Chapter 23
SYLVIE
Emmy and I were rushing around my suite above the garage like we were getting ready for the Met Gala instead of a small Christmas party at a struggling mountain lodge. But that was the beauty of having a best friend who treated every social occasion like it deserved her full glamorous attention.
It wasn’t often we got to get girly. I rarely did my makeup and rarer yet was me in a dress. That didn’t mean I didn’t like to dress up. It just wasn’t practical in my life. I could admit I was putting in just a little more effort because of a certain someone.
My apartment was comfortable in the way that spaces are when they’ve been furnished slowly over time with pieces that have stories attached to them.
The sofa had come from a garage sale three towns over.
The coffee table had been my grandmother’s.
The bookshelf was made from reclaimed barn wood that Brom had found when they’d torn down the old storage building behind the lodge. I loved to recycle. And upcycle.
My vanity was the same one I had used since I was thirteen, complete with some glittery fairy stickers that I never had the heart to remove.
Every time I sat down to do my makeup, those faded stickers reminded me of the girl who used to dream about prince charming while practicing with her mother’s lipstick.
Emmy looked absolutely stunning in a slinky black dress that showed off her figure without being inappropriate for a family event.
She’d paired it with emerald earrings that brought out her eyes and a faux-fur jacket that had belonged to her grandmother.
The overall effect was pure old Hollywood glamour.
She was currently strutting around my small bedroom, pretending to puff on an invisible cigarette like Cruella de Vil while regaling me with stories from her shift at the coffee shop earlier that day.
“So this absolutely gorgeous guy comes in around two o’clock,” she said, striking a dramatic pose against my dresser. “Tall, blond, built like he spends his weekends chopping wood for fun. Orders a double espresso and asks if I know anything about the hiking trails around here.”
I applied another layer of mascara, trying to perfect the minimal but shimmery look I was going for. “Was he lost?”
“No, turns out he’s here visiting Lucy Gablestone.”
My hand paused midway to my eye. “Why is some strange guy visiting Lucy?”
Lucy had moved to Northwood a few years ago after meeting her future husband at a wedding.
She was sweet and had integrated well into our community.
I liked her, but I was not going to be complicit in a cheating scandal.
My loyalties would always be with the people I grew up with.
I had always felt protective of the people who chose to make our little town their home.
My radar immediately started pinging when Emmy mentioned some unknown man showing up to visit her.
Emmy laughed at my obvious concern. “Relax, mama bear. The guy is Lucy’s brother. He’s here to visit her before he heads home to see family in Florida for the holidays.”
I felt my shoulders relax. “Oh. Well, that’s nice. Lucy doesn’t get to see her family very often.”
“Exactly. And he seems really nice. Very polite, great tipper, and he asked about all the local businesses like he actually cares about supporting the community.”
I finished my makeup and moved on to my jewelry, selecting my only pair of Christmas earrings from the small collection in my jewelry box.
They were diamond snowflakes that my father had bought me for Christmas when I was sixteen.
I could still remember how excited he’d been to give them to me.
I remembered him telling me they were fit for a princess as he helped me put them on for the first time.
Those were the good old days.
The farm had been thriving then. Our income had been staggering compared to what we were dealing with now.
Those earrings represented a time when money wasn’t a constant source of anxiety, when we could afford little luxuries without calculating how they’d affect our ability to pay the electric bill.
I hoped with Kent’s money we could get back to those days. I didn’t want my parents to stress about the future. I wanted Aspen and Alder to have the luxury of growing up on the farm like we did. I loved my childhood. There was nothing I would change about it.
I slipped into my outfit for the evening, a dark green velvet dress that I’d bought on sale two years ago and had been saving for a special occasion.
The rich color complemented my hair and made my eyes look more vivid.
I paired it with black nylons and knee-high black boots that made me feel confident and put together.
The boots had a chunky one-inch heel. Completely manageable.
And I had put those traction thingies on the bottom.
It didn’t help a lot, but it was better than the slick soles.
As I was checking my reflection one last time, Emmy perched on the edge of my bed and gave me a knowing look.
“So, you’re wearing the dress.”
“I am.”
“You said you would only wear it when there was something special.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You didn’t wear it for the Christmas party last year.”
I knew what she was getting at, but I wasn’t about to make it any easier on her. If she wanted to call me out for dressing up, she was going to have to say it.
“That is correct.”
“Stop,” she groaned. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. It’s a party. It might be our last Christmas party. There’s no time like the present to wear it. I might not get another chance to.”
She slowly nodded. “Well, that’s depressing.”
I adjusted the neckline. It was a deep V.
Not risqué, but I rarely showed so much skin.
I spent most of my days in hoodies, old T-shirts, and the occasional stretched-out sweater.
