3. Ginger #2
Olivia nod, something knowing in her expression. "Sometimes a fresh perspective helps. I've been coming here for years, and I still find new things to appreciate."
"It can be intimidating, though," she continues, "when you're new and everyone else seems to know each other."
I glance at her, surprised by her perception. "That obvious, huh? I should work on my 'comfortable wealthy person' impression."
She smiles. "Let's say I recognize the look. I felt the same way my first season here."
Something about her candor makes me lower my guard. "I've been keeping to myself more than I intended."
"It happens," she says with a shrug. "But you know, sometimes the best part of these places is the people you meet. The connections you wouldn't make otherwise."
I consider her words, watching as Karl laughs at something Julian said. "Maybe you're right."
"I usually am," she replies with a playful wink. "Would you like to join me for that hot chocolate you mentioned? I know the best spot in the lodge."
I hesitate, glancing toward Karl who was already deep in a conversation with Julian and a young snowboard instructor who had joined them. The instructor, tall with a shock of blue-tipped hair, was demonstrating some technique with his hands, both boys watching with rapt attention.
"Mom!" Karl calls over, noticing my gaze. "Can I go with Julian and Max to the beginner slope? Max says he can teach us some basic moves before our actual lesson!"
I recognize the eager gleam in his eyes; the same look that had convinced me to buy him a telescope, a chemistry set, and a pet gecko in the span of one birthday. My planned mother-son ski adventure was clearly being sidelined.
"Are you sure?" I ask, trying to mask my disappointment.
"Please?" The word stretched into multiple syllables, his hands clasp in front of him. "Max is certified and everything, and Julian's dad already said it was okay!"
I sigh, recognizing defeat when it stared at me with puppy-dog eyes. "Alright, but stay on the beginner slope and listen to Max."
"Yes! Thanks, Mom!" Karl was already backing away, eager to join his friend.
"I'll be watching from the lodge!" I call after him, though I doubt he heard me over his own excitement.
I found myself nodding to Olivia. "Actually, that sounds nice. Seems I've been replaced by a snowboard instructor with cooler hair."
"Perfect!" She gestures toward the main lounge.
As we make our way to the lounge, Olivia points out various features of the resort, her commentary casual yet informative. For the first time since arriving, I feel less like an outsider looking in.
The lounge is warm and inviting, with floor-to-ceiling windows framing the mountain views. A large fireplace dominates one wall, surrounded by plush seating where guests chat over steaming mugs.
"Oh, there he is," Olivia says, nodding toward a tall man seated near the fire, his attention fixed on his phone screen. "Edward! I've brought company."
Edward glances up from his phone, a warm smile transforming his distinguished features.
His silver hair is meticulously styled, with just enough carelessness to suggest he hadn't tried too hard.
Deep laugh lines frame eyes that sparkle with mischief and intelligence—eyes that immediately soften when they land on his wife.
"There you are, darling," he says, rising from his seat with the easy confidence of a man comfortable in his own skin.
His tall frame is wrapped in a cashmere sweater that complements his tan, and his movements have the relaxed grace of someone who'd spent years navigating yacht decks and boardrooms with equal ease.
He slips his phone into the pocket of tailored trousers and moves toward Olivia with purpose, placing a casual but possessive hand at the small of her back when he reaches her.
The gesture is subtle but spoke volumes—this was a man who, despite his obvious wealth and status, consideres his wife his most prized possession.
"Making new friends?" he asks, his voice carrying the rich timbre of someone who enjoyed fine whiskey and hearty laughter in equal measure. A playful wink accompanies his words as he extends his hand in greeting. "Edward. Pleasure to meet you."
"Edward, this is Ginger," Olivia introduces. "She's staying at the resort with her son."
He smiles, his attention lingering on me. "And aren't you Tyler's newfound, uh, friend?"
Olivia narrowed her eyes at him. “Edward? Really?”
“What?” He shrugs his shoulders and with a gentlemanly sweep of his arm, he gestures toward the oversized leather couch positioned perfectly before the fireplace that dominates the great room.
The flames cast dancing shadows across the polished hardwood floors and illuminated the soaring timber beams overhead.
"Please, join me," he offers shifting to make room on the plush cushions.
