil from the smushed olive on her palm got smeared onto her face.

Jesus. She was a hot mess. But if she could make it to that gear shed, she could lay low until the end of dinner, when Nick would inevitably head back down the mountain. All the suites were booked, so he couldn’t possibly stay the night.

She took one last glance behind her before she reached the shed. The only thing out of place was a chicken who had escaped the coop and was roaming the grass looking for a bedtime worm snack. She let out a breath of relief and considered skipping the gear shed hideout. There was a good chance she was overreacting here. Nick hadn’t even spotted her. He probably didn’t even know she was at Fire Peak Lodge. He was just showing his daughter the sights. Why was she freaking out like this? Just because he’d been so very good at finding her the last time?

But just in case, she might as well take a little breather in the gear shed. She could get back to her project of reorganizing it. While she was at it, she could work on getting her heart rate back to normal.

Why did Nick Perini have such a dramatic effect on the way her blood circulated through her system? Her pulse had jumped the moment she saw that familiar dark head.

For a split second…she’d been glad to see him.

Shoving aside that thought, she put her hand on the gear shed’s door handle— then froze. The latch was open. It was never open.

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