Chapter 3 Rhett #2
“The lifts are all operational,” I said, pointing to the two chairlifts and the T-bar that were visible from the lodge level.
“Our ticket booths will be done by the time we open for the season. The avalanche-safety team is in place, and we’ve got their offices finished.
” I pointed to a small outbuilding midway across the curve of the mountain.
“But this is what you’ll be working on.” I pushed open a door and held it for her, and my eyes strayed below the level of her fluorescent vest to glance at the shape of her curves in her prim and proper pinstriped pants.
The light gray lines marching down the fabric only emphasized her curves. Generous, shapely curves—
Snapping my eyes back up, I followed her inside and gestured to the wide, sweeping staircase with a temporary banister made of scaffolding tubes and two-by-fours.
“The documents Todd sent over had a hand-carved cedar banister drawn. Has that been procured?” Piper asked. She looked at the doorway, then up at the roof. “And how will you get it in?”
“The banister is one of the reasons we parted ways with our previous design firm. We found out they were taking commissions from half the companies they recommended and charging us for the privilege.”
Piper’s brows jumped. “I see.”
“How does that line up with your principles?” I couldn’t help but ask.
She shot me a sideways glance. Icy blue eyes cut into me, and I found myself enjoying the experience.
“It doesn’t line up at all,” she replied, “but you might’ve considered it as simply paying a premium for the centerpiece of the lodge’s design. Now we might have to compromise to get the job done.”
We made our way upstairs, where the bare subfloor and unfinished walls opened onto the big windows that gave a fantastic view of the mountains towering around us. Concrete columns held up the roof, with not a single finished element complete.
We were way, way behind schedule.
“Boss!” a man called out.
I turned and nodded. “Ollie.” I greeted my cousin, our site superintendent, with a nod. “Meet the newest addition to the team. Piper Darling is the woman who’s going to transform this space in record time.”
Piper shot me another one of those glances, and this time I thought I read a bit of surprise. Maybe she’d resigned herself to getting fired for her little stunt this morning, and she was shocked that I was keeping her on.
“Piper!” Oliver exclaimed, pumping the woman’s arm as he shook her hand. “Just in time. Hopefully you’ll have better ideas than the last group of losers this guy hired.” He jabbed a thumb at me.
“Careful, Ollie.”
My cousin flashed a grin at Piper and winked.
For some reason, it made me stiffen. We’d been attached at the hip since we were kids, and he was one of the only people in this world who truly understood what drove me.
He’d been there to witness the car crash of my childhood, the disaster of my one and only serious relationship.
Where acquaintances and friends would occasionally question me about my love life, Ollie knew I had no interest in dating.
I’d found a new obsession: my business. Baldwin Consulting was my wife, my mistress, and my baby. Everything I’d worked for over the past twelve years was right here—and it had been worth it.
So no, I didn’t want to date. And I certainly didn’t want to date Piper Darling, no matter how much I enjoyed needling her until she shot me a glare and stuck out her pointy little chin at me.
But for some reason, I didn’t want Oliver to date her either.
And why was I even thinking these things? He was giving me a hard time and being friendly with the newest member of our team. Nothing more.
Except I knew that glimmer in his eyes, and I knew it had been three months since his last breakup. That was about the time Ollie usually decided to find someone new.
Piper didn’t react to the wink. She just arched a brow as she slid those blue eyes in my direction, dropping Oliver’s hand in the process. “I have ideas,” she hedged. “But we’ll see how open-minded Mr. Boss-Man is.”
Ollie snorted, and I didn’t like the interested gleam in his eyes. “I like her,” he told me.
“That’s because you haven’t spent enough time together,” I said, wanting to poke Piper until she snapped. And she did reward me with a narrowing of her eyes—the same look she’d given me in front of all those people in the coffee shop.
But Oliver chuckled and said, “Well, that can be arranged,” and I realized I’d basically just suggested that the two of them start spending more time together.
Swinging my glare in Ollie’s direction, I watched his smile melt off as he cleared his throat, eyes darting between Piper and me. “I’ll leave you two to it. We’re putting in the last of the windows on the east side.”
“The one that was cut to the wrong size?”
Oliver grunted. “Manufacturer got it right this time. We’ll be all sealed up by the end of the day.”
“Good,” I said, dismissing him.
“See you around, Piper,” Oliver called out. His gaze flicked to me briefly, then away, and he disappeared down the stairs we’d just climbed.
Clearing my throat, I tried to bring my thoughts back in line.
This woman was my employee, which meant I couldn’t be interested in her.
And I wasn’t! I wasn’t interested in anyone.
Sure, I dated occasionally. I had flings.
But I wouldn’t do that with someone who worked with me.
Wasn’t worth the potential fallout, especially when my business meant everything to me.
So why did Oliver’s reaction to Piper bother me so much?
“So,” I said. “Cafeteria over there.” I pointed to the corner of the building where the professional kitchen had already been installed. “Dining room. Lounge area over here,” I said, pointing to the space in front of the big windows.
Piper nodded. “And all hard-wearing materials, since people will be tracking snow through here on their boots. They’ll have wet gear with them all the time, maybe just coming in for a quick bite before hitting the slopes for another session.”
“Sure. But I still want it to be refined. Nothing that feels cheap.”
Piper hummed. “Based on the documents Todd sent over, I was under the impression that you were looking for something leaning more toward comfort than luxury.”
“I’m trying to open us up to a new market segment.”
She faced me fully, her eyes narrowed. “The design pitch clearly stated that you wanted to integrate this place with the local population. How does that fit with the luxury crowd? I haven’t seen many seven-star resorts around here.”
“I’m telling you what you need to deliver. Something refined, luxurious, and fresh. We won’t alienate the locals because they’re happy with the concepts we’ve presented to them.”
She glanced at me then, and I had the sense she saw more than I wanted her to. “I thought you were one of the locals,” she finally said.
“Doesn’t mean people can’t turn on one of their own.” I’d learned that lesson young; it wasn’t something I ever forgot. The people closest to you could be the ones to cause the most damage.
Huffing, Piper nodded. “Todd mentioned in the interview that you wanted to open the lodge this season.” Her lips pursed. “That seems…ambitious.”
“Not the worst thing I’ve been accused of.”
“That goes without saying,” Piper deadpanned.
She walked toward the far end of the cavernous room, where the seating area would be located.
I watched the movement of her hips as she paced the length of the room, her eyes scanning the walls, ceiling, and windows.
Leaning against one of the bare concrete columns, I waited for Piper to do a full loop of the room before coming back to stand in front of me.
She gave me a sharp nod.
“You think you can do it?”
“Depends on lead times for materials and how quickly we can come up with a final design for the space. I’ll be honest, it’s highly unlikely that this will be open at the start of the season, but we might be able to target the start of next year.
Even that will involve a lot of luck, and probably some sacrifices if we run into procurement issues. ”
She didn’t sugarcoat it, which I appreciated. She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. I nodded. “Want to take a look at the rest of the space?”
“Lead the way.”
We went to the cafeteria and toured the kitchen. Beside the eating area was a place for a gift shop, and across the wide hallway were restrooms, which were just waiting on cubicle doors to be completed.
We stood outside the cafeteria kitchen and surveyed the dining space, walking it slowly before turning back toward the stairs. Piper glanced down at a little lump of something in the middle of the walkway. “You might want to get a pest guy out,” she noted. “There’s a dead mouse over there.”
I clicked my tongue. Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I let out a tired sigh. “Not again.”
Then, right on cue, I caught a flash of orange in the corner of my eye, followed by a familiar yowling meow.