"Best seat in the house—you can see the entire room from here.
" He settles back into his corner of the couch, the leather creaking softly beneath him, and drapes his arm casually along the back—a space that seems designed for Olivia to fit perfectly beside him.
The conversation flows as easily as the "grown-up" hot chocolate Olivia insists we try, regular cocoa transformed into liquid courage with a generous splash of top shelf whiskey, has my cheeks warming faster than the fireplace.
Olivia leans forward, her perfectly manicured finger tracing the rim of her mug, eyes sparkling with the particular gleam of someone sitting on a treasure trove of secrets just waiting to be spilled.
Olivia began pointing out various resort guests, sharing delicious tidbits about each one. “That's the tech billionaire who can't ski to save his life. Those twins inherited a cosmetics empire at twenty-two."
I meant to stay guarded—these were the kind of wealthy social climbers I'd been avoiding all week.
But there was something disarmingly genuine about Olivia's offerings, offers without malice but with the conspiratorial glee of someone sharing an inside joke.
For the first time since winning the lottery, I didn't feel like I was the punchline.
I find myself laughing more than I had in months.
"And that's Clara and Mia," Olivia continues, nodding toward two elegant women by the bar. "Their dad owns one of the largest fashion companies in the country."
"Wow." I glance at Olivia, realizing how little I knew about my her. "You've not told me about yourself."
She chuckles, gesturing to Edward who had been absorbed in his phone again. "Well, you met my husband Edward," she continues. "We don't have kids. Our baby is the Maples Company, and we love going on trips. That's basically it."
"You run what?!" The name clicked in my mind—Maples was one of the biggest luxury brands in the country. I couldn't believe I was sitting here having a casual conversation with the owners.
I suddenly feel very small. Microscopic, really.
My off-the-rack snow pants and clearance sale sweater might as well have had 'DISCOUNT SHOPPER' stamped across them in glowing letters.
Everything make sense now—the designer bag she carried so casually, her tailored clothes, her expensive-looking shoes—every detail oozed wealth.
"Well?" she asks, a hint of mystery playing at her lips. "What about you?"
I shift in my seat, suddenly aware of her scrutiny. "There's really nothing much to know about me." My fingers fidget with my napkin as I searched for something—anything—interesting to share. "I'm here with my son, Karl, and, uh... that's just it. I'm a boring mom."
She leans forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. "People around here seem to think Ginger Lawson is anything but boring."
My head snaps up. "What? Why am I the topic of anyone's conversation?
" The question burst out before I could stop it, my voice sharper than intended.
I glance around the restaurant, suddenly conscious of the curious glances from nearby tables.
Everywhere I went at this resort, people seemed to recognize me.
It made no sense—these people had fortunes that made my lottery winnings look like pocket change. Why would anyone here care about me?
"Oh, come on?" Olivia's perfectly shaped eyebrows arch toward her hairline. Her eyes dart to Edward, a silent message passing between them.
"No, I have no idea." I cross my arms over my chest, feeling exposed.
"It's because of your situation… with Tyler."
"Everyone loves Tyler." Edward's voice lilts into a near-sing-song, his index finger tapping against his mug with each syllable.
"Indeed," Olivia agrees, leaning forward as if sharing a state secret.
"Situation? Relationship? Oh, no.” A burst of laughter escapes me, sharp and too loud. I clap a hand over my mouth, cocoa sloshing over the rim of my cup and onto my fingers.
"What's so funny?" Olivia glances at Edward, who was smiling knowingly.
"We're not even close. I barely know him." The words came out more defensive than I intend.
Olivia threw Edward a look I couldn't interpret, and they both laugh.
"We see you together," Olivia says, stirring her drink with the deliberate casualness of someone who'd just discovered nuclear launch codes but was trying to play it cool. "Tyler hardly hangs out with random women." Her tone suggests I'd accomplished something noteworthy.
"Well, yeah," I explain. "That's because of a huge booking mix-up and now our sons are close friends. It's almost impossible not to at least be together sometimes."
"Hmm." She sips her drink, eyeing me over the rim. "You should consider yourself lucky. A lot of ladies wish they were you right now. There's practically a Tyler Reed fan club with membership cards and secret handshakes."