Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
Mark
T he main lobby of the ski resort hummed with energy. Large fireplaces stood framed by snow-dusted windows. I’d been to my fair share of ski resorts, but this place screamed luxury—polished and shiny, with groupings of expensive leather chairs and attentive staff guiding people along.
I paused to survey the area for a sign indicating the location of the event. Sure, I could have reviewed the paperwork my father gave me, but... eh. I was at the right resort and knew the approximate time. That felt like enough of a mental investment.
“Good evening, Mr. DeVoss,” a man said as he passed.
I didn’t respond but glanced around to see who he’d spoken to. Oddly, there was no one standing next to me.
After a rush of people passed by, chattering about not missing the celebrity match-up registration, I decided to follow the flow. On my way down a long hallway with windows on both sides, I accidentally bumped into a staff member who had stopped to speak to another worker. Although the collision was my fault, they apologized profusely before scattering.
As I passed the beverage station, the bartenders straightened and nodded. I returned the gesture.
“A drink, Mr. DeVoss?” one of them asked.
I halted and looked around. Just me again. “Sure,” I said with a smile. In return, I was handed a clear glass mug of mulled wine with a cinnamon stick and a slice of orange. Nice.
When there seemed to be no expectation of payment, I slid the bartender a generous tip and walked away with my warm beverage. No one would confuse me with a celebrity, but Mr. DeVoss had good taste. I raised my drink in salute to the man... wherever he was.
A long line of people halted my progress. Apparently, I’d reached the sign-in. The scantily clad woman in front of me bragged she was going to say she looked like all the blonde celebrities on the list because, with her recent nose job, she looked better than most of them.
Hey, kudos for being confident, I guess.
I sipped my wine and tried not to eavesdrop as her friend told her the high price of her purse, then her shoes. I didn’t know much about being rich, but I doubted they spent time comparing price tags.
A young woman, wearing a jacket and slacks, appeared at my side. “Is there something wrong, Mr. DeVoss?” she asked, then continued in a lower voice, “The line has been steady but moving along smoothly.”
Okay. “I can see that.”
Her eyebrows furrowed, and she gave me an odd look. “I was told you’d be entering through the far door.”
Following my father’s advice to say less, I simply raised my glass. Did DeVoss own the place? People seemed to think he was important.
“Oh, of course,” she said in a relieved tone. She glanced around, then leaned in to ask, “So, you’ll be entering this way?”
I shrugged, wondering if I should send her to the far door. I didn’t want her to miss the man she clearly didn’t know well enough to distinguish from me. She walked away while I debated explaining the situation without embarrassing her.
The line moved up, and I went with it. When I finally reached the registration desk, the woman taking names looked at me wide-eyed when I said, “Mark Walker.” I cleared my throat and added, “Put me down as a Hugh Jackman potential.”
Her head tipped to one side, and she didn’t immediately record my request. Instead, she waited as if expecting me to say more. “Oh, you’re serious,” she said in a surprised tone. “I didn’t know. Sorry.” She frantically began to hunt for my name tag. When she found it, she smiled and then, with a wink, said, “Here you go, Mr. Walker .”
I put my name tag on as I walked away and headed toward the entrance of the convention room. My expectation of enjoying the event had been low, but so far, it was proving amusing.
Once inside, I scanned the room, wondering if I’d spot anyone who might be mistaken for me. “Okay, Mr. DeVoss, I hope there’s a prize for looking like you because that’s the only way I’m walking out of here with a win.” I chuckled, then added under my breath, “Hopefully, you’re not old or ugly, and extra points if you end up being someone interested in talking about maple syrup.”