Page 73 of Well Played

“What’s wrong darling?” he asked gently as we sat at dinner, the volume of the conversation increasing as more alcohol was consumed. It was the last time we would be together as a group for some time. Many had already left or were flying home in the next few days.

“Nothing,” I assured him, but he was far too perceptive.

“Are you worried about going home?”

“A bit,” I admitted.

“It will be fine. Vail and Beaver Creek are only 15 miles apart. We can see each other all the time.”

“I know.” But my heart sank. How could I say we had grown so close over the past few months, and it felt like reality would ruin that?

“Let’s talk on the plane tomorrow. Come on. Dance with me.”

Owen pulled me out of my seat onto the dance floor. Just as we stepped onto the illuminated surface, a slow number came on and he pulled me close. Low appreciative “ooohs” reached my ears, but I had no mind for anything but him.

“Goodness, I love you,” he murmured as his lips met mine in the semi-darkness.

“I love you too,” I admitted, scared about what this meant.

4

Beaver Creek,Colorado, USA

As the cabin crew settled into their seats for takeoff, Owen asked, “Where exactly do you live in Beaver Creek?”

“Village Road, in a shared apartment with three other girls,” I admitted. “One up from staff accommodation, but I can’t afford a place by myself. I have my own bedroom though, so I consider myself lucky. You?”

Owen paused. “I am in the process of changing my accommodation.”

Glancing away from the window and the snow-capped mountains below the plane, I looked at him quizzically.

“Although my family is not, my uncle is quite wealthy. He owned a canning factory and sold it in his thirties to a large conglomerate and made millions. Now he enjoys his life and his children will never need to work a day in their lives. He owns an apartment at Beaver Creek. I called him last night and asked if I could move there with a friend and rent his place. He said yes.”

“Wait, what? You are moving to Beaver?”

“I am. And unless you object, I kind of thought you might like to move in with me.”

My mouth dropped. “Really?”

“Of course. I am not sure I could sleep alone anymore.”

“If you had a family flat at Beaver, why didn’t you live there before?”

Owen shrugged. “I wanted to do things on my terms. I wanted to make my own way. My mother didn’t approve of me leaving school and heading out here to ski, so I took nothing from anyone. I paid rent and finished high school out here. But now, I feel like I have earned it.”

“You have earned the right to be judged for your own achievements,” I agreed. “But what about work?”

“They have already offered me a senior coaching position. Private lessons teaching rich people, but at least I get to be with the woman I love and live the life most people only dream of.”

“How did you get here?” I asked. “I mean, I know the basics, but what made you leave home and come here of all places? You were so young.”

“My family is from northern Michigan,” I nodded. I knew that part. “We had a tiny ski resort near my hometown, and after school, I would catch the bus there and practice. But when I was sixteen, my best friend died, literally in front of me.”

“How?”

“On a race course. It was a practice run. He was ahead of me, and I saw him drop. We all thought he had fallen, so we gave him a minute to pick himself up. By the time we realized something was seriously wrong, he was dead. He had an underlying heart condition that no one knew about. It just gave out. He was three months older than me.”

“Oh, honey. That must have traumatized you.”

---