Chapter 26 Charlie
Chapter twenty-six
Charlie
I squint at the clue in my hand, trying to decipher the riddle while Bash navigates us through downtown Aspen in our rental SUV. My competitive side is in full force—we're currently neck and neck with Emily and my dad, with Ethan and Olivia trailing not far behind.
"'Where colors dance across the sky, not made by nature but by man's design. Find the rainbow body, capture its light, and your journey will continue into the night,'" I read aloud for the third time. "What the hell does that even mean?"
Bash taps his fingers on the steering wheel, stopped at a red light. He's wearing a knit beanie that somehow makes his jawline look even sharper, and I'm momentarily distracted by how good he looks in profile.
"Rainbow body," he repeats. "That sounds like an art piece."
"Rainbow body..." I drum my fingers against the clue card. Then it hits me. "Oh my god! The Aspen Art Museum! There's an exhibition there right now—Ugo Rondinone's rainbow body installation!"
"Bingo." Bash grins, taking a right turn as the light changes. "You're brilliant, Shortcake."
"Good thing my dad reads the paper every morning," I explain, already pulling up the museum location on my phone. "There was an article that said it's this incredible light installation that transforms the entire room into a rainbow spectrum. The artist is known for his immersive color work."
"Well, I for one am looking forward to an art break after that friendship bracelet fiasco." Bash holds up his wrist, displaying the uneven, childlike arrangement of beads I'd helped him string together at the jewelry store. "I don't think I'm cut out for fine motor skills."
I laugh, remembering how his large hands struggled with the tiny beads. "Hey, you more than made up for it by getting us the signature Powder Day hot chocolate at the lodge before anyone else figured out the clue."
"I may have spent half my twenties in that lodge," he admits. "I knew exactly who to sweet-talk for the fast track."
The memory of our first stop makes me smile.
We'd sprinted into the ski lodge, breathless and laughing, and while the other teams were still studying the menu board, Bash had sauntered straight to a middle-aged woman behind the counter, calling her by name.
One charming smile later, we'd had our specialty hot chocolates—complete with peppermint schnapps and homemade whipped cream—and the required polaroid proof before Ethan and Olivia had even reached the counter.
"I still can't believe you knew Marge by name," I say, shaking my head.
"Always be nice to the people who control the hot chocolate, Shortcake. That's rule number one of mountain life."
We pull into the museum parking lot, and I scan for other teams. No sign of Sarah's car, which my dad and Emily are driving since Sarah and Addie stayed behind at the house to keep my mom company, nor Ethan's rental. Good, we're in the lead.
"Come on!" I grab the polaroid camera from the console and jump out of the car. "If we hurry, we can get in and out before—"
But my words die in my throat as I spot Ethan and Olivia emerging from the museum entrance. My stomach drops. How did they get here so fast?
Ethan notices us immediately, his smug smile spreading across his face as he tugs Olivia closer. Her designer snow boots and pristine white parka look like they've never seen actual snow.
"Well, well," Ethan calls as we approach. "Looks like someone's playing catch-up."
"How did you solve the clue so quickly?" I blurt out, unable to hide my surprise.
Olivia titters—a sound so fake I want to cringe. "Olivia's cousin works at the contemporary art gallery in Denver. The minute we saw 'rainbow body,' she knew exactly what it was."
Ethan dangles their polaroid in front of us—a perfectly posed shot of them in front of the rainbow installation.
"Better hurry. Emily and your dad are right behind us.
" He quips. "Oh, and by the way," he adds, leaning closer as they pass, "maybe try for a more original team name next time?
'Team Shortcake' is a little... juvenile, don't you think?
My cheeks burn with anger and embarrassment. Bash tenses beside me, but before he can respond, Ethan and Olivia are already sauntering toward their car, his arm draped possessively around her waist.
"That condescending—" I start, fury building in my chest. I grab Bash's hand, ready to drag him into the museum at top speed. "Come on, we need to hurry."
But Bash doesn't move. Instead, he tugs me back gently, turning me to face him.
"Hey," he says, his voice low and steady. "Don't let him get to you. That's exactly what he wants."
"But we're falling behind! And he's being such a—"
"Charlie." Bash places his hands on my shoulders, grounding me. "Take a breath. This is supposed to be fun, remember?"
