Chapter 17 Lilah-bility
LILAH-BILITY
HOLDEN
We held the interview in the library. In hindsight, I should’ve fought harder for another room. That space had become sacred—mine and Lilah’s. Now, Madison intruded upon it.
She sashayed in, fully made up for the camera, wearing a blue suit and the shark-like smile she saved for moments when she smelled blood.
“You avoided me, Holden. Nice trick, having your staff show me around. What’s going on?” Hands on hips, she saw right through me.
“I thought your profile of the lodge could benefit from a variety of voices and scenes from the property.” I played it off coolly, ignoring the fact that sweat gathered under my collar.
“And what about us?” She lowered her voice, fluttering her eyelashes.
“As you can imagine with the opening of the lodge, I’m pulled in fifty directions right now, making it difficult to—”
The door opened, and Lilah entered like a breath of fresh air, stealing my breath away and all my attention, too. Her hair curled in golden waves, like an angel, like she’d stepped out of one of my dreams. In a festive green dress with pearls at the neck, she stunned no matter what she wore.
Our eyes aligned and sent me back to our nights in this library, on the couch, the roaring fire a silent witness to everything we experienced together. I missed her; my arms ached to reach for her and plant her under my chin.
“Oh, I see,” Madison astutely assessed what was going on here between us. “Well, I suppose we’d better get the interview underway so that I can catch an early flight back home.”
She turned on her heel, whipping her hair in my face, and conferred with her cameraman, giving me a moment to take Lilah aside for a talk.
“Hey Frosty.” I greeted her, but something was off. “Are you okay?”
“Aside from being swamped, I have a headache, but I’ll be fine.” Her tone and a side-eye at Madison suggested otherwise.
“My plan worked. The department heads kept Madison so busy I didn’t have to deal with her. I wouldn’t have anyway, not now. She means nothing. You—mean everything. I want to see you tonight.” The ache in my chest for her surprised even me.
“Let’s just get through this interview,” she said.
Madison cut in. “Shall we get started?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind. I’m very busy today.” Lilah moved past me, grace and ice, but I could feel the tension rolling off her.
The cameraman adjusted the lights. A boom mic swung overhead. The couch became a stage.
“I’ve marked your spots.” He gestured.
Lilah gave a clipped “thank you” and sat, smoothing her dress, composing herself.
I took my place beside her, my pulse loud in my ears.
My gut told me this could be a mistake. I didn’t exactly trust Madison now.
This could all derail in seconds, and for what?
A few minutes of fame for my ego, another round on Sports Network, harking back to my snowboarding days like I mattered?
Sure, it might bring business to the lodge, but if it cost me Lilah, was it worth it?
Madison crossed her legs, clicked her pen, and put on her polished, on-camera smile. “Today, we’re here with Holden West—former snowboarding phenom turned luxury lodge owner of Snow Quest—and Chef Lilah Childs, the culinary genius behind the restaurant at the lodge, Quest by West.”
Good start. I straightened, Lilah’s posture crisp beside me.
“Holden, tell us about the vision behind Snow Quest Lodge.”
“Well, as you know, my snowboarding career ended badly. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about the sport. I hoped my resort would encourage people to have more passion for it.”
“And what made you choose Steele Valley?” Madison began with the simple stuff.
I grinned for the camera, answering smoothly.
“The valley has always been a favorite of mine to visit, what with the Steele Valley Resort and Golf Club below. When I bought this lodge, I wanted to create a place that combined the thrill of mountain sports with the comfort of luxury accommodations that Valley visitors were used to. A place people could return to year after year.”
“Wonderful,” Madison purred. “The grand opening is in just a couple of days. How has the preparation gone? Any surprises?”
A laugh escaped me. “We’ve had a few curveballs—Snowzilla being the biggest one. But our team rallied. I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished.”
Madison nodded approvingly. I relaxed slightly. Maybe this interview would go well after all.
She turned toward Lilah with a bright, harmless smile. “Chef Childs, how has it been working with Holden on creating the restaurant concept for the lodge?”
A soft flush rose on Lilah’s cheeks as she glanced my way. “He did most of that before I arrived. I’ve been focused more on the food. But I think we respect each other and have common goals for the restaurant.”
I subtly winked at her.
“Hm. Your cookie buffet this morning was stunning. And I’ve had a look over the new menu you’ve created. Where do you draw inspiration for your dishes?”
Lilah answered with grace. “From my grandfather, mostly. He taught me that food should be made with love and bring people together. So the menu reflects that. It’s gourmet but accessible. ”
“Lovely.” Madison smiled too sweetly, tilting her head. I still didn’t trust her. “Of course, many in the culinary world already know your name because of your grandfather, the late and famous Julian Childs.”
“Yes. People regarded him—”
Madison cut her off. “But your career has been rather controversial, hasn’t it? There are rumors of a knife incident in Avignon where you brandished a blade at a critic?”
Lilah’s nostrils flared. “That was a simple misunderstanding. He walked into my station while I was prepping. I asked him to leave. I happened to be holding a knife, chopping ingredients at the time. It wasn’t a threat. It was a gesture.”
“Or a safety hazard. And let’s see, another report we found surfaced in Madrid. You threw a pan at a restaurant investor’s head?”
