Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Jameson
"P erfect, now we just need a little more kindling right—Bear, no!" I lunge for my golden retriever as he attempts to drag off one of the smaller logs I've arranged for the bonfire. "That's part of the structure, buddy, not a toy."
Bear gives me his best innocent look, tail wagging as if to say, "But it could be a toy."
The sun hangs low over the mountains, painting the sky in strokes of gold and crimson. These sunset bonfires are my favorite part of the job. I love bringing people together, helping them disconnect from their screens and reconnect with each other.
"Mr. Callahan?" One of our regular guests approaches with her ever-present notebook. "What time should we gather for the ghost stories?"
"Jameson, please," I remind her. "We'll start once it's properly dark. Around eight."
I'm finishing up prep when I sense someone watching me. I glance up to see Savannah Carter standing at the edge of the patio, looking distinctly out of place against our rustic backdrop with her sleek dark hair, tailored black dress, and heels that are a death trap on our stone pathways.
"Perfect timing," I call out, gesturing to the pile of logs beside me. "I could use some help arranging these."
Her expression suggests I've just asked her to wrestle a bear. "That's not why I'm here."
"Worth a shot." I dust off my hands and give Bear a gentle command to stay.
"I need to speak with you," she says, taking a few careful steps closer. "Privately."
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. "Sounds serious."
"It is," Savannah says, clutching a planner to her chest like a shield.
I lead her to a quiet corner of the patio where Adirondack chairs surround a small wooden table. Once we're seated, she seems to be mentally rehearsing whatever she's about to say.
"I’m hoping to make a business arrangement with you," Savannah finally says, her voice clipped and professional.
"Business arrangement?" I lean back in my chair. "I didn't realize activities coordination fell under your purview."
"It doesn't." She takes a deep breath. "I need you to pretend to be my fiancé."
I stare at her for a beat, certain I've misheard. When her expression remains deadly serious, I can't help it. I laugh. Not a polite chuckle, but a full, genuine laugh that has Bear lifting his head in curiosity from his spot by the fire pit.
"I'm sorry," I manage, trying to rein in my amusement. "You want me to do what now?"
Savannah's cheeks flush slightly, but her gaze remains steady. "I need you to pretend to be engaged to me. For a business meeting. This weekend only."
"And why exactly would you need that?" I'm still grinning, unable to imagine what circumstances led the most organized woman I've ever met to such a desperate measure.
She takes a deep breath. "I accidentally told Harold Bennett—you know, the financial guy whose retreat could be huge for the lodge—that I'm engaged. Now he and his wife want to meet my fiancé at dinner this Friday."
"Accidentally?" I look at Savannah with newfound appreciation. "That doesn't seem like something you'd do by accident."
"It wasn't my finest moment," she admits stiffly. "He started talking about family values and forty-seven years of marriage, and suddenly I was engaged."
"Happens to the best of us," I say solemnly, though my eyes are still laughing. "One minute you're single, the next you're accidentally engaged."
Her eyes narrow slightly. "This is a serious matter, Mr. Callahan."
"Jameson," I correct automatically. "And you want me to play your devoted fiancé?" I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you're in for."
"Don't call me sweetheart," she says immediately, her tone sharp enough to cut glass.
Bear chooses this moment to abandon his post, trotting over to investigate our visitor. Before I can call him back, he's resting his head on Savannah's knee, looking up with soulful eyes.
She goes completely still. "Your dog is touching me."
"He likes you," I observe, making no move to call him away. "Good judge of character, Bear is."
"I'm not a dog person," she says.
"That's the beauty of dogs. They don't care if you're a dog person. They just are who they are, and they love you anyway."
Something flickers across her face. It’s so brief I almost miss it. Longing maybe? Whatever it is, it's gone in an instant, replaced by determination.
"Jules mentioned you're working on a partnership with Altitude Adventures," she says, shifting into business mode. "I can help you secure that deal if you help me for one weekend."
I study her for a moment. Where I see adventure, she sees logistics. Where I seek connection, she seeks contracts.
"The Altitude Adventures deal is important," I admit, leaning back in my chair. "We've been trying to land that partnership for months."
"So we both need something," she says, her dark eyes studying me carefully. "I need a fiancé for the weekend, you need help with a contract. It's a simple business arrangement."
I can't help but smile at how she's framed it. So clean, so transactional. As if playing at being in love could ever be that simple.
"Alright," I say, extending my hand. "One weekend of devoted fiancé behavior in exchange for your help with the Altitude Adventures contract."
Relief floods her expression before she carefully conceals it. "Thank you," she says, taking my hand in a firm, businesslike shake.
Her fingers are smaller than I expected, softer too. She pulls away quickly, already reaching for her planner.
"We'll need to establish ground rules," she says, flipping to a clean page.
"Let me guess? You already have notes."
"Mockery wasn't part of our agreement," she says primly, but there's a hint of something like humor in her eyes.
"I'm just getting into character," I say with a grin. "Shouldn't your fiancé know how to make you smile? Or is that not in the contract, either?"
She taps her pen against her planner. "Let’s focus on those rules."
"By all means, Ms. Carter. Let's hear them."
"First," she says, ticking off a finger, "this is strictly professional. We maintain the appearance of a relationship only when necessary. Specifically for the dinner with the Bennetts on Friday."
"Second," another finger, "minimal physical contact. Hand-holding if the situation requires it, nothing more."
"And third, this arrangement ends immediately after the Bennetts leave on Sunday."
I lean back, studying her serious expression. "Sounds simple enough. Though we might have a problem with rule number one."
Her eyes narrow. "What do you mean?"
"If we're only pretending when the Bennetts are around, how do we explain suddenly being engaged to my family? My mother knows everyone in town. If she hears we're engaged from someone else..."
"Your family doesn't need to know," she says quickly.
"Evie's friends with Harold Bennett," I point out. "They served on the same charity board. If she slips up or seems surprised about our engagement, he'll know something's off."
I watch the realization dawn on her face. She hadn't thought of that.
"So what do you suggest?" she asks finally.
"A trial run," I say, warming to the idea. "Dinner with my family tonight. We announce our engagement, practice being a couple, make it believable."
She looks horrified. "You want to lie to your entire family?"
"Only Jules knows this is fake, right?" I ask. "We'll tell everyone after the Bennetts leave that we decided we rushed things. No harm done."
"That's..." She shakes her head. "I didn't plan for this."
"Welcome to the Callahan world, sweetheart," I say, enjoying her discomfort perhaps a bit too much. "Not everything can be scheduled in that planner of yours."
She takes a deep breath, visibly gathering her composure. "Fine. Dinner with your family."
"Dinner's at seven. I'll pick you up at your cabin at six-thirty."
"Don't be late,” she says with a glint of amusement in her eyes.
"Wouldn't dream of it... fiancée."
As she navigates the stone patio with impressive skill despite her impractical shoes, Bear returns to my side, looking up with what I swear is a doggy grin.
"What do you think, buddy?" I ask him, scratching behind his ears. "We're having dinner with the family tonight, and I'm bringing home a fiancée."
His tail wags enthusiastically.
"Yeah," I murmur, watching her retreating form. "This should be interesting."