Chapter 7

Xavier

Julie’s about as pissed as I thought she’d be. I can picture her sitting in her office, trying to keep a lid on her anger as she calmly lays into me.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

I prepared for this. “I checked her out. She’s legit.”

“Mmmhmm. And at what stage did you think to check her out? After she stayed the night or immediately after she walked into your workshop?”

Shit. There’s no way I can get around this. “She had a fuel leak. And she fainted. She can’t fake those things.”

“Right. So you called Carlos and fixed her car, got her towed before you thought to inform me?”

I scowl at the peeling wallpaper. “I never said I called Carlos.”

“Did you think I was going to leave you out here with no eyes on you? I know when she arrived, I know when she left, and I have a satellite tracking the tow truck as we speak. The only thing I don’t know is how much information you gave away.”

Every last thing we did flashes through my mind as I start to dissect it the way I know Julie will be.

“There’s no evidence she’s there to join the staff. She just happened to be in the area. And it makes sense she’d knock on my door if her car wouldn’t start.”

That isn’t going to fly. Not with so much on the line.

“Carlos was there as a fail-safe in case you didn’t recognize a potential threat on route to the resort.”

The only way to convince her Carrie isn’t and can’t be a threat is to admit what happened.

“She’s a chef. It was just a freak accident. I told you I checked her out. She’s not—”

“What she is, is an incredibly attractive blonde who somehow got inside your apartment. This doesn’t look good Reid.”

I tighten my grip around the receiver. “I’m not going to apologize for helping her. Gerald would have done the same. It would have looked more suspicious if I sent her packing. And I told you, I checked her out. She’s who she says she is.”

She snorts. “How? By making a few phone calls or by getting into her panties?”

Ice trickles down my spine. “I interrogated her.”

“I see. So spending the night with her was part of the interrogation process was it? Because fixing her car is one thing. You compromised an entire operation. I hope she was worth it?”

I can’t even begin to answer that. I still don’t know what the hell got into me. Yes, she was hurt, yes, she was in trouble, but I could have helped her without winding up sharing my bed with her.

I could have slept on the sofa just like I did last night. Instead, I had sex with her, not once, but twice

“I’ll take your silence as proof you understand the seriousness of this. If this were anywhere else you’d have disobeyed a direct order.”

My lungs seize up and I have to fight to get the words past the lump in my throat. “It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“Lucky for you, you’ll be getting a chance to prove that.”

As she starts speaking, the guilt I felt over Carrie morphs into something entirely new.

By the time she’s outlined my new directive, my jaw is clenched so tight it starts to ache.

“You’ve got that?”

“Roger.”

“There can’t be any more mistakes. This is our final push. One wrong move, and we blow this entire operation wide open. I don’t have to tell you what’s at stake here.”

I swallow. “I understand.”

“Do you? Because your actions say otherwise? I’ve put myself on the line for this. If this goes sideways over a woman you just had to help, it won’t be your career you destroy, you’ll take me down with you.”

She shouldn’t have needed to remind me. But somehow hearing her tell me how much is on the line makes my tension grow even tauter.

“Please tell me you aren’t involved with this woman? Please tell me you just made sure she was okay, fixed up her vehicle, and didn’t give her anything she could use to track you down?”

My unease increases incrementally. “Nothing concrete. I kept it vague.”

She releases a sigh. “And there’s no risk she’ll come back to try to see you again, right?”

After what I pulled and the way we left it, I can’t imagine Carrie would ever speak to me, let alone show up at my door.

“Negative. She has no reason to come back.”

I can hear the doubt in her voice when she replies. “There better not be. You’ve been out there in Hicksville for six months now with only the yokels to talk to. I’m not surprised you wanted to spend some time with her. I am disappointed, that you did.”

I’m getting a little tired of repeating myself. “Like I said before. She had nowhere else to go. She was possibly injured, and with the flooding and the blackout, I saw no other option but to offer assistance.”

“You sure that’s all your offered?”

We’re going around in circles. Since I know I didn’t say or do anything to jeopardize this, my voice gets a little tight.

