Chapter 3
ELOWEN
Elowen
By the time my train nears Chamonix, I have already had many moments of panic about my decision to accept this contract.
The snow outside the window stretches all the way to the peak of Mont Blanc, the sky a gray so pale that the view looks almost monotone. There is a thick line of dark pines closer to the train tracks, but the trees grow sparser the closer we get to the mountain.
I’ve been working for Valmonte Global for months now, doing per diem work that involves sitting in on virtual meetings and parsing contracts that aren’t written in English.
All of it has basically been a long training program for this trip, but now that I’ve nearly arrived at my destination, I want to go home an intense amount, job be damned.
The company booked me a private suite here on the train, but being alone with my own thoughts is almost worse than being with the crowds. As the minutes to arrival count down, I go over my itinerary for the millionth time, chewing on my thumbnail as I do so.
Valmonte Global Alpine Summit
Chamonix, France
Duration: Two weeks
My itinerary is nearly identical to Adam Valmonte’s, at least according to his assistant, Oliver.
It’s also subject to change at any moment.
The itinerary is packed with black-tie events and dinners with meetings and presentations scattered throughout.
It looks like a lot more networking than actual work, especially the planned ski expedition.
I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, and I’m getting paid enough to not care what events I’m dragged along to.
Well…I wouldn’t care, usually…but I’m working side by side with Adam Valmonte, his constant, French-fluent shadow, and that is something I do care about. Because I care about him, or the weird way I feel around him, if I’m being honest with myself.
I close the itinerary folder abruptly and sigh. This is work. That is all. Just work.
It’s been months since I’ve seen Adam Valmonte in person, virtually, yes, but not up close and physical enough to feel and breathe his presence.
The thought of it has my heart in my throat.
I still don’t understand why I became his top candidate, and part of me is afraid it was because he felt awkward during our initial churchyard meeting.
In virtual meetings, he’s a solemn figure, or even just an avatar, in a small computer window, but it’s not like we’ve spoken one-on-one.
Now, for the next two weeks, I’m meant to be at his side all the time.
This job alone will pay me enough to last nearly the rest of the year and could lead to even more work of the same caliber. I just have to make it through.
The train begins to slow as we approach the station, where a car is waiting to drive me the rest of the short distance to the ski resort. Professional. I tell myself over and over again. Professional!
The problem is that my body refuses to cooperate with my brain whenever Adam Valmonte is concerned.
Once off the train, I take my luggage and climb into the car waiting for me, squinting against the wind and the cold during my brief time outside.
The roads wind upward through the forest, fat snowflakes hitting the windshield of the car as the driver chats with me about the resort, allowing me to absorb any nuances of the local vernacular.
It helps center me and calm my nerves, giving me some hope that if I can just keep busy, everything will be okay.
The higher we climb, the more isolated it becomes, until finally the massive ski lodge emerges as we take a sharp turn. Evening is coming on fast, making the windows of the lodge glow welcomingly. It looks like something off a Christmas card. At least I know I’ll be comfortable while I’m here.
Uniformed staff greet the car as soon as we pull up, grab my luggage out of the trunk, and disappear inside while two others remain to escort me. I smooth my coat as we go, hoping I don’t look entirely out of place among everyone else here.
It’s equally as impressive inside, with towering walls and furniture made of polished wood, an enormous fireplace making up the centerpiece of the ground floor lobby.
A woman greets me at the reception desk, smiling like she’s genuinely thrilled to see me.
“Welcome to Le Sommet, Ms. Hart. Mr. Valmonte has been informed you’ve arrived and will be joining you shortly. ”
My pulse kicks up at the mention of his name, but I don’t even have time to pop into the restroom to tidy myself up before I hear a low baritone voice coming from behind me.
“And by shortly, she means now.”
I turn so quickly I nearly trip over my own feet to see Adam standing near the lobby entrance, wearing dark jeans and a half-zip sweater, his arms crossed. He looks different from last time I saw him, less hollow and more present.
“Hello, Ms. Hart.”
Thank goodness speech is part of my job, and I manage to sound put-together enough when I respond. “Mr. Valmonte.”
