20. Will
Chapter twenty
Will
I wake with a smile. Mia is snuggled against my chest; the scent of her shampoo makes me feel like I’m at home. I angle my hips away from her, hoping to avoid assaulting her with my morning wood. She sleepily pushes her ass back into my hips and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath.
I could get used to waking like this. I muster up some self-control and extract myself with surgical precision so I don’t wake her. I open the curtains a little so she can wake up to gentle light.
She is stunning.
Her hands are tucked under her chin, and she looks so fucking beautiful I almost can’t pull myself away.
I jump into the shower. My balls will not last the whole day with her after waking up that hard this morning. After a release, I brush my teeth, dress, then head back into the bedroom. Mia’s already up when I come in, buttoning her shirt, bare stomach on display.
“Did I wake you?”
“No, I think when you got up my body just knew you were gone.” She smiles over at me and I melt. Her body just knew? For fuck’s sake. Is she trying to kill me?
She’s wearing dark jeans and a white button-down top, and it’s so simple and so, so hot. Though, she could wear just about anything and still be the most gorgeous woman in the room, if you ask me. She’s sitting in front of the mirror in the bedroom and starts pulling out all sorts of shit for her face, mascara, moisturizer, stuff for her hair.
I watch, perched on the side of the bed. “Is getting ready always this elaborate? I don’t think I’ve watched you before.”
“Yep,” she says, smoothing her hair down, then bouncing the shiny curls up from the bottom.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to a contraption that looks kind of like scissors, but has an arched tweezer bit on the end.
“This?” Mia picks it up. I nod. “An eyelash curler. Come here, I’ll do yours.”
I look at her dubiously but kneel down in front of her. She brings the curler to my eyelash, holding my face in her other hand. As she gets closer, I jerk away.
“Hey! Stay still.”
“Sorry. You try staying still when that thing comes for your eyeball!”
“Watch,” she says, turning to the mirror and showing me on herself. “Now you.” She turns back to me, cradling my face again. I can almost taste the toothpaste on her breath, she’s so close.
This time, I manage to keep myself still for long enough for her to finish one eye.
“Look,” she says, running her hand down my face.
I turn to the mirror. “Oh yeah, I see. They’re curled. Cool.”
“I need to do your other eye, or you’ll look lopsided.”
This conversation is so weirdly intimate. Definitely not our usual subject of conversation. I shuffle back to the bed, grabbing my book to fill in time until she’s done. I can still feel her soft hand touching my cheek. Nothing can stop me from sneaking glances at her.
Something clatters as it hits the ground. Moments later, Mia is crawling under the desk, ass on display.
“Jesus, Mia,” I groan.
Her head shoots up, hitting the bottom of the desk. “What was that?” Her voice is muffled. I said that out loud. Fuck.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”
She glares at me suspiciously. She had heard me. Fuck.
In the lift on our way down to the restaurant, I can feel her looking at me. “You look really nice,” she says.
“Thanks. You look really nice too.” I glance down. I’m wearing dark jeans and a close fitting grey t-shirt I know suits me. Matt’s always telling me I should buy more of the same shirts.
“What is it?” she asks as she catches me staring at her over breakfast. “I’ve been trying to rub jam off my face all morning.”
I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Just you. Sometimes I forget how beautiful you are.” A satisfying pink blush creeps up her neck to her face. We’re here. We’re sharing a bed. There’s got to be no better place to test the waters. I just need to see whether I get anything back from her.
“Thank you,” she says, almost a whisper.
She opens her mouth to say more, then suddenly, her attention shifts to behind me, and she groans under her breath.
I twist in my chair. “Damn. I think they want to chat.” One guy looks vaguely familiar, but I don’t recognize the woman at all. Is he that douche Bryce? I can’t place him.
The second Mia smiles and nods at them, they come rushing over, hovering over us.
“Jeez, would you sit down? It’s hard to eat while you’re looming,” I say, standing up to grab them each a chair. I hope Mia doesn’t mind.
“Sorry!” The woman says, sitting down.
“How are you both?” Mia asks. “Will, this is—”
“Hi, I’m Will. I’m with Mia.” I try to avoid physically cringing at how awkward I sound around her today.
Mia’s eyebrows rise across the table, but she continues with her introductions. "Ingrid and Damien." I shovel scrambled eggs into my mouth. Hopefully, keeping my mouth full will prevent anything else stupid from coming out.
“We wanted to invite you to lunch,” Ingrid says.
“That sounds great, I’m sure Will and I can make that work. I’d love to know more about what to expect at the party.”
“'I’m with Mia’?” she asks the second Ingrid and Damien are out of sight.
I drop my head into my hands, but honestly, I don’t hate that Mia’s giving me a bit of a hard time. It feels natural between us. “I know, I know. So awkward. I thought that might have been Bryce, and…I wanted to protect you. Sorry for the bullshit macho stuff.” I risk a glance at her.
Mia’s face softens, then she speaks so quietly I have to lean forward to hear her. “That’s not the worst idea. People here know I’ve inherited the resorts, and I always worry that people will like…” She searches for the right words.
“You’re worried that people are getting close to you for the wrong reasons?” I guess, trying to match her volume.
She nods, lips tight. “It’s stupid, I know. I’ve been thinking about it for a wee while now, but it’s felt dumb to bring it up. But it would make me feel less vulnerable if people here think I'm partnered up. I’m sure everyone here thinks we’re together anyway.” Two spots of bright pink appears high on her cheeks. I don’t want to waste the chance.