“Are we done here?”

“Yeah. We’re done. Just do the job you were sent to do. That takes priority over anything. Got it?”

I wince as I end the call.

The job should have been top priority.

But as I climb back up the stairs, ready to make coffee I sorely need, a thought hits me like a sucker punch to the gut.

I’ve never had a reason for it not to be top priority before.

***

Carrie

Sunday 10.12am

Murky brown water is pouring down the road to the resort as I finally drive through the gates.

Elevated on a hill and overlooking some of the best ski slopes in California, The Wolf Mountain Ski Resort offers five-star accommodation, a spa, and a highly regarded restaurant I’m hoping to take a peek inside.

Any other time, this would have been an enjoyable stay in a luxury lodge. A brief time out and my chance to actually sit out in a dining room rather than stay hidden in the kitchen.

Maybe if I didn’t know what to expect, and maybe if I wasn’t dreading seeing my mom again, I’d appreciate that I’m getting a couple days off to relax.

But as I spy my parent’s Volvo parked up, cold dread fills my veins and I have to consciously keep the tension out of my shoulders.

I leave the engine running as I try to practice explaining why I’m late and then tell them why Myles isn’t with me.

“Mom, dad. Sorry I’m late. I was driving too fast and slid into a tree, then I met a sexy mechanic. And yes, I spent most of the time having insanely good sex.”

I look in the mirror at my unkempt hair and unmade face. “Oh, and while you’re still judging me for that, Myles left me because I work too much and now he’s marrying someone else.”

Why didn’t I call Tina and have her meet me?

With a frown I dig around in my bag, and search for my cell. Panic starts to grow as I see no trace of it.

Shit. “I did not leave it there.”

I scan the rental, search under the seat, and in one horrific moment of certainty know I left it in Xavier’s apartment somewhere.

I can’t go back there to retrieve it. Neither my pride or my ego will let me. But it’s filled with work contacts, my diary and a lot of messages I’d rather Xavier didn’t see.

I can only imagine the power must be back on since it is up here. What if he charges it?

My breathing starts to speed as I think about all the ridiculous notes I made to myself. My period tracker app, my grocery list, my set daily pep talk auto-reminders that I am not the failure my mother thinks I am.

I glance around the parking lot, and my hand slides to the gear shift. I could so easily leave. I could drive back, and my phone is an excellent reason to call in.

The only thing stopping me is the fact that I need the bathroom, I’m starving, and I’m desperate for a hot cup of coffee and a shower.

I exhale a breath, torn between two equally unpleasant situations. If I go back to Xavier now, he’ll think I’ve gone back for him.

Or worse, he’ll think I left my phone on purpose.

I growl aloud. I have no choice but to go meet with my family as planned. Maybe I can swing by tomorrow when I’m not so tired and crabby?

And while I put some space between us, I can face my parents, and tell them Myles and I are officially over.

My entire body tenses as dread runs through me. I can try to tell myself I’m being ridiculous, that it’s not going to be as bad as I think it’ll be, but it always is and probably always will be either just as bad, or worse than I can imagine.

With a few deep breaths and a reminder I have faced worse things in my life than my mother’s scorn, I grab my purse and exit my car.

Since I’m already overdue, I head towards the front entrance and cross my fingers I can locate Tina or Danny.

I walk through the doors just as I hear a shout from behind. I spin and find myself staring at Danny.

He pulls me into a backbreaking hug. “Hey, sis.”

When I’ve extricated myself, I hold him at arm's length so I can examine him. His blonde hair is a shade lighter and his skin is bronzed, leaving no doubt he’s been spending a lot of time outdoors.

As always, he’s dressed casually, but with enough flair to show he cares about his carefully styled hair.

Considering my shabby appearance, he’s showing me up. “Were you lurking in the bushes?”

He grins and reveals teeth unnaturally white. “Of course I was. Lurking and pretending I didn’t have to be here.”

I chuckle and cover my eyes and stagger back. “I’m blind. I’m blind.”

