Page 17 of Unforgettable

CHAPTERNINE

OFF THE RAILS

SCARLETT

Don’t look at him.

It’s bad when I only have one thing I’d put on my list and not a scrap of paper besides the napkins in these pastry boxes in sight to write it on.

Jamison helps me carry everything to the car, and as I open the door to get in myself, still all aquiver from his Orgasm Whisperer comment and the way he says he hasnodoubtwhen he’s about to say something that sends me sideways, he stretches his hand to the roof of my car.

Lord, have mercy. What am I going to do?

Everything about the way he moves and breathes and speaks reminds me of that night.

“Hey, I noticed you put someone else in the slot I’d set aside for our meeting on both yesterday and today’s schedules,” he says.

Since Danny and Regg both work at the ski resort and their common terms arethe powder’s fresh, dude, orshit, it’s a blue bird kind of day out there, I never realized how sexy schedule speak could be.

“Can we sit down when we get back and go over a few things?” he continues.

Yes, I have some things he could go over. Some slots he could fill. I list all the cuss words I can think of in alphabetical order to bring my mind out of the gutter.

Ass,bitch, c-u-nex-t week, damn,and get stuck on the f-word, thinking about the way he saidfuckso reverently as he slid his long, thick…shit, how could I have forgottendickandcock? Or are those even cuss words? I think not. Except…the way he used his, I can see either argument.

I fan myself with my hand despite it being thirty degrees out.

“We have a lot to cover,” he says.

We sure do. First up, I’ll be needing toget a grip.

I try very hard not to look at him as I hold on to my car door for strength. “I’ve left detailed lists of every single employee, as well as instructions about the various vendors that will be calling this week.”

I don’t mention the extensive file I’ve created about our regular guests, partly because I’d never want anyone to see the things I sometimes write…things like…

The Fergusons’ suite always needs an extra cleaning due to all the lube. Besides the normal power clean, wash the ceiling fans and the walls, and while they’re guests, wash the sheets in this order: once with bleach, twice with detergent, once with softener, and once more with bleach. Upon checkout, dispose of the sheets.

Housekeeping knows this nugget, so the secret won’t be leaving when I go, but there are some things Jamison can learn the old-fashioned way.

“That’s very helpful, thank you,” he’s saying when I pull myself out of my thoughts. “I’d still like to sit down with you and discuss—”

“We better go while the coffee’s still hot,” I say, moving to my seat. He frowns down at me when I reach to shut my door. I give him a little salute and start the ignition. He steps back and I make my escape.

When I pull into the parking lot, Bill happens to see me and comes to help me carry everything in. I grab my coffee and chocolate croissant and hurry to my office to avoid any more awkward chats with Jamison.

I manage to avoid him all day, instead resorting to email to pass along any information he needs to be aware of. But mostly, I take care of business like I would if he wasn’t here. I walk through the lodge, greeting guests and going through the various checkpoints I typically oversee on any given day. I know I’ll have to let these things go, even before my three months are over, in order to ensure the lodge has the best chance for success, but I’m not ready for thattoday.

I’m on the wing closest to the ski resort when Holly walks in, her cheeks pink from the cold.

“Hi. How did you know I needed to see you?” I sound kind of pitiful, but I’m just really glad to see her.

She looks like a dreamy ski bunny, tall, blonde, and beautiful, but the girl can out-ski everyone on this mountain. She slides her hands together to warm them up and then stretches them out as she walks toward me.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here sooner.” She hugs me hard and leans back, looking me over. “The gift shop’s been insane the past few days, so I only have a few minutes—Olivia’s leaving soon. You haven’t been calling me back or coming over to visit. How are you holding up?”

“It’s been…something,” I say, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one is close enough to hear me. “I almost told you and April in our group text but…” I feel my face heating and I try to fan it away.

She makes a face, her eyes widening as she leans in. “What is it?”

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