Page 3 of Saving it with My Best Friend's Brother

“First?” That familiar competitive spark lit his eyes—the one I’d seen before every debate tournament. “You’re going to show me everything. Every corner of this place, every problem, every possibility. No holding back.”

“And then?”

“Then we figure it out. Together.” He held out his hand. “Partners?”

I stared at his outstretched hand, the weight of the moment settling around me like evening frost. Accepting his help meantadmitting I couldn’t do this alone. It meant long days working beside a man who already occupied too many quiet moments of my thoughts. It meant risk—professional and personal.

But the photos on my wall watched silently, generations of memories captured in fading frames. Mrs. Henderson’s laugh drifted through the door as she shared another Pine Haven tradition.

I took his hand, trying to ignore how perfectly my fingers fit between his. “Partners.”

His smile widened, warming his eyes. “Good. Now, where do we start?”

“The resort tour can wait.” I gestured to the stack of financial reports, each page a testament to my failures. “First, you need to understand exactly what we’re up against.”

Hunter settled into the chair across from my desk, looking far too at home in my office. “I’m all ears.”

I spread the financial reports across my desk, painfully aware of Hunter’s presence as he leaned in to study them. His subtle cologne tickled my senses, making it difficult to focus on the grim numbers before us. Through the window, I could see Jorge fixing the ancient heating system - another Band-Aid on a growing list of problems.

“Our biggest losses are in winter,” I explained, pointing to a depressing chart. “We used to be known for our ski slopes. The Parkers met here thirty years ago during ski lessons. But the bigger resorts have been killing us lately. They have better equipment, newer facilities—”

“More marketing budget,” Hunter added, tracing the downward trend line. His finger followed the decline that matched perfectly with Crystal Mountain’s expansion. “When was the last time you updated your winter sports equipment?”

I winced, remembering the local kids’ disappointed faces last season. “Three years ago? Maybe four.”

He made a noncommittal sound that somehow conveyed volumes of disapproval. “And your snow machines?”

“Two are completely dead. The others are...” I trailed off, remembering last winter’s disaster when one machine had sputtered to a stop mid-season, leaving our beginner slope partly bare. We’d had to refund an entire ski school class - families who’d been coming for generations.

“That bad, huh?” His eyes met mine, and there was no judgment, just understanding. It made it worse somehow.

“We’ve been focusing our limited resources on essential maintenance,” I defended, gesturing toward where Jorge worked. “The heating system needed an overhaul last year, and the east wing rooms required new plumbing—”

“I get it,” he interrupted gently. “You’ve been putting out fires instead of preventing them.”

The simple accuracy of his assessment stung. “What choice did I have? We can’t afford to upgrade everything at once.”

“No,” he agreed, “but we can be strategic about where we invest.” He pulled out his laptop, scanning through some files before turning the screen toward me. “The first thing has to be bringing in additional revenue streams. Have you considered corporate retreats?”

“Corporate retreats?”

“Team building getaways,” he explained, scrolling through market statistics. “The market has exploded since companies started bringing remote workers together for bonding experiences. You’ve got everything they need—conference facilities, activities, beautiful surroundings. Plus, they typically book during off-peak seasons.”

“I... hadn’t thought of that,” I admitted reluctantly, glancing toward the empty conference rooms that used to host local business meetings and wedding receptions.

“That’s why you need me,” he said with a smile.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Miller.” But I couldn’t help returning his smile. “We’d need to upgrade the conference rooms, improve the Wi-Fi—”

“All doable,” he cut in, leaning forward with contagious enthusiasm. “And the return on investment would be significant.” He paused, studying my face. “What’s holding you back, Amelia?”

I stood abruptly, needing space to think. Moving to the window, I watched the morning fog finally lift from the mountains, revealing the slopes where generations of families had learned to ski, and where I’d learned to ski, with Mom cheering from the lodge.

“It’s not that simple, Hunter. This place... it’s not just a business to me. Every change we make, every ‘upgrade’ risks losing what makes Pine Haven special.”

Before he could respond, Sophie’s gentle knock interrupted us. She poked her head in, apology written across her features. “Sorry, Ms. Horton, but Mr. Richardson is here for his eleven o’clock.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop by ten degrees. I’d completely forgotten about the bank manager’s visit. Hunter’s sudden stillness told me he understood exactly what that meant.

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