Is that?No,that’s not more innuendo, is it? Now I’m being filthy, and I need to snap out of it. “I’ll let you catch up on your own.”
Drinks finished, they fetch coats, hats, and scarves before bustling out of the door into deep snow. Meanwhile, having gained their approval, I unpack their suitcases, the locks not an issue. At 3 PM I go to the kitchens and collect the welcome pack of baked goods, passing Emily in the foyer.
“What are they like?” she demands, a big grin on her face. Keeping secrets from her doesn’t feel good. Soon, I’ll come clean, but for now, I’ve told her that Luca and I flirt and that he’s a workaholic, which is true.
Sometimes, you have to thread some truths into the lies.
“They’re beautiful,” I admit.
“Oh my god!" she squeals, guests milling around turning to look in our direction. “Sorry,” she whispers. “I need more details.”
“Brecken has these smoky-blue eyes and light brown hair, tinged with blond streaks. He’s tall, and he’s buff in all the right places, appropriately so, without being a hulk, you know? Like he works out a lot, or I don’t know, did professional sport. Reuben’s got killer cheekbones, wide-set eyes, and a square jaw. He’s a hottie too, especially with his dimples and British accent.”
“Oh boy, tough gig,” she replies, looking genuinely pained by the three options. “Well, gotta run. I’ll see you later. Or, maybe I won’t,” she adds on, pulsing her beauty-salon eyebrows at me indiscreetly. She teases me about hookups with guests, but it’s just for fun. The wishing keeps our spirits up, keeps us laughing when the drudgery and complaints bring us down. Boning the local bartenders is all that’s available when the guests are off limits.
On the way back to the cabin, I spot the guys a little further up the mountain, looking towards the rear of the hotel. Now and then, Reuben points, circling his arm as if explaining something. Then, Luca will point at something before they bow their heads, having a positive conversation if the nodding is anything to go by. Brecken, meanwhile, takes pictures on his cell.
Minding my own business, I continue on my way, but when I glance back at them a few seconds later, they’re watching me. My arms are full so I can’t wave, but I smile, all three of them waving back.
They’re so funny.
Sixteen inches of snow, my ass.
I don’t let myself dwell on that comment. I’m already in a lot of trouble and I shouldn’t be inviting more.
Inside the cabin, the fire burns, the Christmas tree lights bringing some festive cheer. This will be my fourth Christmas on my own, even if I’m surrounded by people. Aside from Betsy, Justin, and Emily, I have zero other Christmas presents to buy. As much as I liked my colleagues at Wardorff-Messen, none have become as close as those three. And my work colleagues here have become my surrogate family, my Mom, Dad, and sister in a messed up kind of way.
Four empty whiskey glasses sit on the counter, and my mind ticks over with possibilities.
CHAPTERSIX
After a steak dinner,I tidy away the plates and cutlery and wipe down. The guys let me wait on them, mostly because I insisted, strongly. After their walk, they showered, getting comfortable in front of the fire and TV. Soccer and hockey featured heavily, as well as whatever other sports were available to watch.
Typical guys.
Against a dark gray sky, heavy snow accumulates on the deck and window sills. The guests have made their way through the best part of a bottle of whiskey, plus several beers. An early start tomorrow for some epic skiing looks unlikely, but I enjoy watching them interact.
Reuben is easily the funniest, but they all crack jokes, roasting each other at any opportunity though Brecken seems quietest. Occasionally, I catch Luca watching me with a pensive expression. He makes no move to openly flirt with me, or touch me, and I’m unsure what that means. The most likely reason is that he’s giving me some space, letting me work out what I want here.
And if I want it.
He’s not spelled anything out, but I think I know his angle. Their angle. As a result of our non-conversation, he doesn’t know how I feel about that. So he’s biding his time, waiting for me to ask and talk it through.
I’m going to make him wait.
Reuben and Brecken are definitely in a vacation mood, tipsy, kicking back. Every once in a while, Luca checks his cell, unable to fully switch off. What other mystery shopping experiences command so much of his focus?
“How about a game of cards?” Reuben announces. “Have you got a favorite, Winter?”
There’s only a few card games I know of, and there’s a box of matchsticks in the kitchen.
“Poker?” I enquire, happy to be included in the evening plans.
I get an approving nod.
I fetch the matchsticks, dividing them equally as we settle around the coffee table. Reuben deals the cards that I saw in his case earlier. Luca passes out beers, coming to sit beside me to hand me mine. “You okay?”
“Yes, thank you.”