Page 3 of Four Stepbrothers for Christmas

Finally, I saw it—the wooden sign marking the entrance to the Gallo-Tyson cabin, hidden away like some guarded secret. I exhaled, not realizing I had been holding my breath, and made the final turn into the long driveway.

As my car ascended higher, I was caught off guard by a sudden overlook. The sprawling view was just a preview of what awaited me at the cabin. My fingers itched for my camera, and I mentally catalogued the spot for a future photo session. This trip was shaping up to be a perfect blend of work and pleasure.

Finally, the road leveled off, and I pulled into the cabin's driveway. My eyes took in the architecture, the way the structure blended so seamlessly with its natural surroundings—earthy tones, large windows, a deck that promised an undisturbed view of the world below. This would be my sanctuary for the next five days, an escape from the financial worries, the emotional fatigue, and the relentless grind of city life.

I parked and took a moment to collect myself, preparing to switch from solitary traveler to professional chef. As I looked at the cabin, a sense of calm washed over me. Here, I could indulge in what I loved most—cooking, nature, photography—without the looming shadows of my life's complexities.

The building was more like a luxurious mountain lodge than a cabin, large and inviting with huge windows that undoubtedly offered incredible views. I could already smell the pine in the air, the untouched crispness city life couldn't offer. For a moment, I just sat there, appreciating the beauty and the promise of temporary escape.

Grabbing my purse and the first load of groceries, I climbed out of the car. The cool mountain air greeted me, a stark contrast to the heated interior of the vehicle. I looked around, inhaling deeply. It was quiet—peaceful in a way only the mountains can offer.

The crisp mountain air instilled in me a surge of optimism. Maybe I would come back from these five days with more than a generous paycheck. Maybe I'd come back reinvigorated, a little stronger, and a little more hopeful that things could get better, both for me and for Mikey.

Chapter 2

Isaac

Istood on the front porch of our mountain cabin, coffee mug in hand, savoring the crisp morning air. The city life felt worlds away here in the Adirondacks. Before me, snow-covered mountains stretched out, their peaks bathed in a dazzling layer of fresh powder that glowed in the morning light. Towering pines dusted in snow stood sentinel, their branches heavy and still. This was peace, a kind you can't find in the boardrooms and skyscrapers, a sanctuary for both body and thought.

My eyes scanned the winding driveway. We hadn't heard from Becca since she’d headed out from the city. Her plan was to make the drive, then pick up groceries – nothing crazy, but a slight concern on these tricky mountain roads, even with the Land Rover we’d rented for her. She had our numbers, she had my credit card, and we told her dinner by evening was all that was required today.

"Still waiting for our chef?" Vinnie's voice broke through my thoughts.

I shrugged, still watching the horizon. "She should be here soon. Roads can be tricky this time of year."

Vinnie chuckled. "Ah, she’ll be fine. She’s not the kind of woman to be dissuaded by a little mountain drive.”

True, Becca didn't strike me as the type to get sidetracked or rattled easily. I thought back to our meeting, when she’d pressed us about whether she'd be expected to clean on top of cooking and made it clear she would do no such thing. I respected that kind of no-nonsense attitude.

Yet, as much as this trip was about getting away, I couldn't entirely escape work. The next big client, the next big leap for the firm—those thoughts are never too far away. We were at a stage where the next level of success was almost within our grasp. But at what cost?

I turned up the temp on the outdoor heater, letting the warmth seep into the air. The frigid mountain air didn't bother me, but the guys would appreciate the heat when they joined me.

One by one, they emerged onto the heated porch. Archer came out first, a glass of his usual ruby red wine in hand. I couldn't help but chuckle. For a guy who looked like he could be the leader of a biker gang, Archer was an insufferable wine snob.

"What're you doing out here?" he asked, taking a sip of his Cabernet.

"Waiting on Becca," I said, keeping an eye on the distant curve of the driveway. "She should be pulling up soon, and we'll need to help her with the groceries."

Archer let out a low whistle. "Ah, the epitome of culinary beauty." I chuckled – and I didn’t disagree with him.

Luke joined us, handing Vinnie a glass of the same scotch he was cradling. It was something of a marvel to outsiders, this bond the four of us had. We were close in a way most people found puzzling. Partners in business, best friends in life, and constant companions in whatever adventures came our way—even vacations like this one. The kinship we had was beyond words, something unspoken but deeply felt. The kinship was literal between the three brothers, though I never felt left out despite being the only non-Gallo in the group.

Yet, as grateful as I was for this brotherhood, there was still a space, an unnamed wanting that had quietly settled into a corner of my heart. It was an inarticulate yearning, not just for love, but for a shared life. A future where each of us could be our true selves, uncompromising and unafraid.

"Do you think she'll say yes?" Luke's voice broke my train of thought.

"Hmm?" I turned to look at him.

"To the proposition. For her to stay on as our personal chef even after this trip," Luke clarified. “Not just cooking for the company.”

"I hope so," I found myself saying. And I did, more than I initially realized. Becca had a spark, an understated but undeniable flair—not just in the kitchen but in the way she carried herself. I found it more and more difficult to overlook.

"Too bad she works for us," Archer said, his gaze fixed on the driveway. He’d put into words something that had no doubt been on all of our minds since asking her to join us for this trip. Hell, maybe even since hiring her.

"Yeah, it is," I admitted. I had a golden rule: no dating employees. It wasn't just for the sake of appearances; it was about maintaining a balanced power dynamic. A line that shouldn't be crossed. "Gentlemen, a reminder—Becca is off-limits. "

Archer grunted, savoring another sip of his wine as if it were a rare vintage. Knowing Archer, it probably was.

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