He grabs my hand and wrenches me forward just as an elderly couple walk through the doors. “Let’s go get a drink before we find everyone.”

Despite it probably not being open this early, I let him drag me toward the bar. When we find it empty, Danny doesn’t seem too bothered, he just selects a booth near the door so we can watch the lobby. “Tina must be going crazy. I was supposed to be here yesterday,” I say.

He nods and looks as guilty as I feel about leaving her alone. “I was stuck in Ontario. What’s your excuse? Thought you had the weekend off?”

I’m not sure I want to dive into my whereabouts, so I steal my chance and gesture to the bathroom. “I need the ladies. Maybe call Tina and see if she can come down?”

He looks a little reluctant but pulls out his cell.

I leave my bag with him and head into the bathroom. My skin looks sallow under the fluorescent lighting, so I ignore how terrible I look, and get out as quickly as I can.

My stomach is raw with hunger and growling audibly as I take a seat beside Danny.

He chuckles and rubs at his red-tipped nose. “I checked in. And asked very nicely if we could eat breakfast in here away from the main dining room.”

My eyebrows rise in surprise. But then Danny always was a charmer. I’ve seen more girls fall for his act over the years than I care to think about.

He has a way of convincing you to do something, then when it goes terribly wrong, and it always did, the fault would be squarely on your shoulders.

Tina wised up before I did. He was always roping me into crazy schemes that usually ended up with mom and dad grounding us both.

My teenage years are filled with multiple stories of the times I let Danny talk me into doing something I’d come to regret.

Like Frenching a boy because Danny was adamant the boy had a crush on me, only to find out the boy had paid Danny to get me to do it.

Most of the hijinks were harmless, that one took me months to forgive him for. Tina intervened in typical big sister fashion when I still wasn’t talking to him and it was her birthday.

My lips tug into a smile despite myself. “You look like you’ve seen a lot of sun?”

He shrugs and just like he always does, evades. “So where were you that you couldn’t call? Tina’s been calling me every hour on the hour. She’s worried sick.”

I pull a face. “Damn it. I couldn’t call. My phone went flat and there was a blackout.”

Rather than embellish or explain what happened between Xavier and I reach inside my bag and pretend I’m looking for something.

“Yeah, but where were you all yesterday and last night?”

I copy his earlier movement and shrug my shoulders. “I had a minor accident. I spent the night in Frasier’s Gully. The mechanic at the garage was kind enough to fix my car while I waited.”

It’s mostly the truth, and thankfully before he can ask any more questions, Tina, looking flustered appears in the bar.

“Oh, thank God! You have no idea what it’s been like. Now you’re both here—”

Her shoulders slump, and she bursts into noisy tears. Danny glances at me, a wry smile on his face. “And so the fun begins,” he says.

***

Xavier

I’m downing my third cup of coffee, relieved the electricity is back on as I scan Gerald’s accounts.

Partially out of boredom, and partially out of duty, I read every entry he’s made in the past three years.

His handwriting is nearly illegible in places. If I didn’t have a good understanding of engines, I’d be completely lost.

It takes me the best part of the morning, but I manage to read his entire ledger, and find nothing to contradict what he said.

With a curse, I toss the book aside and decide to head upstairs to finally take care of the dishes from last night.

To take my mind off Carrie, I start thinking about taking my Fastback out for a drive.

The floodwater is dissipating, the heat from the sun creating an eery haze as the moisture evaporates.

I fill the sink as I mentally recalibrate myself. Instead of thinking about Carrie, I think about the man I’ve effectively replaced.

As I scrub the dishes under the hot soapy water, it’s a little unnerving to think about the similarities between us.

Physically we’re nothing alike. He’s lean, and a full head taller than me with salt and pepper grey and eyes like a hawk.

Gerald Wilkins is a veteran and like me, he’s put his country ahead of his own interests.

For whatever reason, he gave up his life in D.C. to come live out here in Frasier’s Gully.

Instead of settling down with a wife and raising a family, he chose to live a solitary life out here on the outskirts of civilization and seemed content to hermit himself away.

