Название | Maybe This Christmas |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Sarah Morgan |
Жанр | Зарубежный юмор |
Серия | |
Издательство | Зарубежный юмор |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472054883 |
“Me? You’ve got the wrong person, Ellen.” Brenna grinned at her. “I never sneaked out of school in my life.”
“Must be a real blow for Tyler, losing his career like that. Especially when he was right at the top.”
Brenna, who would rather jump naked into a freezing lake than talk about another person’s private business, made a desperate attempt to change the subject. “There’s plenty to keep him busy up at Snow Crystal. Bookings are up. Looks like it might be a busy winter.”
“That’s good to hear. That family deserves it. No one was more shocked than me to hear the place was in trouble. The O’Neils have lived at Snow Crystal since before I was born. Still, Jackson seems to have turned it around. There were people around here who thought he’d made a mistake when he spent all that money building fancy log cabins with hot tubs, but turns out he knew what he was doing.”
“Yes.” Brenna picked up the few things she needed, wondering if there was such a thing as private business living in a small town. “He’s a clever businessman.”
“He’s always known his own mind. And that girl of his—”
“Kayla?”
“Her heart is in the right place even if she does walk in here with those shiny shoes looking all New York City.”
Brenna added milk to her basket. “She’s British.”
“You wouldn’t know it until she opens her mouth. Take some of those chocolate cookies while you’re there. They’re delicious. Not that you’re short of good things to eat at Snow Crystal, with Élise in charge of the kitchen. Now that Jackson and Sean are settled, it will be Tyler’s turn next.”
Brenna dropped the jar she was holding, and it smashed, spreading the contents across the floor. Crap. “Oh, Ellen, I’m so sorry. I’ll clean it up. Do you have a mop?” Annoyed with herself, she stooped to pick up the pieces, but Ellen waved her aside.
“Leave it. I don’t want you cutting your fingers. There was a time when I thought the two of you might end up together. You couldn’t be separated.”
Double crap.
“We were friends, Ellen.” This conversation was the last thing she needed. “And we’re still friends.”
By the time she left the store, she was exhausted from dodging gossip and thinking about Tyler.
She drove straight back to Snow Crystal and parked outside the Outdoor Center next to Sean’s flashy red sports car. The snow was falling steadily, the path already covered with half a foot of white powder. The temperature had dropped, and there was the promise of more snow in the air, which was good news for Snow Crystal because snow cover was directly related to the number of Christmas bookings.
And they needed those bookings.
Despite what she’d said to Ellen, she knew the resort was still struggling to stay afloat. The log cabins, each with its own hot tub and private view of the lake and forest, had been expensive to build. For the past two years they’d had more cabins empty than occupied. Things were slowly improving, but they still had too many vacancies.
Brenna stamped the snow off her boots, pushed open the door and was enveloped by a welcome rush of warm air. She walked through to the peace and tranquility of the spa. The lighting was muted, the walls a soothing shade of ocean-blue. Soft music played in the background, and the air was filled with the scent of aromatherapy oils. It tickled her nose, but then she’d never been one to lie around and let someone she didn’t know rub oil into her skin. It seemed intimate to her. Something a lover might do, not a stranger.
Not that lovers played much of a part in her life.
Christy, who had joined them in the summer to run the spa, glanced up from behind the desk. A mini Christmas tree twinkled from the corner of her desk. “Still snowing out there?” She was a cool blonde, a qualified physiotherapist who had added massage and aromatherapy to her already impressive list of qualifications. “You’ve had a long day. Is it always as crazy as this at the beginning of a winter season?”
“There’s a lot of planning and preparation, that’s for sure.” Brenna pulled her hat off her head, sending another flurry of snowflakes to the floor. “Is everyone here already?”
“We’re still waiting for Élise, and—”
“Merde, I am late.” Élise, the head chef, sped past her like a whirlwind. “We are full in the restaurant tonight and also there is a party of thirty who booked out the Boathouse for an anniversary dinner. I don’t have time for this. And I know already my plan for the winter season, which is to give people the best food they ‘ave ever tasted. I will see you in the gym first thing tomorrow, Brenna. I’m sorry I missed this morning. It is the first time for months but we were crazy in the kitchen.”
“It’s Christmas, and your restaurant is the one part of this resort that has never been in trouble.” Brenna pushed her hat into her pocket. “You’re stressed. You only ever drop the h when you’re stressed.”
“Of course I am stressed. I am doing the work of eight people, and now I am expected to sit in a meeting.” Disgusted, Élise strode off, as light on her feet as a dancer, her shiny cap of dark hair swinging around her jaw.
Christy raised her eyebrows. “Is she caffeinated?”
“No, she’s French.” Brenna glanced out the window. “I saw Sean’s car, so I guess that means everyone is here?”
“Everyone but Tyler. He’s late. I texted him but he hasn’t replied.”
“He’s probably turned the ringer off on his phone. He does that a lot. He used to have to change his number once a month because women kept calling him.”
“I’m not surprised. The man is so insanely hot, I disconnect the smoke alarm whenever he walks through that door. I saw him in the gym this morning, which was a special treat given he usually uses the one in his house. The guy can bench press the weight of a car.” Christy fanned herself with her fingers. “I’m thinking of adding his name to the list of attractions at Snow Crystal.”
“He’s already on the list. Kayla has talked him into doing a few motivational talks, and he occasionally acts as a guide for experienced skiers who are willing to pay a price to ski with Tyler O’Neil.” And she knew he hated it. He wasn’t interested in fame or adulation, just in skiing down a mountain as fast as possible. He didn’t want to talk about what he did; he just wanted to do it. Other people didn’t seem to understand that, but she did. She understood the love of the snow and the speed. “He’ll turn up when he’s ready, as he always does. He operates in his own way, in his own time.”
“I love that about him. It’s a very sexy trait. I guess you don’t notice. You’ve known the O’Neils your whole life. They’re probably like brothers to you.”
How was she supposed to answer that? Two out of the three O’Neils were like brothers, that was true. As for the third—she’d long since reconciled herself to the fact Tyler O’Neil didn’t return her feelings, and she’d learned the hard way that dreaming made things worse. As children they’d been inseparable. As adults—well, things hadn’t turned out the way she’d once hoped they might, but she’d learned to live with it. She knew better than to wish for something that was never going to happen. She had her feet firmly on the ground, and if her brain ever wandered in that direction then she pulled it back fast.
“You’re lucky—” Christy fed a fresh stack of paper into the printer “—you get to work with the guy every day.”
And that probably should have been hard. When she’d accepted Jackson’s offer of a job running the outdoor program for Snow Crystal Resort, she hadn’t known she’d be working with Tyler.
But it wasn’t hard.
Working