There’s footage of a ski lessons group learning to take the bunny hills, quite a few of them falling and tumbling into each other.
But it’s not me on the slopes. Is she insinuating that I don’t know how to ski? Cali never saw me on skis. I rub the back of my neck and watch in horror as the video goes from bad to worse.
Dodgy. Dangerous. Deadly. Would you let your kid ski here?
It’s an attack ad, worse than the mudslinging that goes on during an election campaign.
The video shows Julianna and her friend Izzie snowboarding down the slopes. They’re doing everything that I’ve taught my daughter, including wearing a helmet for protection. But Izzie wipes out in the snow.
And then the real nightmare begins. There’s raw footage from the security feeds of Cali slipping out of the ski lift and falling. We don’t see it only once. It’s replayed in slow motion three times over.
Is she trying to wreck the ski lodge? Does she want me to go out of business and close the resort? Because the video is pretty damning.
Billionaire Logan Henderson should stick to what he knows. The big city.
I should shut off the video. It’s obvious that nothing good will come of anyone seeing it. The saying about there’s no such thing as bad press never met Cali Sinclair.
The woman is brutal.
Vicious.
A true savage.
The only thing I regret more than helping her while she was here is sleeping with her.
I can’t watch the rest of the video. I swipe the app and close it, shoving my chair out from under my desk. Work has to wait. I want every reminder of Cali removed from my home and the lodge.
While I can’t burn memories, I can destroy the things that she touched. My bed sheets, for starters. The last night together when she stayed over after Julianna went to bed.
The first thing on the list to be destroyed is the white linens.
I never want to smell her scent again. Her pheromones are addictive and hypnotic. The woman, like a witch, lured me into bed with her, pretending to be someone she’s not.
I head straight for the elevator when Julianna rounds the corner. “Dad!” she calls, chasing after me.
I hit the button for the elevator. I don’t want to talk to anyone.
But Julianna runs faster and slides between the double doors as they’re closing. “Dammit, Julianna!” I shout. She could have gotten hurt with her aggressive maneuver.
I slide the key into the lock for the penthouse suite and hit the button.
“I guess you saw the vlog this morning,” Julianna says. She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes glisten with tears.
I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” I shake my head, angry with myself for trusting that little witch. “I should have known not to trust her. She’s practically media, and they always distort the truth.” I’ve seen it countless times, not necessarily with myself but with others I know.
“It’s not your fault that she betrayed us. And she made Izzie look like a fool!” Julianna’s bottom lip trembles. “If Izzie sees the video of her wiping out, she’ll never forgive me.”
I clear my throat and stand up straighter. “I’ll reach out to my lawyer and have the footage removed.”
“Dad, no!” Julianna’s eyes widen. “That will only make it worse. Just leave it alone. Don’t draw any more attention to the review. Maybe it’ll go away.”
It won’t disappear on its own, but I appreciate my daughter’s sentiment. We reach the top floor, and the double doors open.
Julianna steps out first, and I head straight for the bedroom. I’m not sure Julianna is aware that Cali slept over. We tried keeping it a secret.
I yank the covers and sheets from the bed. The room smells like Cali, with hints of almond, vanilla, and lavender. It tickles my nose, burning my senses. I want all of it destroyed.
My daughter opens her mouth to say something but quickly shuts it. “Have you tried calling Cali?”