I finish the dishes, leave them to dry beside the sink and stare out the window to the vegetable garden he planted.

I scan the waterlogged plot and release a long sigh. I need to get out of here. I need to do something.

All this waiting around is starting to mess with my head. I thought I could do this. I thought I could sit tight and wait. After a year of noise, it sounded like the perfect solution.

But as I look at the squalor Gerald and now I live in, it’s impossible not to compare our lives and wonder if I’m unknowingly heading in the same direction.

Is this my future? A shitty little apartment in the middle of nowhere, with no one to talk to but tourists on the way to the resort twenty miles up the road?

I step out of the kitchen, feeling more despondent and less convinced this was worth the effort.

I push aside my doubts, and head into the bathroom so I can take a shower.

I’m drying off, and trying to force my thoughts off Carrie, when I see a silver object on the tin chest.

My nerves increase. I know every single item in this place. I’ve spent countless hours staring at the same things, memorizing them, just in case someone snuck in here and got the drop on me.

As I cautiously step closer, half-convinced it’s been planted there, my heart starts to pound for the wrong reasons.

It’s nothing even close to what it could have been. It’s a reminder someone was here with me.

I should have noticed it earlier. If I’d not been so distracted and in such a rush to get her out the door, I would have.

My fingers curl around the beat-up Samsung Carrie never got to charge and try to think.

Sooner or later she’s going to run out of places to look for it.

It’s only a matter of time before she shows up here again.

And that, is not something I can allow to happen.

***

Carrie

After hearing from Tina how mom made a waitress cry last night, I know I’m in for it.

To stall, and because it’s the one place I feel at home here, I decided the only way to get through the next day is by distracting myself.

With a little assistance from the ever-charming Danny, I’m now on my way to hopefully sneak a peak in a kitchen and a chef I’ve heard a lot of great things about.

Danny drops me at the door to the kitchen and I leave him to deal with a still teary Tina.

The kitchen is quiet, only a kitchen hand washing knives and a stocky, dark-haired, olive-skinned man deboning a piece of salmon on the workstation closest.

“Sorry to interrupt. I’m Carrie Miller, I work at—”

His head snaps up, cool caramel eyes narrowing before he grins and finishes my sentence. “Oasis. I know. I’m a fan of your deconstructed pecan torte.”

I’m so gobsmacked Hadi Antar knows who I am, let alone knows what I serve, I just gape at him.

He leaves the fish, and gestures to his office. “I was going to put this in a water bath, but I can take a break. Come sit down. I can get some coffees brought in?”

I’m so completely thrown off balance by his willingness to chat, I just smile lamely, shake my head at his offer of coffee and trail behind him, still absolutely floored a chef of his standing is aware of me.

Hadi is famous for blending American and Middle Eastern foods, in a unique fusion. I’ve never had the courage to pull off the things he does, and he’s known as a maverick in the industry.

There have been a few rumors circulating about his political and religious affiliations, but I’ve never been one to take notice of gossip.

He takes a seat behind his desk and points to a pile of magazines. “You were featured in last month’s issue of Foodie Monthly weren’t you? ‘Chef’s that buck the trends and create their own’ I think the article was called.”

I must still look shell shocked because when I just nod, he chuckles and runs a hand through his curly hair. “So what brings you here? Looking to poach my job?”

I shake my head, not sure if he’s joking. “Not at all. I’m here with my family and I wanted to warn you my mother can be…um…difficult.”

He surprises me by laughing loudly. “Mrs. Ava Miller? Yeah, I know. I half expected her to show up and chew me out.”

I try for something halfway intelligent. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could say she wasn’t like this all the time, but she’s accustomed to bossing everyone around, and unfortunately everyone does what she wants.”

He shrugs. “We get used to pandering to guests. It’s the only thing I don’t like about working here. But the team and the location we have makes up for it.”

I wince. “Not exactly what a twice hatted chef expects.”

He snorts. “Not really.”

