Almost There (Back to Silver Ridge)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Charlotte

T hey’d rolled out the red carpet for me. Not literally, of course, and the flooring inside Silver Ridge Resort tended to be high quality woven rugs over heated stone pavers or wood, but still. Meeting with the big names involved with the place made it clear they were happy to have me as a new employee.

Jonas Bauer, partial Silver Ridge Resort owner and the man who’d hired me, shook my hand with a firm up-down movement before releasing it.

“Thank you for the opportunity, sir. I’m thrilled to find such an amazing job in my home town.”

If I sounded a little gushy, I was. I couldn’t actually believe I was back, had an excellent job for the time being, and about to see my best friend in real life for the first time in years. Years.

“We’re lucky to have you, Charlotte. Leonie has made me promise to have you come see her when she’s well.” A flash of discomfort crossed the stern man’s face before he wiped it away.

“I’d love to. I haven’t seen Leo in years. I was so sorry I missed your wedding, but I’m very glad to meet you.” I beamed at him, maybe a little too brightly, but with Jonas Bauer being married to my old friend, he had to be used to being overwhelmed by more than just a smile.

“Likewise.” He glanced at his watch, then nodded just as the soft pat-pat of leather shoes on the ornate woven carpet under foot hit my ears. “Just in time. Here’s Julian Grenier.”

Yet another striking, serious-faced man dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and black tie approaching. I wouldn’t have needed Bauer’s introduction, recognizing him from the cover of Forbes last summer. Not that I was a woman who read the magazine, but it’d sat on a side table in the lounge area at my last hotel. I hadn’t minded it laying around after the magazine’s next month’s issue had already released because Julian Grenier was a truly fine man. He had a hawkish, brutal appeal that was only sharpened by the expert cut of his suit.

“Ms. Lane. Glad to have you on board.”

His hand shot out. I took it, and not unlike Jonas Bauer’s brief shake, after a quick up-down, he released me.

“I trust you’re settling in?”

“Yes. I’ve found a place to live, and I already know my way around since I grew up here.”

He nodded. “Very good. Please let my assistant, Kelly, know if you need anything.”

With nothing more than a nod, he turned and departed.

Uh, okay then. Small talk wasn’t my bag either, so I should be grateful. And though Julian was also part owner of the hotel, from what I understood, Jonas was my big boss, with Carina Toole as my immediate boss. Different hotel chains had different managerial structures, and I’d be starting fairly low on the roster of seniority since this wasn’t part of a chain, but a luxury resort instead.

Excitement curled in my belly. I’d worked at all kinds of places over the last ten years, but I loved boutique establishments best. I’d never actually worked for an independent one since so many smaller places ended up getting snatched up by the chains, but being with Richlieu group had served me well. I’d worked my way up the ladder, and I had even gotten an interview at this place to show for that. The position here at Silver Ridge Resort wasn’t an advancement, but I happily counted my lucky stars for the job. Many places hired seasonal workers, but this luxury boutique resort was sought after. Finding a position here, even if just front desk instead of events management, was a coup.

“He’s rather particular about his schedule,” Jonas said in apparent reference to Julian, no hint of his feeling on the matter, though why would he share that with me. He began walking toward the main hotel entrance a few hallways away from the business offices, me right by his side.

“Totally understand. I chatted with Carina a bit via phone, so I’ll circle up with her Monday and begin training, right?”

My boss had taken a long weekend so I hadn’t met her yet. I’d liked every interaction I’d had with her so far, though, and I couldn’t blame her for wanting a break before the insanity of the busy season began.

“Yes. She’ll be eager to meet you as well. Enjoy settling in, and reach out to me, or of course Leonie, if there’s anything you need.” He offered a spare but genuine smile.

“Thanks again. I’m sure I’ll see you next week.”

He nodded and departed back the way he’d come, with another slight dip of his head toward the man and woman standing at the reception desk. Odd guy, as was Grenier, but both very nice, respectful in the virtual interview I’d had, and welcoming in their own ways.