Lilah’s jaw ticked. “I threw it on the floor. He came into my kitchen drunk, grabbed me, and made aggressive remarks. I told the owner, but he protected him. Not me. It’s unfortunately very commonplace treatment of female chefs in the industry.”
My hands curled into fists hearing anyone would mistreat her that way.
Madison blinked innocently. “So that’s your version.”
“It’s the truth,” Lilah huffed, voice cracking.
I glared at Madison. Where was she going with this? The interview took a turn, in some vile game of hers.
She crossed her legs and leaned back. “That brings us to the most recent incident. The fire in Nice.”
My head snapped to Lilah’s. I’d had a private investigator keep tabs on her, but a fire was news.
Madison’s teeth sharpened like killer fangs. “The kitchen fire caused thousands in damage. The official report says it happened because you were incompetent and careless. You were arrested, although later the authorities dropped all charges, isn’t that correct?”
The air thinned, brittle as glass. Arrested? Lilah let out a shaky breath, a sign she was breaking. I had to do something to bring this interview back inline, and then Lilah and I needed to talk.
Madison quickly continued with a smug smile. “Some people might worry, Holden, that Quest by West is being run by a chef with a questionable European reputation. Fires, assaults, temper issues… Won’t Lilah be a liability to your business?”
“What do you think you’re doing? Is this an interview or a roast?” I complained.
“I’m digging into the facts some viewers may want to know. That’s responsible journalism.”
I quickly glanced at Lilah, who mouthed I’m so sorry to me with sad wet eyes. Her pain killed me, jolting me into action. No interview was worth that.
“Enough. Interview over. Turn off the camera.” I jumped off the couch, shoving the boom mic away. I fired off a message to my security team.
“How dare you? I report things with integrity.” Madison squared off with me, hands in fists by her side.
“You’re done here. You can take your integrity and leave.”
“You can’t do that.”
“It’s my mountain, and I want you off of it.”
Her mouth fell open. “What’s the matter, Holden? Mr. Snowman can’t stand to fall from grace? Can’t take the heat?”
“I can take it. But I won’t let you hurt Lilah in the process.”
Two men from security appeared at the door, at my beck and call.
Madison sputtered more about journalistic integrity and freedom of speech as the guards escorted her out, the cameraman following with all the gear.
I shut the door behind them, and leaned against it. I inhaled deeply and exhaled, trying to calm the worry inside of me about the way the interview ended.
Lilah was all that mattered though.
“Hey, look at me.” I crouched in front of her, where she still sat stiffly on the couch. We had the library to ourselves again, but the air had changed, no longer our little cozy nest.
Her eyes lifted, glossy and hurt. “I can’t believe she found out about all of that. The fire wasn’t my doing. It was my sous chef. They would’ve deported her and separated her from her husband and baby. I lied and took the blame.”
A relieved breath escaped me. “You have the biggest heart to go through something like that for someone else. But it must have been a scary time for you. At least we have a perfectly reasonable explanation for what you did and why. And we can fight fire with fire if Madison—”
“Maybe to you it’s reasonable. But you can’t fix everything, Holden. To everyone who watches the interview, it’ll be a disaster. I’m a cautionary tale.”
“Lilah.” I took her hands. “We all have pasts. Mistakes. Bad days. None of that defines you or Snow Quest.”
“If the interview airs, it will.”
“I’ll have my lawyers kill the story before it breathes, no matter what it takes.”
“And if they can’t?” She stood abruptly, pacing, hands wringing. “What if this ruins everything? What if your Michelin dreams evaporate because you chose the wrong chef with a nasty reputation?”
“Stop. You won’t ruin anything. And I definitely hired the right chef. Snow Quest isn’t about your past. Or mine. It’s about the future we’re building here.”
“We?” Her eyes flashed. “There can’t be a ‘we,’ Holden. Because if not Madison, then someone else will dig up my past and twist it.” She bolted for the door.
“So every time something blows up, you bolt, is that the pattern?” My voice cracked sharper than I meant.
“No. I’m protecting you.” She may act strong, but her trembling jaw didn’t go unnoticed. “I’ll stay for the first month—get the restaurant on its feet, give you time to hire another chef. Then I’ll move on.”
The words hit me harder than Madison’s ambush.
“Lilah, no. Absolutely not. Don’t walk away because you’re afraid.” I started toward her, then stopped short, worried that if I pushed too hard, she’d bolt.
“Yesterday, in the cooler, I was afraid, thinking you might be like Brad was,” she admitted. “Today, it’s reality I fear. Madison was right. I’ve become a liability.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“But I do. You don’t need a chef blamed for fires. With me here, you won’t be able to think straight about what’s best for your business. And I refuse to hold you back from building something incredible with Quest.”
“None of that is true. You’re not a liability. Stop this.”
“No. I can’t do this with you. In time, you’ll see that I’m right. I need to get back to the kitchen. Please don’t follow. It’d be best if we don’t see each other.” She slipped out before I could stop her.
“What the fuck?” I dragged a hand through my hair trying to make sense of it all.
We were only supposed to be a Christmas fling, something light to get us through the storm—except it turned into something so much more complicated.
And the worst part? It felt like I just lost the best damn thing I’d ever found.