The wrap dress had just a little bit of a slit in the front, but still modest by today’s standards.
The long sleeves would provide enough warmth. I wouldn’t need a jacket.
I turned to the left to check out the view from the back.
It looked good. Really good. I couldn’t remember a time when I felt pretty. I usually just felt normal. Average. But tonight I felt pretty.
I hoped Kent liked it.
“Fine, I’ll say it,” she said.
I grinned. “I’m waiting.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with your mysterious lodge guest lately. What’s the deal with you and Kent?”
I felt heat rise in my cheeks but tried to play it casual. “No deal. I’m just trying to show him what we’re all about, give him the full Northwood experience.”
“Uh huh.” Emmy’s expression suggested she wasn’t buying my innocent act. “And that’s the only reason you’ve been making heart eyes at him for the past few days?”
“I have not been making heart eyes.”
“Sylvie, honey, you look at that man like he’s a Christmas present you’re dying to unwrap.”
I couldn’t deny there was some truth to that, but I also couldn’t admit it out loud. Not when there was so much more at stake than just my personal feelings.
“He’s an attractive man.”
She snorted. “And snow is white. You’ve seen attractive men before. This is different. What gives?”
“He’s nice.”
“Grandmas are nice. Brothers are nice. That man is not nice.”
“He is nice.”
“Why?”
I sighed and turned to look at her.
“Don’t tell anyone,” I said, lowering my voice even though we were alone. “But he’s mentioned that his family might be able to help our financial situation.”
Emmy’s entire demeanor changed, her teasing expression replaced by genuine excitement. “Really? Like, really really?”
“Yes. Nothing is for sure, but he said he’ll talk to his family about it.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sleeping with him?”
“Emmy!”
“I know how much you love this place. Trust me, I’m not judging. If sex with him is the price to pay for a little cash influx, I’m down.”
“You make me sound like a prostitute.”
She giggled. “You’re just sweetening the pot.”
“I have sweetened no pots. And I wouldn’t. Not for that specific reason.”
“You look good,” she said, changing the subject. “I knew I loved that dress. It’s gorgeous. It really shows off your figure. I think I forgot you had curves.”
I laughed and turned to look at myself in the mirror. “You are just full of compliments tonight.”
“You look gorgeous, and you know it. Let’s go. I’m ready for some eggnog.”
I nodded and we headed downstairs and stepped out into the night.
“So, do you really think his family would give you guys money?” she asked. “Like a loan or something?”
“He says they’re always looking for investment opportunities, and he thinks this place has potential,” I said. “But don’t say anything. I don’t want to get anybody’s hopes up. We’ve literally only had one conversation about the possibility.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
It was cold as hell, but the lodge up ahead was glowing with warmth and activity. Christmas music and laughter poured out every time someone opened the front doors. The fifteen trees we’d decorated yesterday were twinkling in the dark night like a beacon for our guests.
And there, at the top of the porch steps with a drink in one hand and talking animatedly with Brom, was Kent.
He looked absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. His dark hair was slicked back. He’d shaved, so his jawline looked sharp enough to cut glass. His black peacoat made his shoulders look impossibly broad. Even from a distance, he commanded attention in a way that made my pulse quicken.
“Earth to Sylvie,” Emmy whispered, nudging me with her elbow.
“I’m here,” I said, forcing myself to look away from Kent before I started drooling. “Just… don’t tell anyone about the potential deal, okay? I need to make sure it’s real before I get everyone’s hopes up.”
Emmy looped her arm through mine as we started walking toward the lodge. “I told you I wouldn’t. I won’t.”
“Thank you.”
“Whatever you do, don’t sleep with him,” she said in a low voice.
My breath caught in my throat. “What?”
“I’m serious. Bancrofts are notorious for getting bored once they’ve conquered something.
I looked them up. I’ve seen no less than fifty pictures of this particular Bancroft.
He’s with a different woman in every photo.
And they are all looking at him just like you’re looking at him now.
If you sleep with him, he might decide he’s gotten everything he wanted from this place and move on to the next shiny object. ”
I’d been so caught up in my attraction to Kent, so hopeful about what his presence might mean for our family’s future, that I hadn’t considered the possibility that mixing business with pleasure could backfire in that particular way.
“Play it safe,” Emmy continued, squeezing my arm. “Keep things professional until the deal is signed and sealed. Then, if you still want to climb him like a Christmas tree, at least you’ll know the farm is secure first.”
I hoped Emmy couldn’t hear the way my breath hitched at her casual mention of the very thing I’d been fantasizing about for days. But she was right, and I knew it. This was too important to risk for the sake of physical attraction.
No matter how mind-meltingly attractive Kent Bancroft happened to be.