I twirled as subtly as I could in the lobby, stomach flipping at the impressive arched ceilings, plush décor, and general splendor of the space. Wood and stone gave a natural feel, but all the fabrics were rich and, forgive me for using the word, supple.

I know, cringe. But also… so soft. I’d sat in two of the chairs while waiting for Jonas earlier and both had been excellent. I’d looked through pictures of the whole place, and Jonas had offered a tour as well, though I’d only taken a partial one. I had yet to see anything less than gorgeous.

I took a deep breath and let the air ground me. Getting laid off from a company I’d worked for my entire adult life had been nothing less than brutal. That said, standing here in this glorious building near the mountains I loved, on a soul-deep level, felt like a salve I hadn’t realized I needed. After applying for a handful of other jobs, returning to Silverton and working the upcoming season at Silver Ridge Resort had made more sense than any of the other options.

After discovering Grenier was involved on site, I’d been concerned. Sometimes, people with too much money and no real hospitality industry wisdom tried to control builds like this and it turned out… well, let’s just say I’d worked in one spot built by a man whose wife had absolutely loved Andy Warhol. I’m all for genuine art in hotels, truly, but one can only stare at an entire wall of electric Campbell’s soup cans for so long before feeling a little twitchy.

But this classy place was on par with anywhere in Vail or Aspen, Deer Valley and any number of other places I’d visited and dreamed of working in.

And here it sat, nestled at the base of the same mountains I grew up in.

I’d honestly never dreamed of a hotel like this growing up. I’d only thought of leaving here and finding somewhere better, something grander. That the sleepy town of Silverton might become something that appealed to me?

Unthinkable.

Until lately.

Actually, until about a week after I left and it settled in that I had no idea what I was doing with myself. But that’d been over a decade ago, and now I was back—at least for the time being. The job felt right, my family was ecstatic, and all I needed was?—

“Charles?”

I sucked in a breath and forgot to release it as I whipped around. The voice was the same it’d been all my life, though deeper and a little roughened in a way it hadn’t been the last time I saw him in person years ago, or even how it sounded on a call. And of course, he’d called me by the stupid nickname he used when trying to drive me nuts.

“Cody!”

I bit my lip to try to hide my smile, but what a futile effort. Because there he was. My best friend from kindergarten until forever. Distance had stretched us, had changed things, and though I wasn’t sure he’d consider me his best anything anymore, he was still mine. My favorite person in all the world—and I’d been looking—and here he stood.

“Come here,” he said, beaming back at me and wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

I pulled him close, our bodies crashing together in the momentum of the excitement, and laughed out a breath. “Oh my gosh, it’s so so good to see you.”

He squeezed me tighter, then released me and stepped back. My heart flipped as our eyes met, the familiar face far more handsome in real life than on our occasional video calls. And he’d already been heart-achingly beautiful on a screen.

“Same. Although you’re smaller than I remember.” His brow furrowed as his eyes swept over me, from the just-below-chin-length brown hair on my head down to the heels on my feet.

I rolled my eyes in response. This had always been his thing. In ninth grade, he’d tried desperately to get everyone to call me Small Fry because I’m five three and he was five eight at the time. When tenth grade hit, he turned sixteen, and he betrayed me by growing another five inches that year alone. Kid was a klutz like you’ve never seen, but he had height on me in spades.

“I see you’re still clinging to your height like a raft. When will you learn, the advantage is in proximity to the ground?” I arched a brow.

He chuckled. The sound hit me low in the stomach and a jolt of awareness followed it. That deep, somewhat worn quality was not the old, familiar chuckle. No, it was the new one. The adult Cody’s chuckle I’d heard a few times when we’d talked on the phone, though rarely. The one that had me rewinding the video tape of our lives and wondering how we got here—ten years past a real friendship, seven years since the last time we’d seen each other in person, and connected by occasional strings of texts and the odd e-mail for far too long. At least until the last two months when I’d found out I might be moving home. I’d texted, and soon, we’d been messaging daily and even video chatting a few times. Nothing too deep, but reconnecting had felt natural. Good. Far better than the relative silence of years past.

It’d felt like we’d stayed fairly close, but just now, faced with him and how much he’d matured, I realized how inadequate it all had been compared to being in the same room.

