Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
The dining room was a masterpiece of rustic-chic design. Soaring timber beams crisscrossed the ceiling. Glass walls framed the mountains like works of art. Maya waved enthusiastically from a corner table.
“I took the liberty of ordering for us both,” Maya said as I slid into the chair across from her. She gestured at the spread before us, an Instagram-worthy feast that looked like it had been styled by a food photographer. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? This looks perfect.” My camera was already out, capturing the perfectly poached eggs draped in sunshine-yellow hollandaise, perched atop fresh lump crabmeat and house-made English muffins.
Sliced avocado fanned artfully along one side of the plate, sprinkled with micro greens and what appeared to be edible mountain flowers.
A smaller plate held a geometric arrangement of berries, so perfectly ripe they glistened. Beside that sat a glass of fresh-pressed juice in a gradient from deep orange to sunny yellow, garnished with a sprig of mint.
“The berries came from a local farm about twenty minutes away,” said Maya, clearly pleased by the smile stretched across my face.
I took a sip of the coffee Maya poured for me, somehow managing not to spit, splash, or spill it all over her. As soon as I lifted the cup to my nose, the heavenly aroma of dark roast with hints of chocolate and caramel made my mouth water.
“We try to source as much as we can locally.”
I adjusted my camera angle to catch how the light played through the fresh-pressed juice, transforming it into liquid amber. “The lighting in here is perfect. Did you design it specifically for photo shoots?”
“Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised. Victoria was personally involved in every detail of the renovations. She’s very hands-on. And specific. And insistent.” Maya leaned in slightly. “Pretty sure she’s never heard the word no.”
“Renovations?” I asked, cutting into my eggs to capture yolk-porn for my followers. “Sorry, had to get that money shot.” I continued taking video as the yolk spilled over the crabmeat in a perfect golden cascade. “This isn’t how the lodge originally looked?”
“Oh God, no.” Maya shook her head. “You wouldn’t recognize this place from a year ago.
It used to be geared toward hunting and fishing.
Think mounted trophy bass and plaid everything.
” Maya waved her hand to encompass the room.
“The bones of the old lodge are still here, but LuxeLife completely reimagined it. We’re sitting in what used to be the tackle shop. ”
I glanced around, trying to imagine fishing rods and bait boxes where now there were white tablecloths and silver service. “That’s quite a transformation.”
“Night and day,” Maya agreed. “The renovation costs are …” She let out a low whistle. “That’s why there’s been such a push on the marketing front. Victoria needs to recoup the investment. Heard some big shareholders are making some noise.”
Maya took a sip of coffee while I popped a raspberry into my mouth. It may have been the best thing I’d ever eaten.
“How’s your suite? Everything to your liking?”
“Like it? I’m considering moving in permanently.” I nibbled a blackberry. “I must have taken fifty pictures just from my window.”
“I’m glad,” said Maya. “And I want to apologize again for yesterday’s transportation … mix-up.”
I held up my hand. “You can make it up to me by never mentioning it again. In fact, let’s make a pact never to mention the name Noah Barrett ever again.”
Just saying his name sent an unwelcome flash of last night’s dream coursing through me, which I promptly squashed with another raspberry.
“Deal. No more mention of ... that person.” Maya pulled out an iPad from a sleek leather portfolio. “Speaking of making it up to you, wait until you see what I’ve got planned for today.”
She flipped the screen around to show me a meticulously crafted itinerary that made my influencer heart sing.
“Full property tour first, the spa, fitness center, indoor and outdoor pools. We’ve scheduled treatments for you this afternoon, a signature massage, facial, the works.
For lunch, our executive chef from our farm to table restaurant will be curating a special tasting menu.
Then this evening, we have a private cocktail mixing class with our executive mixologist, followed by a sunset stroll to our private overlook where we’ll have champagne and charcuterie set up. ”
My eyes widened with each new thing. This was influencer nirvana, exclusive experiences, photogenic settings, and luxury treatments, all carefully packaged for maximum social media impact. Everything I’d been hoping for from this trip and more.
And the best part? No cantankerous mountain men with stupidly blue eyes and wolf-dogs.