I inhale deeply, trying to let go of the tension. "I just hate losing to him."
"We're not losing anything." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "We're neck and neck, and we've got plenty of time. Besides, I've never seen this rainbow body thing, and I'd actually like to enjoy it instead of rushing through."
The tenderness in his eyes melts some of my competitive rage. He's right, of course. I'm letting Ethan's presence turn this into something ugly when it should be fun.
"Okay," I concede, exhaling slowly. "You're right. Let's actually experience the art."
Bash smiles, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my lips. "That's my girl."
Inside the museum, we're directed to the special exhibition on the third floor. As we step into the installation room, we're handed special white fabric booties to slip over our shoes.
"To protect the floor," the attendant explains. "The whole surface is part of the artwork."
I watch Bash struggle to balance on one foot as he pulls the bootie over his oversized snow boot, wobbling precariously.
"Need some help there, mountain man?" I tease.
He steadies himself against the wall. "I can snowboard down a double black diamond, but apparently putting on shoe covers is beyond my skill set."
Once we're properly outfitted, we step into the installation space and both stop short, awestruck.
The room is transformed into a kaleidoscope of color.
Light projections cast vibrant rainbow patterns across every surface—floor, ceiling, walls—creating an immersive, disorienting experience.
The boundaries between surfaces blur, making it feel like we're standing inside a three-dimensional rainbow.
"Wow," Bash breathes beside me. "This is... incredible."
I watch his face as he takes it all in, his blue eyes reflecting the dancing colors.
"The artist calls it 'the rainbow body' because it's supposed to represent the dissolution of physical form into pure light and color," I read from a brochure, then add from memory.
"In some Buddhist traditions, the rainbow body is the highest state of meditation, where the physical body transforms into light. "
Bash looks at me with surprise and appreciation. "Look at you, art expert."
I shrug, feeling a flush of pleasure at his admiration. "I minored in art history before the corporate world claimed me."
"Really? I didn't know that." He takes my hand, leading me deeper into the swirling colors. "Tell me more."
For the next fifteen minutes, we wander through the installation, completely forgetting about the scavenger hunt.
I point out details in the light patterns, explaining how they interact with the architecture of the space.
Bash listens intently, asking thoughtful questions and occasionally pulling me close when a particular combination of colors catches his eye.
"This is like being inside your mind," he says at one point, his voice soft.
"What do you mean?"
"All these colors, this energy. This is how I imagine it feels to be in your head. Bright, complex, always moving."
The comment catches me off guard. No one has ever said anything like that to me before. Ethan certainly never bothered to imagine what went on in my mind.
When we finally remember to take our polaroid, Bash insists we don't just snap a quick proof shot. Instead, he asks another visitor to take the picture, then pulls me into his arms, one hand cradling my face.
"Make it a good one," he tells the stranger with a wink.
When he kisses me, the competitive tension I've been carrying all morning melts away. I forget about Ethan, about winning, about everything except the feeling of Bash's lips against mine, surrounded by swirling rainbow light.
The camera clicks, and the polaroid slides out. As it develops, we watch our silhouettes appear—two figures wrapped in each other's arms, surrounded by a halo of rainbow colors. It's beautiful. Real.
"This one's not for the scavenger hunt," Bash says, tucking it carefully into his jacket pocket. "This one's just for us."
I smile up at him, struck by the realization that winning suddenly doesn't seem as important as it did an hour ago. Being here, with him, experiencing this moment—that feels like the real prize.
We take a second polaroid for the hunt, then reluctantly leave the exhibition, removing our booties at the exit.
"So, what's the next clue?" Bash asks as we head toward the elevator.
I pull the sealed envelope from my pocket and tear it open.
"'Where gingerbread lives in a house of its own, and hot cider flows like a river. Bring back a treat that's shaped like a tree, and your points will be sure to deliver.'"
"The Christmas market in the square," Bash answers immediately. "They have this gingerbread house display every year, and the best hot cider in town."
I grin, competitive spirit returning, but tempered now. "See? This is why we make a good team. I know art, you know food and drink."
"Among other things," he says with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows that makes me laugh.
As we exit the museum, I spot Emily and my dad rushing toward the entrance, looking frazzled.