“We don’t have to maintain the formalities, since we’re going to be together so much this week.”
“Okay…Adam.” The lodge is alive and bustling around us, but it feels like we’re alone somehow. Why is his presence doing this to me?
“I hope the travel arrangements were comfortable.”
“They were wonderful, thank you.” It isn’t a lie, either. Everything has been perfectly streamlined, even if I’d been freaking myself out the entire time. But the freaking out I’d been doing in my own head was nothing compared to what I’m feeling now that we’re face to face.
“Good. You’ll have the evening to settle in before tomorrow’s meetings begin. Oliver should have sent you the finalized schedule.”
One single conversation and I’m already noticing all these details about him again: his deep voice, the faint shock of silver at his temples, and the way his attention is so utterly focused on the person he’s speaking to.
Right now, that’s me, and being the center of his attention feels like standing in a sunbeam.
“He did.”
“Good,” he repeats. “You have about an hour to settle in before we have the opening gala. Allow me to show you upstairs to your room. Your bags should have already been delivered.”
“Oh.” I take a beat to digest that before how casual the suggestion is sinks in. “I’m sure I can find my way there.”
“It’s on my way,” he insists, tilting his head towards the elevators. “Follow me.”
Having Adam anywhere near where I sleep seems like a wildly bad idea, but I have a feeling arguing will only prolong the interaction and run the risk of him catching on to just why I don’t want things to seem so casual between us.
Obediently, I follow him to the elevators, taking in just how confident he seems even in this place filled with strangers. Does he even notice it anymore, how the world shifts for him? I follow in his wake, just taking it all in.
When we reach the elevators, I silently pray that someone, anyone else, will join us in the confined space, but once the doors open, I know it’s just going to be the two of us.
The doors close, and I concentrate on keeping my breathing slow and even.
The walls are mirrored, and in an effort to look anywhere but at Adam, I meet the gaze of my reflection instead.
It’s a startling image. I’d dressed nicely but comfortably, soft slacks and a maroon sweater, but the hours and hours of travel have taken a toll on me. My cheeks are flushed from the cold, hair wind-tangled, and boots still wet from the snow outside.
My gaze darts to Adam’s reflection without my permission, and of course, he’s already watching me. His eyes hold my own for a fraction of a second before he looks away, clearing his throat, “The mountain is beautiful this time of year.”
The observation is a peace offering, and I take it. “It’s breathtaking. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
"Have you not traveled much?"
"Not like this," I admit. "It's sort of out of my tax bracket."
Adam laughs, the sound genuine, and it transforms him. For a moment, the serious billionaire is gone, replaced by a handsome man who looks like he actually enjoys the world around him. "You're working for me now, Elowen. Welcome to the tax bracket."
The elevator slides to a smooth stop, and the doors open onto a plush, carpeted hallway that dulls the sounds of our footsteps.
He stops in front of a door near the end of the corridor, and my heart gives a nervous little flutter.
He pulls a keycard from his pocket and swipes it, pushing the door open for me before stepping back.
I have a brief moment where I consider asking why he has a keycard for my room, but maybe things are just different here. I mean, in France.
"After you," he says.
I walk in, and the room is… wow. A four-poster bed sits in the center of the room with luxurious silk sheets. One wall is entirely made of glass, with a perfect view of the mountain peak and the valley below. The fire is already going, a soft glow in the dark room.
I step further inside, craning my neck to look at everything, and I turn to find Adam leaning against the doorframe, not stepping inside. "Is this… right?" I ask, laughing a little. “This seems like it's for, I don't know, a head of state."
"A guest of Valmonte Global is more important than a head of state," he says with a chuckle, "Your luggage is there.
" He gestures towards a large, mahogany wardrobe standing open, revealing my suitcase.
"I'm sure you want to get ready for the gala.
I'll have someone come up and escort you down in an hour. Don't be late."
"I won't.”
He gives me a final, unreadable look, then he's gone, the door clicking shut behind him. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding and lean against the wardrobe for support.
The gala. Right.
The dress I've picked out for tonight is black, long-sleeved, and simple, made of shimmering silk, with a plunging back. It’s elegant, understated, and I hope it’s enough to blend in.