Chapter 9 #2
I followed Maya through another set of glass doors, revealing what had to be the most spectacular pool area I’d ever seen.
A series of cascading waterfalls created intimate grottos between multiple hot tubs, each one perfectly positioned to frame a different mountain vista.
Steam rose from the water’s surface, catching the morning light and creating an ethereal mist that softened the boundaries between water, air, and stone.
“Each hot tub is set to a different temperature,” Maya explained, leading me along a path of smooth river rocks embedded in cedar decking. “The minerals from the springs are excellent for muscle recovery and relaxation.”
“This is incredible.”
“Wait until you see the grotto bar.”
Maya led me through a cave-like passage, where the rough stone walls opened into a hidden oasis. A swim-up bar curved along one edge of a lagoon-like pool. Hanging plants cascaded from the ceiling. Lighting integrated into the rock walls created the impression of being inside a bioluminescent cave.
“Our mixologists created a specialty cocktail menu inspired by mountain streams.” Maya picked up a leather-bound menu from a nearby table. “The Glacier Melt is our most popular, local gin, blue curacao, and elderflower liqueur topped with sparkling wine and edible silver flakes.”
As if on cue, a bartender in a fitted black shirt began crafting one, his movements fluid and precise. I filmed the entire process, from the theatrical pour of electric-blue liqueur to the final sprinkle of silver flakes that swirled through the cocktail like metallic snowflakes in a winter storm.
The bartender offered me the drink, but I waved him off. “Maybe later. Actually, definitely later. I’ll be back.” I did my best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression, but both the bartender and Maya just looked at me like I was crazy.
“You know, Terminator.”
More blank stares.
“My parents grew up in the eighties, so I’ve sorta been brainwashed. You know how GenXers are.”
Maya smiled politely.
Beyond the grotto, the infinity pool seemed to spill right into the mountain lake below, the boundaries between man-made and natural blurred to the point of invisibility. The water reflected the clouds overhead, creating a perfect mirror image.
I captured everything. Boomerangs of the spa’s waterfall features. Slow-motion videos of water cascading over polished river rocks. Panoramas of the mountains reflecting in still pool surfaces. Each post generated immediate engagement, comments rolling in faster than I could read them.
“OMG that view! ”
“Booking my stay ASAP ”
“Got to try those drinks! ALL of them! ”
I wrapped up my Instagram stories with a sweeping pan of the grotto, feeling the familiar satisfaction that came from creating content I knew would perform well.
“Stay tuned, everyone! This is just the beginning of our mountain adventure. Wait until you see what we have planned next! #LuxeLifeMountains #AsterParksFinest #sponsored”
The entire space was a content creator’s dream, the interplay of light and water, the contrast of rough stone and smooth glass, the incredible views and colors.
At this rate, Marcus and Victoria were going to be booked solid until the next ice age.
Maybe Dad would get his Copenhagen Lego pilgrimage after all.
For the rest of the morning, Maya showed me the 10,000-bottle wine cellar, a collection that would make a sommelier weep. Next was the library, with first editions behind glass, and a game room filled with billiards tables and chess sets carved by local artisans.
The grand finale was the farm-to-table restaurant, where the executive chef, a serious-looking woman with intricate sleeve tattoos, prepared a special tasting menu curated specifically for my posts.
Each dish was a miniature work of art. Locally foraged mushrooms presented on slate tiles. Microgreens arranged in precise patterns atop purees that swooped across white porcelain. Edible flowers provided pops of color so vibrant they looked like digital art.
It was the kind of content that would have made even casual scrollers zoom in to appreciate the details. Then click subscribe and share.
“This is all just …” Words failed me, forcing me to capture everything on my phone. Even though I’d consumed enough fresh berries at breakfast to send a grizzly bear into hibernation, my stomach growled louder than an avalanche with the introduction of each new dish.
“Can we eat it now?”
The chef nodded. “Go right ahead.”
I was about to reach for one of the lobster-stuffed mushrooms when a pair of waiters appeared out of nowhere, whisking the entire spread away.
“Wait, what?”
I stared at the now-empty table, my hand still outstretched.
When I looked over at Maya, her ever-present smile was gone and her phone was clutched in hand. “I’m afraid there’s been a slight change of plans.”
“Change?”
“Marcus, set up a Zoom call.” The look on her face didn’t help ease my concern.“Looks like we’ll be having a working lunch in the business center this afternoon.”
Something told me a working lunch on a Zoom call would not involve lobster stuffed mushrooms. Probably those gross little triangle sandwiches instead.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. “I mean, a few of my posts are already trending. Which is … good. Right?”
Maya shrugged, looking as confused as I did. “I guess you and I are about to find out together.”