Page 18 of Mountain Security

“I’ll give it a chance. But I’m pretty sure whoever came up with this design wanted to torture people.”

She balanced two sets of poles in each of her hands—his and hers—while he carried both pairs of skis. The sight of him hefting a pair of skis on each of his wide shoulders was almost worth the discomfort.

Finally, they reached the gray La Flégère telecabine building. Yvette had driven by hundreds of times, but had never had any reason to stop.

Alex’s pass allowed him to get on without waiting in line, and he pulled her through ahead of him. They ended up in a gondola all by themselves.

“It’s the first time I've done this,” he said, looking uncomfortable as they sat down facing each other. “Use my work pass for something personal.”

“We could have waited in line,” she said.

He shook his head, leaning the skis against the far window. “Nah. I was too worried you would turn around and walk away.”

She laughed, sinking down onto the bench. It felt good to sit. She wiggled her toes inside the ski boots, testing how much space there was.

“I wasn’t going to leave. I promised I’d be here, and I keep my promises.”

She meant it as a joke, but he nodded solemnly. “I can tell,” he said, and the praise felt good. Her word was important to her.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been up here,” she said.

“It’s what most people come to Chamonix for.”

“Is that why you came?”

His jaw tensed for a moment. He looked almost … embarrassed. “After university, I knew I liked computers, and I knew I liked the outdoors, but I had no fucking idea what I was going to do with my life. My parents paid for my gap year. Twelve months, to figure it out. The deal was, once those twelve months were up, I’d go back and find a job. My father was hoping that job would be with him. He owns a small logistics firm back home.”

She smiled. “I take it that never happened?”

“I ended up here, and knew I never wanted to leave. And it wasn’t just the skiing, either. I trained to join the PGHM, and I found … I found a second family.” He shrugged his wide shoulders. “That sounds corny, doesn’t it?”

“The PGHM does amazing work.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, he broke the silence again. “Where does the ski suit come from?”

“I borrowed it from Jenny. She’s a keen skier, and only just a little shorter than me.” She looked down at the turquoise one-piece ski suit.

Inconspicuous, it wasn’t. But it looked alright to her. Although she imagined going to the bathroom in it was going to be a bitch, she liked the way it tightened around her waist, making it look slimmer than it was. And she absolutely, positively loved its bright coloring.

He was still looking at her strangely.

Maybe there’s something wrong with it.

Maybe it’s not meant for skiing or something.

“Does it look alright?”

He let out a shaky breath. “It looks like it was fucking made for you.”

Yvette felt her cheeks heat up.

“Is that a compliment?”

“More a statement of fact.” He brought out a small tube from his pocket. “Did you put sun cream on?”

“Have you seen my skin?” she asked. “I think I’m good.”

“Up here, in the snow, anyone can burn. Seriously. Take some.” His long fingers grabbed her hand, sending a tingle down her spine. Her traitorous nipples stiffened. As quick as he’d grabbed her hand, he let go, and she was left staring at the little white blob on her palm.

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