Page 22 of The Millionaire's Mechanic

The king-sized bed had some sort of space-age mattress topped with a cozy comforter and a mound of pillows she wanted to keep. There was also a huge flatscreen mounted to the wall opposite that appeared to get every channel under the sun.

In addition to the satellite television, there was a full bookshelf crammed full of bestsellers, which made her like Garrett despite the fact he had bought a secret cabin to hide from the wife he was divorcing.

Rainer insisted it wasn’t a move to hide assets. “Both sides come from money,” he explained. “In amounts that mean buying a place like this isn’t going to make a dent in his bottom line.”

Georgia was skeptical, but Rainer explained that his friendwasa good guy, going through a nasty divorce. “He just needs a bolt hole when things get too tense.”

Bolt hole? More like a party pad,Georgia sniffed internally.The hot tub Rainer had mentioned turned out to be half a dozen. Each room had one just outside the sliding doors that led to the deck wrapped around the back half of the lodge. Garrett appeared to entertain a lot, and he’d renovated the lodge to maximize its house-party potential.

You forget Rainer has his own party pad in the Bahamas. Georgia tried not to find that thought depressing. But it was.

* * *

The following days fell into a regular pattern. Georgia would sleep in, a luxury she couldn’t afford in her daily life, thanks to the fact Mitch dictated her schedule at Elite. He gave her all the late night and early morning shifts—all the ones he didn’t take himself.

After a leisurely morning, she’d join Rainer for lunch before going back to her room to read or study new-to-her car manuals online. At least she tried to. Easily fatigued by her head injury, she’d end up sprawled on the bed, passed out. It was as if she were catching up on the last five years of sleep.

While she did her bestSleeping Beautyimpersonation, Rainer worked remotely. She wasn’t entirely sure what a venture capitalist did. According to Google, the simple answer was funding new startups, but it had to be more involved than that, judging from the amount of time Rainer spent in his office. He didn’t emerge until dark when he would come into her room to wake her for dinner.

It wasn’t until the fourth evening that she realized all the delicious meals he served were frozen.

“Did you have a gourmet restaurant prepare all of this for you?” she asked, pretending they were sitting across from each other at a chic romantic French bistro.

“I think it’s a catering service. Garrett uses them every time he comes up here. He’s not much of a cook.”

“I guess you’re not much of one either,” Georgia teased, tasting her dish, a hash Parmentier made with scallops and lobster mixed with cod in a cream sauce.

“No,” he admitted with a smile. “I’m only decent at making breakfast. I can fix pancakes from scratch and my hash browns aretight, but, beyond that, I’m crap in the kitchen.”

It was another tidbit of him that she ate up, despite her dismay at the realization she didn’t rate homemade pancakes. Those were reserved for all those ladies he’d been photographed with.

C’est la vie, she thought, trying to shrug off her melancholia. After all, she was with him now. She would soak in his words and movements like water on parched earth. The memories would get her through the drought ahead.

She didn’t speak much the rest of her meal, prompting him to keep asking the occasional question so she could hear the sound of his voice.

Then he mentioned that it had started to snow outside.

Excited, Georgia sprang up to check the nearest window. “It’s true, look at them!”

The delicate flakes were falling sparsely, each delicate crystal reflecting the light from the window like a fire’s ember as it drifted down.

Squealing despite herself, Georgia ran out to the larger back deck that wrapped around the side and backs of the cabin.

The first snowflake hit her forehead. Opening her mouth, she shuffled until she caught one on her tongue. It melted immediately. Giggling, she went for another one.

Footsteps sounded on the wood floor. Georgia turned to find Rainer leaning against the jamb of the sliding glass doors. His face was distinctly amused. But she didn’t care if he’d caught her being childish. She was going to be herself if it killed her.

“You act as if you haven’t seen snow before.”

“I have.” She sniffed. “Granted, it was already on the ground as I drove past, but I’m still counting it.”

“Ah,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Well, enjoy your first snowfallwhile it lasts. It’s only a few flurries. According to the forecast, we’re not due for more than an inch or two in the coming weeks.”

The unspoken ‘and we’ll be gone by then’ didn’t dampen her mood.

Georgia tsked. “Don’t harsh my groove here,” she said, proceeding to catch more snowflakes before a thought occurred to her that made her snap her mouth shut.

“I know acid rain isn’t a thing anymore, but what about acid snowflakes?”

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