I smile, relieved he’s being so great about it, for such a highly regarded chef, he’s incredibly down to earth.

“Well, thank you.”

He smiles and pushes a piece of paper across his desk. “Since you’re here. This is tonight’s menu. Anything you’d do differently?”

I’m not sure how I can answer that. So, I scan the menu, and see if I can find any fault with his combinations.

“You don’t use goat’s milk feta? It seems a better match with the fig tart.”

A line forms on his forehead as he frowns at me. “Unfortunately, the weather is to blame for that. It’s the only downside of the location. Aside from awkward diners, occasionally I also have to compromise on ingredients.”

We both grimace so I change the subject. “Do you miss working in the city?”

He shakes his head. “Not now. The atmosphere is completely different up here.”

I cross my legs and wonder if it would be rude to find out how he wound up here. “You’ve been here six years now haven’t you?”

He nods. “A little longer. I came here with my girlfriend to ski before the season ended. That was back when I working eighty-hour weeks, stressed to the max and she gave me an ultimatum. Work or her.”

It’s so close to my own situation I squirm in my seat. But he’s not done explaining.

“Next minute the Manager Omar is tapping me on the shoulder on the slopes and making me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

His lips tug into a slight smile. “So if you were interested in joining the team, you’d be carrying the tradition.”

I cock my head at him, sure I’ve misheard him. “Pardon me?”

He leans back in his chair. “I’ve kept it quiet because Omar wanted me to headhunt my replacement, but I’m looking to train someone.”

I suck in a breath. “You’re leaving?”

He nods slowly. “We’re big believers in synchronicity around here. Omar saw your name on the guest list and asked me about you. If you’re interested, we can talk it over with him before you leave.”

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about this. It’s nice to be thought of so highly, but it’s a little disconcerting that the hotel manager is talking to Hadi about me.

My parents are regular visitors, so I guess it makes sense they noticed the entire family was coming.

“I’m extremely flattered. But—"

He doesn’t seem perturbed I’m not interested just interrupts me. “I get it. I sprang this on you. But I need someone who can think on their feet, someone who knows about teamwork, and is open to new ideas.”

I blow out a breath. “I don’t know what to say. It’s a huge honor, but I’m not sure I could see myself living here all year.”

More to the point, where would I live?

He’s got an answer ready as if we’re interviewing. “If accommodation is the issue. They house the staff on site.”

I shake my head. The pessimist in me thinks it sounds too good to be true. “Sounds like you have the best of both worlds.”

He laughs and gestures to the dining room. “I do. But Rach has had enough.”

I assume ‘Rach’ is his girlfriend, so I stay silent, and glance around the spotless kitchen.

He notices my appraisal and taps the Bain Marie. “Everything is top of the line. The owners don’t skimp on anything. And we’ve not lost a staff member in the four years since Omar took over as manager.”

Hadi isn’t telling me anything I hadn’t already guessed. A low turnover of staff is a sure sign it’s a great place to work.

“Sounds like you’re living the dream up here.”

His smile only grows. “We don’t get to use the facilities on season, but off we have access to the gym, and the pool.”

I snort a disbelieving laugh. “Who takes care of the guests?”

He laughs with me. “No one comes here in the summer months. Off season it’s more about training and team building exercises for the permanent staff. We basically use casuals from Frasier’s Gully to keep the place running.”

My heart starts to crash against my ribs. “Oh? I didn’t think there were many people there?”

He shrugs. “Most of them are retired. But there’s an old guy and his nephew, a mechanic, they come to help out.”

My eyes nearly pop. “Oh, um, I see.”

He pushes back from his desk. “The younger one is more of a team player than his uncle. Omar has his eye on him. Like I said, we’re about family up here. We have to be able to trust our team.”

My mouth runs dry. Xavier didn’t say anything about working up here. But then that may have explained why his behavior was so, off.

Maybe he knew it would be awkward if I was here, and he was serving me?

When Hadi moves towards the kitchen, I know that, and all my other problems, including this job offer will have to wait.

“You bring your knives with you?” he asks with a smile.