I try not to put too much weight on Jules’ shoulders as I hobble toward the restaurant. “How long are you vacationing at Blue Sky?” I ask.
“Vacationing?” She starts laughing hysterically. “Cali, I live here.”
“Oh, wow. That’s neat. I didn’t realize there were condos at the resort.”
“Well, there’s one for the owners,” Jules says.
I cough and clear my throat. “Wait.” I stop walking. I can’t keep up with the conversation and physically move as I try to wrap my brain around what she’s saying. “Your father is Logan Henderson?”
“That’s right.” She nods and gestures for the hallway. “If we don’t keep walking, we won’t make it by morning.”
“Very funny,” I say, and nudge her. We cross the main hall, and I swear it gets bigger the longer it takes to walk across, but we still have to go through the long, winding hallway between the ski resort and lodge for the restaurant. “Maybe you should grab us a table.”
“I’m not sure you’re going to make it,” Jules says, and pulls out her phone.
“Who are you calling? I’ll be fine.” I don’t want her calling 911 or anything over a sprained ankle. It’s no big deal. Isn’t the first time that I’ve been a klutz.
“Dad,” Jules says, “I need your help. Cali got hurt.”
A minute later, she hangs up the call, and his heavy footsteps follow him into the hallway.
“Jules, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s Cali,” she says, gesturing at me. “I tried helping her to the restaurant, but we need crutches or a wheelchair. Is there something around that we can use?”
Logan glances me up and down. “Ankle bothering you?”
“Well, it’s certainly not being very nice,” I quip.
He doesn’t look amused. “Here, I’ve got you,” he says, and swoops me up, carrying me in his arms.
“Mr. Henderson, this isn’t necessary,” I say, trying not to laugh. Pressed against his chest, he smells fantastic, like pine and oak. His biceps are huge, and his chest is rock solid, all abs. I don’t have to see it to feel it against me.
“Wrap your arms around my neck,” he instructs as he carries me with ease down the hallway, and in less than a minute, we’re at the restaurant. We bypass the long line of guests waiting for a table.
A few people grumble their dissatisfaction as he carries me to the back of the restaurant. There’s a booth that typically seats four, with a placard that saysReservedon it. I can only assume it’s for his daughter and him.
He gently places me down in the booth, and I untangle my arms from around his neck. “Um, thank you,” I say, feeling flustered. My stomach is full of butterflies, and I’m not sure why. Is it his dark, brooding eyes or the way he stares at me, straight into my soul?
“Don’t mention it,” he answers, and I feel like he means it. He never wants me to speak of it again.
“I’m glad you’ll be joining us,” I say.
“Keep your leg elevated in the booth. I’ll go back to the kitchen and fetch you fresh ice.”
“That’s my dad,” Jules says, smiling awkwardly as she points at him. “Please don’t hate him. He’s the biggest grump, but I promise I’m nothing like him. If I intern for you, I won’t be a constant grouch.”
“I would hope not.” I chuckle. “I’m sure your dad isn’t that bad.” I force a smile. When I met him earlier, he seemed quite cold and distant, but I also hadn’t realized with whom I was speaking.
I groan and cover my face with my hands. “Oh my gosh, Jules. I totally bitched about this place to your father. The owner!”
How the hell am I going to get an interview with him after that debacle? I’m lucky he hasn’t kicked me out and banned me from ever returning.
Well, there’s still time for me to muck up the assignment. I swear Bridget sent me out here to get even with me. She told me I needed a change of scenery, and my vlogging was becoming too routine for their site.
That’s code for boring.
Logan returns, carrying a sealed bag of ice wrapped in paper towels. “Your leg should be elevated higher,” he scolds.