Page 13 of You, Me, & Après-Ski
The corner of his lips twitched. Whether with amusement or agitation, I wasn’t sure. Maybe both. “We haven’t set a date yet.”
Frankie had said they’d been engaged for over a year, and his dodgy response had me wondering if she might be right about them being on the rocks. Finally, out of the chaos in my brain, a different topic elbowed its way to the forefront. “Why did you fire me?”
He cut a glance at me as we headed across an open field. “I didn’tfireyou.”
“Yes, you did. You basically told me my services were no longer required. That’s a very formal way of giving me the boot.”
He ground his teeth together and was silent for so long, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. Finally, he said, “I intended to spend the season working and would not have had time for ourwonderfulexcursions. So I didn’t want to waste your time. But plans changed.” As he bit off the end of his sentence, his footsteps became more like stomps.
Then the spotlight of realization shone on me. “You don’t hate having a tour guide—you hate ithere.”
As he spun toward me, a hard frown slashed down his face. “What?”
I gulped, my previous confidence shattering in the face of his dark mood. But before I lost my nerve, I asked, “Is it because of the snow? A lot of people don’t like snow. Or the cold. And the resort is too far from town to go there every day, tiny slopes compared to Big Sky, not very luxurious accommodations—” Aaaaaand I was rambling.
“It’s not because of that.” That was all he said for the remainder of the trek.
An hour later, we finished back where we started, and Nolan’s stormy mood had not abated. I tossed the equipment in the back of the van—I’d deal with the mess later—and all but peeled out of the parking lot. Snow had started falling again as evening approached, and I drove as fast as conditions would allow.
When I parked at the lodge, relief flooded through me. I moved to get out, but Nolan caught my wrist and handed me a glossy black business card.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“My personal cell number. So we can better coordinate. I have a hectic work schedule, so I might need to rearrange some of our outings on short notice.”
“Oh.” I stared at the card, feeling queasy because I’d been sure he was about to fire me again. “Of course. Looks like a credit card,” I added, and he almost smiled before he got out.
“Nolan!” Cressida said, waving from the lodge’s front steps and swathed in a puffy, floor-length gray coat. Her blonde locks were curled to perfection, unlike my tangled waves.
Nolan smiled at her, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “Be right there,” he said. He turned back to me, and I rearranged my face into something that hopefully looked professional. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“It’s a date,” I said, and wanted to punch myself in the face immediately. Could I not stop putting my foot in my mouth?
Amusement glinted in his eyes as he walked away, and I sagged into my seat.
First outing, survived. Only a million more to go.
Dios ayúdame.
Chapter 7
NOLAN
Ipausedoutsideoftheentrance to my cabin, key in the lock.Something is different.
After pushing the door open, I flipped the light switch and did a quick sweep of the house. Nothing amiss. Going back to the entryway, I froze.
A white envelope sat on the doormat, my wet footprint stamped across it. Picking up the nondescript parcel, I saw my name typed on the front, just like the first letter. Hands trembling, I opened it.
Careful. Eyes are everywhere.
My mysterious pen pal is following me or keeping very good tabs on me.I balled up the letter. Jason would want to analyze it, but I already knew what he’d find. Nothing. I checked my watch. Fifteen minutes before I needed to meet Cressida for dinner. Stuffing the letter in the entryway table, I opted to deal with it later.
When I took my seat across from Cressida at the lodge’s restaurant ten minutes later, I’d donned my public face and was ready to play the part of doting fiancé. The space had a woodsy manor feel, like we’d just returned from a fox hunt or playing polo like some rich assholes. It wasn’t my taste, but Cressida looked pleased as she sipped her Merlot.
“I already ordered you a Macallan,” she said.
I could have kissed her. After my day of facing my demons, I needed a stiff drink. Of course my first activity with Val had to be hiking on my mom’s favorite trail. I’d done it with her dozens of times—across the meadow, through the forest, around the frozen lake. With every snowy step, my mother’s ghost peeked out at me from behind the trees, the memories tainted with the stain of knowing that this place was the reason she was dead.
