Page 12 of Against All Odds

The old dartboard on the far wall remained, but the neon beer signs were gone. I’d swapped them for vintage jazz posters I’d picked up online: Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald.

Ben wholeheartedly supported my goal of turning the tavern into a jazz bar with live music, low lighting, and an atmosphere that made you want to stay forjust one more drinkwhile listening to good music.

There wasn’t anything like it in Aspen, which was all high-end après-ski lounges, high-end restaurants, and casual burger joints. I wanted the Wildflower to feel like it had history, like you could step inside and forget for a moment that you were in a mountain town.

I could see it already: a small stage for a band tucked into the corner, tables covered with soft candlelight, andTake Five,the jazz standard,drifting over the noise of conversation. It’d take time to get it right, but I felt it in my gut that I could pull it off.

I was deep in thought, stacking glasses behind the bar when the door creaked open. I frowned.

“We’re closed!” I called out.

“Good thing I’m not here for a drink.” Heath stepped in and then casually leaned against the doorframe like he freaking ownedmyplace.

So, it felt wrong that just a few months after my husband and I separated, I was lusting after Alexa Vikar’s ex-husband. Now, everyone knew who Heath was—'cause Alexa had moved backafterthe divorce with him and their daughter—and people were gossiping until the cows came home about how the new GM of the Royal Ski & Golf Resort was panty-melting handsome.

He had the good looks of a movie star—not kidding.

He was tall and muscular—like he worked out, and many an Aspen housewife, desperate and otherwise, had mused about how he’d look without his shirt. Now, there were plenty of locals who found amusement with tourists—but local talent wasblah. Well, until Heath Falkner, single and sinful, showed up.

Of course, Alexa glared at any woman who showed interest in her ex, making people question the 'ex' part of the equation. They were clearly still close—he spent time with Alexa’s friends and family, drove his daughter to lacrosse games, and strolled the farmer’s market, where I’d seen him myself.

Heath had been branded the catch…but the caveat was that if Alexa still wanted him, everyone needed to steer clear.

He was a handsome, devoted father (I mean, he moved here from San Diego to be with his daughter), a decent man who continued to stay friends with his ex, and the general manager of the most exclusive ski resort in Aspen. In the off-season, the Royal Ski & Golf Resort easily charged over five hundred dollars a night for its suites. This was the resort where celebrities stayed, so obviously, the guy who ran the place had clout in town. He had acloserelationship with the CEO and owner of the Royal Hotel Group, the elusive Maverick Royal,who people heard about but never saw, not even in the media.

“What are you doing here?”

I was very aware that there was a spark between us—I’d felt it, I knew he’d felt it, and fuckin’ hell, the last thing I needed was for Alexa Vikar to feel it. The last time I’d dated one of the Vikar sisters’ exes, he’d made a sex tape and destroyed not just my reputation but my self-confidence that, even after all these years, was still not completely rebuilt.

And, yet, when his blue eyes crinkled with a smile, I got all hot and bothered.

“Thought I’d stop by and see how Aspen’s newest tavern owner is doing.” He came to the bar and took a seat. He looked around, his gaze lingering on the jazz posters. “You’ve already made some changes. It feels…different.”

“How?”

“Well” —he looked thoughtful— “more exclusive but still accessible.”

He picked up the menu.

“We haven’t changed anything there…yet.”

He grinned. “What changes are you thinking about?”

I felt self-conscious. He was a big-time hotel guy. He had managed some of Royal Hotel Group’s most prominent hotels—he knew this business, and I was showing off my little eatery.

Insecurity made me hesitate. “Ah, just, you know, maybe have more…shareable tapas style options.”

“Shareable dishes and small plates are showing up onmenus everywhere,” he remarked. “I think you’ll see success with that.”

“I want to keep the menu small and manageable…but one that changes with the seasons.”

“Nice. You ready for tonight?”

I shrugged. “Mostly. I mean, we haven’t changed much. But, yeah, there’s some of the usual stuff to do.” I nodded toward the boxes of new glassware waiting to be unpacked.

“Need a hand?”

“I’m fine,” I said out of habit. Sable Nees wasalwaysfine and able to handle things on her own,thank you very much.

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