Page 53 of Please Send Snow
“What activity?” I ask Margo suspiciously.
She pulls me back toward the counter, away from the hustle and bustle at the center of the lobby with Bobby’s family, Penelope and her cameraman, and the older couple I learned earlier are called the Applebaums.
“I see how he looks at you,” Margo purrs. “Heaven knows why, but he’s into you and we’re going to use that to our advantage.”
I stare at her in disbelief.
“The two of you will enjoy a bottle of champagne in the hot tub,” she tells me, looking at me like she thinks I’ll be delighted at this turn of affairs.
“You can’t be suggesting that you want me to—” I begin.
“Of course not,” she says, cutting me off. “Unless you want to?”
“I don’t,” I tell her firmly, even though I kind of do.
“Not a problem,” she tells me. “You’re just relaxing and talking. And maybe giving him something to dream about later.”
I try to come up with some reason this can’t happen, but I’m too stunned to think of anything.
Does this woman have no shame?
“I… I don’t have a swimsuit,” I suddenly remember, feeling deeply relieved. She can’t expect me to get in there without a suit.
“There are brand-new suits and fluffy towels set out for both of you in the changing room,” Margo tells me smugly.
“Do you even know my size?” I ask.
“I made a guess,” she says, shrugging. “It’ll fit.”
I can’t think of any more arguments.
“What’s up?” Jake asks as he comes to join me.
“We reserved the hot tub for you,” Margo says brightly. “We know you work hard all day, and Maddie has been looking after Dylan. Now it’s your turn to relax while we keep the little fellow busy. We’ve got suits and towels for you back in the changing rooms.”
I glance back over my shoulder to the lobby, where Anna is blowing up red and green balloons. The boys are in heaven. Even Dylan can’t save me from my fate.
“Perfect,” Jake says.
There’s nothing to do now but follow Margo.
It’s only a hot tub. How bad could it be?
After all, he said it himself—there’s nothing going on with us, nothing at all.
Those words comfort me as we trail after Margo, out to the doors at the back of the hotel and onto the lawn.
“The hot tub has a lovely view of the trees,” Margo tells Jake over her shoulder as she walks.
It’s cold enough out here that we’re all shivering, but it’s no time at all until we’re up on the pavilion and Margo is fussing around the hot tub.
Steam rises from the water and suddenly I can’t get in there fast enough.
Margo points me toward the women’s changing room and I scurry in.
But when I spot my swimsuit laid out over a fluffy towel on one of the benches I stop in my tracks.
Oh, no…