“I wonder when you’ll register I’m not just tall anymore.” He mumbled this, turning away to glance at the front desk and wave at the woman there. Before I had a chance to ask what he meant, he asked, “You excited to get started?”

“I am. I’m glad I could find something here while I…” I pressed my lips into a thin smile I didn’t feel. “Adjust course.”

He gave me that squinty, inspecting look. Not entirely new, but the way his jaw flexed and then he looked away abruptly sort of felt different. Sort of. I’d had a bit of a thing for the way he did that when I was driving him nuts in high school, though I’d never admitted it to myself since I shouldn’t have had a thing for someone I wasn’t dating. Never had dated. Not even close.

And at the time, it seemed like everyone but him asked me out. It seemed like, but of course they actually didn’t. Warrick Saint never did. His older brothers definitely not, but again, they were older. Leo’s brothers never did, but they were older too. I’d had a few nice guys to date, but never Cody. The high school dating pool had been small, and I’d waited. Ever so patiently.

When I left after high school, I accepted it. Cody wouldn’t ever ask me. And I’d felt pretty self-righteous, even a little angry, when I blazed out of Silverton, leaving my small-town roots and stupid best friend in my wake.

That’d all burned off in the intervening years, and here I stood trying to ignore the flutter my dippy little heart wanted to give at the sight of that lightly stubbled flexing jaw.

“Well, for as long as you’re here, consider me your official acclimation guide when you want me.”

He flashed a half grin, one I could remember gleaming with braces for what felt like all of middle school and into high school, but which now showcased perfect white teeth framed by irritatingly plush lips.

Really. I’d felt almost sorry for him once he hit that growth spurt. There he was, a sack of six-foot-one skin-coated bones, phase three of his orthodontics, and those lips all full and pretty. Fortunately, we’d been a close-knit school and as far as I knew, he’d never really been picked on by anyone other than his older brother Mick.

“Earth to Charles. Am I already boring you?” He dipped his head and caught my eye.

Yeesh . Memory Lane was clubbing me over the head right now. “No. No. I was just remembering your phase three braces.”

He winced. “I’m going to choose not to be mortally wounded by the fact that one of the first things being near me after so long is making you think of is my sophomore year orthodontia. Ouch .”

I grabbed his wrist and shook him. “Stop. No. I’m just having all these crazy flashbacks. Plus I’m still jetlagged and I?—”

My words cut off when he stepped closer and set a hand on my upper arm. Gentle, even lighter than the way I touched him now, and yet he’d never done this. Any time I’d touched him, he’d let it linger, but didn’t touch me back. Never ever ever had he touched me back other than reciprocating hugs or high fives. That was all this was, no doubt, but it still had my throat tight around my explanation.

“Don’t worry. You’ve got to be toast. I’ll show you into the place, help you unload, and you can finally get to bed.” His brows raised, waiting.

“Sounds great,” I said, and meaning it. I did want to go with him and have his help to unload the used car I’d bought and loaded at my parents’ house. I needed to sleep after traveling for what felt like days.

And I needed to not think about how he really wasn’t just tall anymore. He’d shed the lanky grew-too-fast look he’d had all our lives and had grown broad. He’d thickened up in a pleasing way with the lean, muscular build of an athlete. My eyes tracked the curve of his shoulder—curve, not point.

He held the hotel door and I shuffled out, catching a whiff of his cologne or soap—something fresh and appealing that I hadn’t registered in the initial collision of our hug. I huffed a breath into the crisp early fall air and reminded myself of all the things I’d been chanting in my head leading up to this.

This was no time for my old crush to reignite. I loved Cody and this was our chance to reunite as friends. We’d talked almost incessantly over texts the last two months, and it’d stitched a ragged part of my heart back up again to break away some of the ice that’d formed between us. He was doing me a huge favor by letting me live next door to him in his duplex. He was generally wonderful, as always. But no matter how close we were, I needed to keep these fluttery ridiculous responses to him at a minimum.

Because as soon as I found something better than Silver Ridge Resort, I’d be gone again.