Page 4 of Filthy Rich

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Not a word, not a breath, not a single thing. Instead, I stand behind the door like an imbecile, wondering what I have to wear.

Chapter Two

Christopher

“You’re too direct,” my buddy Ryder groans as he settles his beer onto the wood plank bar. The place is packed with post-holiday travelers and retirees, which is exactly why this place would make out so great as a ski town. There’s already a burst of tourism here for the mountains and the quiet western atmosphere. I’ve seen it done a thousand times before in towns all over Colorado, but never in a town quite like this. From what I gather, Rugged Mountain operates in a space outside of modern convenience. People aren’t walking around on their phones, most stores take cash only, and there’s a hardworking innocence about the townspeople that you don’t get in Aspen.

“You’re one to talk,” I laugh, taking a swig of the IPA that’s supposed to taste like cranberries and oranges but tastes more like pine, which isn’t something you want in a beer. I’ll need to get some different alcohol up here. “You’re a fucking freight train. Folks don’t see you coming.”

“Nah, you’re wrong about this one, man. If you want her, you’ve gotta move slower, more methodically. Cash ain’t gonna do nothin’ for the women up here.” Ryder is the one that introduced me to Rugged Mountain. We met overseas years ago in a bar just outside of Dubai. He had just finished a rough detail and needed to decompress while I was trying to get a feel for the locals before closing a deal. We bonded over being fromColorado. As he talked about Rugged Mountain, I knew I had to check it out for myself. I’ve spent every winter up here since. I could come in the summertime when the snow wasn’t falling, but a snowy cabin up in the mountains is magic this time of year. If I didn’t travel so much, I’d be here all year long.

I shake my head and set the amber bottle down. “Everyone has a price. A million dollars is a good deal for a weekend with me.”

Ryder laughs and drags his hand down over his beard. Since he retired, he took up his family business and went back to logging. His worn hands show as much. I kinda feel bad for the guy. I’ve offered him money on multiple occasions, but the man won’t take it. “You offered her a million bucks? Jesus, dude. I’m tellin’ ya, it won’t work.”

“We’ll see. I haven’t found the problem yet that money can’t solve.”

He shakes his head. “You’re a fuckin’ mess. You want to make friends, open up that furniture store you’ve been talking about. Chicks love that shit.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I’m not looking for‘chicks.’I already found the one I want. Not to mention I’m not selling the pieces I make. The goal is to make them perfect one day, not sell them for a few bucks.”

Ryder shakes his head and readjusts his baseball cap. “You’ve lost it, man. You had two conversations with the woman. You don’t know anything about her, and when she finds out you’re trying to open that ski resort, she’s going to turn on you like everyone else up here. I’m tellin’ ya… the furniture store is where it’s at.”

“Look, I know everyone is pissed off at me, but I don’t want to change the charm of this place. I want to share it with people. I’ll put a small resort at the top of the mountain with maybe a hundred rooms max. We’ll put our base camp toward the outeredge of town so we’re not landing right on Main, the restaurants and shops will give the locals a place to work, and we’ll bring in people who don’t know this place exists. Folks will come for miles to escape the real world and get a shot at the Devil’s Run.”

“The Devils Run?”

“Yeah, I figure if we build on the west side, we can carve a slope that has three big jumps and passes over the caverns.”

“Oh, so you’re tryin’ to kill people?”

I laugh. “I’m trying to invest in something worth building. Adventurers will want the thrill, families will want the escape, and elitists will want to say they were here. It’ll be a destination, but that has nothing to do with what I’m feeling for Trish. She’s her own cup of steaming excitement. Did I tell you she showed up at the door with a sawed-off shotgun?”

“Ha! Sounds like she’s got mountain man blood. Trish is a good one. Really generous. This last December she took every angel off the tree at the fire station and bought gifts for the kids. She hand-wrapped everythin’ and delivered them on Christmas Eve. It’s not cheap shit either. She got some gaming stuff, e-readers, fancy clothes, and stockings filled with candy and gift cards for local food. She must save all year to afford it on a teacher’s salary. The lady is kind of a saint. You mess with her, and I know about a dozen kids who would hang you in the town square.”

I knew Trish was a teacher, but she never mentioned anything about the angels on the tree. She also left out the part where she was drop dead gorgeous with long, dark blonde hair and big brown eyes. I don’t mention any of this to Ryder. Chances are, he’ll hit me with more lectures, and I’ve hit my limit on that for the day.

“Well, I’m heading back up there later on today, so we’ll see if she brings the shotgun out again.”

Ryder shakes his head and stands from the barstool, popping the last of the pretzels into his mouth as he tugs his jacket back on over his wide shoulders. “I hope she does. Someone needs to put you in your place. What do you want with this weekend, anyway?”

I stare down at the bar, pushing away images of kissing her lips, pulling her close, and pressing into her. It’s fucked up, every damn thought, but I can’t get them to go away. If I could, I wouldn’t be at her doorstep with an offer so large.

“Just her time… to start.”

He shakes his head and stares down at the ground as low voices murmur around us.“To start?”

“It’s not what you’re thinking. I have feelings for her.”

“Or she told you no, and you’re not used to that.” Ryder shakes his head and glances toward me. “Don’t hurt her, man. You’ll have a world of hell up here if you do.”

I nod without speaking, mostly because I don’t know how else to explain what I’m feeling. I realize how insane it all sounds, offering a woman a million bucks for a weekend alone. Also, I’d bet there is some truth in never being told no. It’s a word I haven’t heard since I made my first half a billion dollar deal up in Aspen. That day changed a lot of things for me, but one thing it hasn’t been able to give me is love… until now.

Chapter Three

Trish

Christopher Becker is, in fact, the man from the ranch. I spent the entire afternoon in detective mode while the kids worked on their history projects. Ethan titled his ‘Historical Brothels of the West’and he’s built three lifelike red-light districts with working red bulbs. I think I’m going to have to talk to his parents before the conferences. His fixation is getting to be a bit much.

---