I began planning my captions and hashtags. After yesterday’s travel fiasco, it felt good to be back in my element. This was what I did best. Finding the perfect angles, the most flattering light, turning ordinary moments into something extraordinary.
“So, are you ready to get started?” Maya looked at me expectantly.
I tucked my phone into my pocket and drained the last of my coffee. “Lead the way.”
“Our signature scent is a blend of sage and mountain lavender,” Maya explained as we stepped through the double glass doors of the spa entrance.
I inhaled deeply, letting the fragrance wrap around me like a blanket. It was mountain wilderness distilled into perfume form, minus the sweat smell from hiking and terror.
“It’s intoxicating,” I said, holding my phone up to capture the delicate tendrils of steam rising from hot stones in a copper bowl. The vapor caught the morning light streaming through the skylights, creating ethereal wisps that danced in the air.
“Each amenity is designed to bring the outside in,” Maya continued, offering me a cucumber-infused water from a dispenser. “We want guests to feel connected to the mountain environment, but cocooned in luxury.”
“Cocooned in luxury is good.” Vaulted ceilings soared overhead. A wall of water trickled over slate, creating a gentle soundtrack. “My followers are going to lose their minds over this.” I leaned in close, my camera capturing everything.
“Just wait,” Maya said with a knowing smile. “Follow me.”
She guided me down a corridor as the floor transitioned from stone to cedar. “This is our flagship treatment space.”
My jaw dropped as we entered one of the circular rooms. The glass ceiling offered an unobstructed view of the mountain sky. Aspens surrounded the perimeter, their white trunks and golden leaves creating a natural privacy screen.
“During the winter, guests can watch the snow fall while getting a hot stone massage,” said Maya.
I crouched down to capture the perfect angle. A beam of light had pierced through the aspen leaves at just the right moment, illuminating the aromatherapy diffuser and creating a mystical haze that filled the room.
“The massage tables are heated with volcanic rock from Iceland,” Maya continued. “And these sheets are made from organic bamboo.”
“This is all incredible.” I ran my hand across the polished wooden surface of the nearest table.
“After the tour, you’re welcome to come back and indulge in whatever you’d like.”
My mind raced with tantalizing possibilities: hot stone massages, aromatherapy wraps, botanical facials. I could practically feel imaginary hands working expert pressure into the knot that had taken up residence between my shoulder blades.
Noah induced stress, probably. I ignored the brief flash of blue eyes that snuck into my brain.
The fitness center was next on our tour, and while I avoided exercise at all costs, even I had to admit this was a gym worth documenting.
“Our equipment’s all top of the line.” Maya gestured toward the rows of gleaming machines. “Peloton bikes, Hydrow rowers, and we just got these new AI-powered strength training systems.”
I filmed a smooth pan across the gym, capturing how the natural light glinted off chrome surfaces. Through the massive windows, the mountains provided a backdrop that made even treadmills look appealing. Almost.
“What’s that room back there?”
“That’s our movement studio. We offer everything from sunrise yoga to HIIT classes.” Maya pointed at the schedule on the wall. “This week we have sound bath meditation, mountain flow yoga, and our sip and stretch. Basically, it’s Pilates with wine afterwards.”
“Count me in on the wine part.”
I could already visualize the content. Time-lapse videos of sunrise salutations as alpenglow painted the peaks pink. Sped-up footage of clouds rolling past while I pretended to know how to hold warrior pose without falling on my butt.
“Over here we have our recovery zone.” Maya pointed to the massage chairs that looked advanced enough to apply for their own medical licenses. Then she walked me past the smoothie bar, stocked with organic protein powders in glass jars and fresh fruit arranged in a rainbow.
“All our post-workout drinks are customized for altitude adjustment. The Mountain Berry Blast is my personal favorite. Helps with oxygen absorption.”
I zoomed in on the menu board, capturing the artisanal chalk lettering and illustrated mountain motifs.
“And of course, just like with all our spa treatments, you’re more than welcome to partake in any fitness classes or use the exercise machines whenever you want. Your room key allows access twenty-four seven.”
I looked around at the fitness fanatics already working up a sweat. A woman on a Peloton was pedaling like she was fleeing from bears, while a man with shoulders wider than my torso grunted as he hoisted weights that could anchor a small yacht.
“Yeah, I think I’m good.”