Page 11 of Tender Offer
The Ravine isn’t a property I frequent, but it has simple luxuries that make for the perfect holiday in the valley. Windows extend up to exposed beams on the ceiling, revealing a mountain backdrop. Each of our resorts has its own unique flavor. This onereflects a taste of the outdoors with the warmth of luxury in a palette of taupe, gray, and cream.
Being unplugged and thousands of miles away from London elicits a peace I haven’t felt since I met the woman who’s weaving through guests shuffling across wide plank flooring. Madison reaches Reagan, a front desk attendee, who accepts her room key with a smile that dissolves when she sees me. My headshake is subtle enough for her to continue checkout. Only a few people here know I own the Donnelley Brand. I’d like to keep it that way.
“How was everything?” Reagan asks Madison.
“Beautiful. I enjoyed the amenities,” she responds.
Satisfaction purses my mouth at Madison’s praise for my resort. I pride myself on curating a memorable experience for my guests.
Reagan types away on the computer. “We’re glad to hear that, Ms. Monroe.” Her eyes shift to mine, then drop back to the screen. “We have you on the one o’clock shuttle back to Denver. Feel free to dine in one of our restaurants or partake in a spa service until then. You’ll receive a text twenty minutes before the sprinter arrives.”
“Is there anything leaving sooner? I’d rather not stick around if possible.” Madison directs her comment to me over her shoulder.
The urgency in her voice draws Reagan’s brows together. Her brown eyes trace over Madison’s features, no doubt assessing why someone who enjoyed their stay would want to leave early.
I school my expression and tuck my hands into my pockets. My distance from Madison won’t arouse suspicion that I’m the source of her discontent. I’m off to the side, but I’m still close enough to remind her I’m not going anywhere.
No one knew about my plan to show up at her door with the breakfast she ordered—or that I followed her downstairs to stop her from walking out of my life for a second time.
It’s a battle to keep my shit together around her. It has been since that day in the museum, when she drew me into her orbit.
“One moment, please.” Reagan searches for a solution she won’t find. Singles’ retreat activities ended last night. Guests are checking out today, putting our small fleet of sprinters to use.
“I’m sorry. All other shuttles are full,” Reagan says. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No. Thank you,” Madison mumbles, angling herself away from me. I gave her space to sort out her itinerary, but I have no intention of leaving. Not until we talk.
An idea forms. Luck might just be on my side today.
With a nod goodbye, Madison heads off to the seating area across from three fireplaces. It’s a cozy spot with bookcases but nothing else to entertain her for the next five hours. She resigns herself to an oversized chair near the mantel. The sooner she breaks free from the resort and my presence, the less she’ll look like I ran over her cat and hit reverse.
But like I said, I’m not leaving her side until we talk.
“Reagan, are there any vehicles available to take off the premises?” I ask, my eyes never leaving Madison.
“There’s a town car near maintenance,” she says. “I’ll have one of the staff bring it out front.”
“Not necessary. I’ll retrieve it myself, thank you. Please inform Ms. Monroe that you secured a personal escort to the airport, courtesy of the hotel.”
“Yes, Mr. Donnelley.” Reagan hesitates. “Should I call someone to take her?”
My smile widens. “I’ll handle it. And let’s keep this between us, okay?”
Chapter 6
Madison
Imust have pissed off someone in the afterlife if fate is resuscitating another ex on this trip. Not just any ex.Theex.
My thoughts race in a million directions at the blurred lines between memory and reality. I never forgot a single detail about Preston, and I will never unsee his hard, determined face when I opened the door.
He rendered me speechless, standing in his full glory, demanding my breath and all my words. I played out this scenario in my head thousands of times. What I would say to the man who discarded me like an out-of-season sweater faster than he could say “I love you.” Yet when I had the chance to unload years of hurt and frustration, I froze.
Hearing “Puff” after all this time damn near knocked me through the basement. It’s the nickname he’d whisper in my ear in his embrace. I relished in the way he held me, with so much love and affection. The embers are still there, stoking a growing fire behind his stare. It was a struggle to fight against the spell that drew me to him and the tears I refused to let fall, but I didit. The slap wasn’t intentional, but I won’t say it didn’t feel good after the way he kicked me out of his life.
The travel magazine I’m haphazardly scanning while pretending I’m okay crinkles on a page flip. Nothing has calmed my nerves; my knee is still bouncing in an erratic rhythm. How can I relax when the phantasm who’s tormented me for the last fifteen years is only feet away?
Preston leans against the concierge counter, too casual for someone who’s just waltzed into my life and tossed it on its head. Reagan beams up at him with wide eyes and a smile stretching across her round face. Her long, blonde ponytail shakes as she nods enthusiastically at whatever he’s saying. She’s grinning at every refined tooth in his mouth.