“Alright, then. Fancy a walk, babe?”
We arrive for lunch at the same time as Damien and Ingrid. They usher us in, and I can’t resist putting my hand on the small of Mia’s back to guide her. I feel like a teenager, so eager to touch her in whatever way I can get away with.
“Before we talk about the Christmas party, there’s something we wanted to discuss quickly, Mia,” Damien says, glancing at Ingrid, who nods. Mia tenses next to me, and I slip my hand onto her thigh, just above her knee.
“It’s none of our business, and we don’t want to influence you—” Damien shoots a sharp look at Ingrid. Clearly he doesn’t mind influencing at all. Ingrid continues, a slight tone in her voice, ignoring Damien’s glare. “—but we do think it’s crucial you don’t make a decision without all of the information.”
Mia nods slowly. Maybe she knows more about what was going on than I do. I have a gut feeling it won’t be great news, though.
“Bryce is fucking up the resorts,” Damien says, and this time, the sharp look comes from Ingrid. Damien meets her with an equally withering glare.
“What? He is. He’s undoing a whole bunch of things that have been around in the resorts for years. He’s changing processes that work to save money, and it’s risking damaging the excellent reputation we have built over years. We’re double-booking guests, not having enough trained ski instructors scheduled, so classes have to be cancelled—Christ, he’s even reducing portion sizes to save money.”
I squeeze Mia’s knee. Okay, so this guy is trying to milk the resorts dry, presumably for profit. I can see the gears churning in her head. “Why? Are the resorts not making enough money?” she asks.
“No, we’re making about the same profit as we have for years, broadly speaking. There are ups and downs, of course, but things are pretty stable. I’ve brought the accounts for Montagne étoilée, if you want to see them.” Damien isn’t defensive, but he’s close. She shakes her head. I move my hand higher. She shudders underneath my touch.
“That won’t be necessary. I believe you. Any idea why he’s making changes?” I find it difficult to imagine that she hasn’t already put two and two together. Perhaps she wants confirmation.
Damien shrugs, glancing at Ingrid. “To make more money? We have slightly different views about why he’s doing it.”
My focus snaps to Ingrid. “My view is he cares more about the money than anything. Damien thinks it’s more than that.”
“He doesn’t care about the legacy. I think he’s hoping you’ll sell all your shares and he’ll be able to buy them. I think Ingrid’s right, in some ways. Ultimately, it is about money, but I think what he wants is full control.” Damien takes a deep breath and a sip of his water, then launches back into it. God this guy can talk. “He never liked Craig’s approach. It wasn’t profit-driven enough—and he doesn’t mind telling people what he thinks about that. And now he can do something about it.”
Mia’s thigh tenses under my hand, and she places her hand on top of mine. She speaks calmly.
“I’m not in a position to run the resorts. I’ve got no skills in that area.” She picks up her water glass with her other hand. “Surely you, Ingrid, and the other resort managers are able to influence this? You manage the resorts?”
Ingrid explains that it’s not as simple as individual managers making decisions about their individual resorts. The benefits packages for staff are standard across all the resorts. Craig built a system where there are overarching policies that apply to all the resorts. That makes it vulnerable if that overarching policy changes like Bryce is doing right now.
“Alice told me that you and Will were double booked for this trip. If we can’t even get it right for the owner , imagine how bad it is for regular guests.” Ingrid sighs. She looks exhausted.
“How often are you having errors like that?” I ask, glancing at Mia. Hopefully she doesn’t mind me asking. She gives me a tight smile, which I interpret as her being grateful I asked.
“It’s happening every day. We manage to catch most of them manually with an audit process after every phone and online booking. But once or twice a week we miss one and oversell rooms. It’s worse at the moment because we’re so close to fully booked. The scheduling is done centrally too, so we’re also sometimes short-staffed without warning.” That extra process must be such a pain for them.
Mia catches my eye. She’s struggling with this, trying to figure out where her responsibility stands and ends, I know.
Ingrid threads her hands together and leans forward. “I don’t want to sound callous, and I know a lot has changed in your life, but some of these people working for me have been working here for their entire careers. I remember we talked about this at Craig’s memorial. This is their home and their family. I think you should care about that.” Her voice breaks. I bristle. Mia hasn’t asked for this. Why should she be forced into doing anything about it when she has her own job and life to worry about?
“Mia does care. Just because she didn’t jump into running the resorts immediately doesn’t mean she doesn’t have feelings about it.” I turn to Damien, hoping he’ll see some sense here. “When she came back from France a few weeks ago, she wouldn’t shut up about how concerned she was about the legacy. You need to cut her some slack. Everything about her entire life has changed.”
I must be squeezing Mia’s thigh, because she puts her hand over mine, and squeezes me back.
“Will’s right, I do care about the resorts. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have the right skill-set. I was leaving it to a person I thought was a professional.” She sounds small. Defeated.
She sighs, and takes her hand off mine, then runs it through her hair.
“Thank you for raising this with me. I need some time to consider what you’ve said, and think about a way forward.” Her voice is firmer now. Back to the Mia I know. “If I have questions, am I able to come back and talk to you both again?”
Ingrid and Damien look at each other, with satisfied expressions on their faces. Not quite smiles, but they look less concerned now than they had when we first sat down.
“Of course. I’m staying around for a few days after the party, so I’ll be here until Tuesday. Whatever you need.”