Dina laughs loudly, squeezing me tightly before pulling back and hugging her tablet across her chest. “Literally, right? Who else would agree to trade their six-hundred-square-foot flat in the city for a five-story mega mansion turned resort, tucked deep in the mountains, blanketed in white and drowning in hot, slightly untamed snowboarders?”
Humming, I accept the champagne Dina’s assistant offers, spinning to peer at the upper-level lounge, the blue and silver garland elegantly braided along the railing gleaming in the light, and bringing a smile to my lips. “You will have to point me to where I can find me one of them.”
“Oh, girl, they’re everywhere. I can introduce you to—”
A throat clears behind me, and Dina whips around while I take the time to roll my eyes, downing my drink.
“Well, well.” My cousin cocks her head, wild red curls falling into her face. “Look what the blizzard botched to bury.”
My lips twitch, and I turn back around as Roman’s hands slide into the pockets of his slacks.
“Nice to see you again, Dina.” He dips his chin.
“Hm.” She flicks her gaze along his form, pretending he’s the least impressive being she’s ever seen.
My cousin is a fiery woman, two years younger than my twenty-seven, and the person who not only convinced me to accept the job I’d secretly applied for and was offered but packed her shit and made the move to Los Angeles with me. That was nearly five years ago, and we haven’t looked back since.
Facing me, her smile breaks free. “The bar was restocked to offer more budget-friendly items, as you insisted, and the new snow and ski gear you wanted for the shop is being unloaded as we speak. All rooms are ready to roll, thank-you cards and gift baskets left waiting in each invited guest’s room, but I want you to review them, just in case, before everyone begins arriving tomorrow.”
Her assistant hands me a checklist as if on cue, and I tuck it beneath my arm with a nod.
“How did the chefs do with the menu?”
“Freakishly delicious! Confirmed to be straight from the recipes provided and prepared to perfection. All staffed chefs took turns demonstrating each meal with little to no retraining required.”
“And the upscale options?”
She purses her lips, and my shoulders fall.
“Dina.”
“Seven.”
“We went over this. Twice.” I shake my head. “I said five max.”
“I know, but the ideas are so good! They basically took items we didn’t choose and turned them into ones we should have.”
“No. You have to cut somewhere.”
“And break their pretty little hearts?” she gasps dramatically.
“Oh, please—”
“I have an idea,” Roman pipes up.
My attention snaps his way. “You’re background music, remember? Numbers, contracts, and not much more than that.”
“Let’s allow the man and woman who inspired this place to taste test,” he begins, ignoring the fact that I fed him the same line he did me when insisting we still take this leap together. “Have them decide what we keep. They would understand the food better than anyone, yes?”
“It’s food.”
“It’s passion.” His dark eyes flick to mine. “It’s feeling and comfort and decadence. It’s what all friends, couples, families will experience just before the night ends while reliving—or recovering—their moment of choice. It’s the romance, and as you have said time and time again, food is a part of the foundation for these two.”
My heart beats a little harder as I stare at the man I never should have wanted, but did, the thick, suffocating silence stretching between us. At least that’s how it feels for me.
As if he knows, as if he senses the torment the simple sight of him creates, his sharp features soften into an expression I can’t seem to forget, no matter how many times I’ve tried.
I turn away.
“That’s actually a really good idea, Ells,” Dina quietly agrees. “Their car is picking them up from the airport now. Maybe they’d appreciate lunch waiting for them in their suite when they arrive?”
“Fine. Set it up, but only if it won’t delay their arrival for the opening ceremony.” My voice is raspier than I’d have liked, and I refuse to meet either of their stares, already stepping in the opposite direction. “I’m going to find a few staff members in housekeeping, see if they have any last-minute concerns they might be too afraid to bring up with their boss.”
“And you think they’ll tell their boss’s boss those concerns?”
I ignore Roman, counting the clicks of my heels as I walk away.
If I’m going to get through this weekend, I need to keep this man as far away from me as possible.
Should be easy enough.
He has been invading my office building back in LA for close to a month now. Why, I haven’t worked out yet, but I’ve managed to only cross paths with him once or twice a week. Thankfully most of those being amid team meetings, where I purposefully placed him on the opposite side of the room. I’m also not too embarrassed to admit that I snuck out of my own company nearly every day, sometimes waiting until I knew with absolute certainty he was unable to spot me on my pitiful escape.