Chapter 11 #2
“And the cake’s cut at two thirty.” She peered more closely at the photo. “I think that’s the main hall.”
She showed me the picture, and I squinted at the surroundings before nodding. “Looks like.”
Zaila trotted back up the hill toward the main hall in the distance. “I guess I’ll get my steps in today.”
I was pretty sure she got them every day, as did I, but I appreciated her positive outlook on this rather silly game.
Our clue led us to a massive birthday cake, now on display in the center of the dining room.
Zaila snapped her shot moments before chaos erupted as a toddler, moving with surprising speed, darted past us and face planted directly into the cake.
Frosting flew everywhere, including onto my suit, face, and hair.
Zaila snapped a photo of the disaster, then one of me. “Got one before he body slammed it, so it wasn’t just uncut, it was untouched.”
The child’s mortified mother rushed over, apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know. We’re only here for the golf tournament. Oh, Zack, look at you…”
Zaila’s eyes met mine, sparkling with mirth, and as I laughed I felt my initial irritation slide into a warmth that had nothing to do with the Texas heat.
“No problem,” I assured the mother. “Honestly, that’s something my brother and I would have done.” I swiped at my face with a napkin.
Only after I said it did I realize I’d mentioned Karl. I never talked about Karl. His memory was mine—the only piece of him I still had, really.
I excused myself to the restroom and removed as much of the icing as possible.
Then I splashed cold water on my face, as much to calm my nerves as to get rid of the sticky residue.
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” I murmured to the mirror.
“Karl would have found that kid’s stunt hilarious. Mentioning him is understandable.”
Once I’d calmed myself, I returned to meet Zaila in the entry. She didn’t mention my brother, and I didn’t bring him up again. She was now all business. “The cake had big roses on it, so I’m assuming we head out into the garden,” Zaila said.
“Good thing we got there before the message was smooshed,” I said, holding open the door to the resort’s lush gardens. As we searched for our next clue, I overheard a snippet of conversation from a nearby gazebo.
“We’re almost finished here,” a man’s voice cut through the thickening afternoon air. “We need to move fast before someone else swoops in.”
I grabbed Zaila’s arm, my eyes wide. “Did you hear that? It must be about our next clue.”
Zaila looked skeptical, but I was already marching towards the gazebo. As I rounded the corner, I found myself face to face with a young couple, the man down on one knee with a ring box in his hand.
“Uh...congratulations?” I stammered. The woman looked mortified, and the man glared at me as if I’d just checked him into the boards.
“I’ll just…” The woman darted away, leaving Zaila, the would-be fiancé, and me staring at each other.
“Erm…gotta go,” I said, my face flushing as I grabbed Zaila’s arm and we retreated. “I swear, I’m usually much better at reading situations,” I muttered.
“Sure you are, Mr. Billionaire,” she teased. “Though, I think the lady was happy to have you gate-crash.”
“Seemed like it,” I agreed. “She dodged a bullet, seeing as there was nothing romantic about that proposal.”
Zaila glanced up at me, the corners of her mouth lifted. “Ah. Then I’ll know what to expect should you ever propose—promises of undying love and lots of flowers and balloons and candles.”
“Who said anything about that rubbish?” I asked as I buttoned my suit jacket. With a sigh, I swiped some additional icing onto the handkerchief I kept in my pocket.
“You did,” Zalia said.
“No, I didn’t. Quit wasting time; let’s find the actual clue.”
We eventually found the next envelope, which contained a paper that read: Capture the spirit of Texas in one shot.
“Easy enough,” I said, pulling out my phone. I scanned the area and spotted a cactus near a decorative wagon wheel. “Perfect! Nothing says Texas like a cactus, right?”
I lined up the shot, ensuring that both the cactus and the wagon wheel were in frame. As I was about to take the picture, a resort employee dressed as a cowboy walked by.
“Even better!” I exclaimed, snapping the photo.
Zaila peered over my shoulder and burst out laughing. “Gunnar, I don’t think that’s quite what they meant.”
I looked at the photo and realized I’d captured the cowboy-costumed employee mid-sneeze, his face contorted and hat askew, with the cactus appearing to sprout from his head thanks to the angle.
“You know, for someone who owns a hockey team, you’re surprisingly bad at following instructions.”
I chuckled. “Maybe I should stick to what I know best.”
“I don’t think people want another lecture on quarterly profits,” Zaila said. “So maybe you just need the right partner to keep you on track.”
Our eyes met, and for a moment, I forgot all about the scavenger hunt. “Maybe you’re right,” I murmured as awareness sparked along all my nerve endings.
“Th-the answer,” Zaila said, pointing to an envelope taped to a saddle atop the chuck wagon.
“Hmm... That’s a way to do it,” I said. “My photo was a better idea.”
“Sure it was. Except it didn’t take us to the next clue.”
“Final one,” I said, reaching for the envelope. “Most teams won’t finish this hunt, but thanks to your excellent sleuthing skills, we’ve got a solid shot at winning.”
I read our last clue, which had us searching for a piece of ice, of all things.
I spotted a cooler and charged for it, determined to beat Zaila to the punch.
However, in my haste, I slipped on a patch of wet grass.
I grabbed for something to steady myself, but instead of finding support, I found Zaila’s hand.
We went down in a tangle of limbs, sliding toward the lake and sending ice cubes flying everywhere.
Thankfully we stopped before reaching the water, and for a moment, we lay there, stunned. Then Zaila started laughing, and I did, too. After a moment, I realized how close we were, her body warm against mine.
“You know,” she said, her voice low, “you’re not very graceful on your feet.”
I grinned, making no move to get up. “I’m usually more coordinated, both on and off the ice.”
“I’d like to see you play again,” she replied, her eyes meeting mine.
When we finally stood and brushed ourselves off, I decided this corporate retreat had turned out far more entertaining than I could have imagined. As we walked towards the resort entrance, I glanced at Zaila. Maybe, these team-building exercises weren’t so bad after all.