Chapter 4
HANNAH
Morning light filters through one of the nearby windows as I open my eyelids.
Snugged nice and tight under the many blankets Snowy Peak provides for their guests, my mind and body are calm for the first time in I don’t know how long.
I wiggle my toes and wipe the crust from the corners of my eyes, stretching my arms high above my head.
I text Maya, asking if she’s awake, but I only get crickets in response.
There’s a good chance she stole a bottle of wine from the kitchen after she hightailed it out of there, trying to avoid Gift Card Dude during charades.
She most likely drank the whole bottle. Can I blame her?
No, but replaying how it happened still results in uncontrollable laughter as I finish my stretch.
Slapping my forehead, I remember I forgot to call my mom and send her a quick text to let her know I’ll catch up with her later, then hop out of bed, my stomach rumbling for some breakfast.
Taking a quick shower, I check every inch of my body for possible hair growth. I swear it’s growing faster by the minute, constantly removing pesky hairs from my chin, now a couple on my neck, to make sure I’m not walking outside in werewolf form.
I toss clothes out of my suitcase like a madwoman, finding my favorite pair of black leggings and my favorite cream turtleneck. I need to stop packing my favorite outfits at the bottom; I’m just setting myself up to ruin perfectly folded clothes.
A dab of concealer, a couple of strokes of mascara, and I’m good to go. I can’t wait to start taking photos of my favorite place.
Nothing smells more heavenly than the freshly fallen snow when I open my door.
I inhale deeply, enjoying the notes of pine that come my way, and look up to find clear skies as I walk along the snowy path.
New footprints made in the snow bring my mood way up, and I’m smiling as my boots crunch, a satisfying sound with every step.
As I make my way to the main building, I’m already getting hit with the scent of pancakes and delicious bacon, making my mouth water as I enter.
Some guests are already awake, sitting by the fire, reading or keeping cozy.
A line has started to form by the dark, oak double doors to the dining hall, and the lights strung along the banister and checkout desk, woven into garlands, shine bright and colorful.
Even the coffee table has a red table runner and green candles placed in silver holders.
Jill comes downstairs moments after I enter, carrying a small black box. “Hannah, I was wondering if you would like to add this ornament to the tree.” She opens the lid, and my heart swells three sizes.
“The Maya and Hannah forever ornament,” comments Jill.
I smile. “I can’t believe you still have this.” I can still see the smudged paint on the end of my name when Maya bumped into me. We were thirteen and a little hysterical back then.
“It’s a classic piece. I couldn’t let it go.” She hands it over while we walk together to her Christmas tree. I place it next to a round, red ornament, admiring its place.
“It’s good to know it’ll always have a home.” The bell to the dining hall chimes a second time, reminding stragglers that breakfast is being served.
Jill places the empty box on the coffee table. “Go eat, and when you’re done, you can meet me outside.”
I nod, making my way to the line and pushing through the double wooden doors, where I’m hit with the warmth and the smell of maple syrup and crispy bacon.
The line inches along a buffet-style setup, people loading up on a variety of foods. I pile my plate with a couple of blueberry pancakes, some bacon, and fruit. A dollop of syrup and a cup of orange juice round out the meal. I’m about to exit the line when someone creeps up beside me.
I almost drop my food, jumping when Maya, hiding behind sunglasses and a baseball cap, appears.
“What are you doing?”
She ignores me and scopes out the scene. “Is he here?”
It takes me a second to register, and we make our way over to an empty table with her up my ass, trying to use me as coverage. “Gift card dude?”
“No, Sasquatch. Yes, Gift Card Dude!” She drags a chair, pushing it against mine until we’re touching knee caps. “I haven’t seen him yet, but that doesn’t mean the slimy bastard didn’t slip through the cracks.”
I chew on some bacon. “It might be easier if you just, oh, I don’t know, tell him the truth and move on?”
Maya steals my other piece of bacon, a look of horror on her face. “So he can sweet-talk his way back in? Absolutely not!”
“For someone so quick to cut people off—”
She waves her hands in my face. “Usually, I never see them again!” Her voice reaches several octaves higher than usual as she pulls her hat lower to cover her eyes, fidgeting in her seat.
Surrounding tables filled with families stop mid-bite to watch Maya’s semi breakdown.
She gives them dirty looks. “What? Never seen a girl lose her shit before?”
“Oh my god, Maya, you have to relax.” I try to apologize for her behavior, getting some dirty looks in return, along with one woman commenting on her inappropriate language in front of children.
Ignoring me, she proceeds to take fruit off my plate. “Great batch today.”
I try to playfully stab her with my fork. “So, go get your own, you heathen.”
Maya pops a blueberry in her mouth and almost chokes. “Shit.” I smack her back while she heaves, trying to get the fruit down. Eventually, it passes, and she breathes heavily over the table, gasping for air. “He’s here!”
I look around, trying to spot Gift Card Dude, but Maya has already rushed out the back, leaving a smoke trail in her haste. The girl is insane, but I love her.
Shaking my head, I toss my plate in the trash and go look for Jill, locating her outside, standing next to a man on a ladder while she hands him a section of white lights.
“I figure we can start inside since we’ve finished with the decorations.
I was also wondering if you could take a couple of night shots with everything lit up? ”
“Yeah! No problem! I’ll take some test shots inside first before I begin,” patting my camera bag with pride. I love my job.
“Awesome, and if you need to adjust objects or the lighting, you have my full permission.” Jill finishes handing over the line of lights, and they move on to another section of the roof.
I sent Maya a text, giving her my location.
Me: I’m about to take photos in the front lobby if you need me.
Maya: Okay, I’m currently stalking the bachelor party by the ski lift.
Me: Wow, you move fast.
Maya: I don’t like to waste time ;)
Me: Are any of them cute?
Maya: Two, the others are definitely married, besides the groom.
I knew my next text would put her into a panic state, but I couldn’t resist.
Me: What if…omg they use gift cards? Lol.
Maya: If you curse me, I will shave your head while you sleep.
Me: Love you too.
Maya: Bye, bitch.
I shake my head, laughing, and slip my phone back into my coat pocket. Unzipping my camera bag, I pull out my Nikon Z5, wiping the 35mm lens with a microfiber cloth to make sure it’s clear and clean before I begin any test shots.
With the strap around my neck, I move through the room in different positions, taking pictures in the best light.
Some of the kids pose by the couch, giggling as I get down on my knees to take close-ups, making silly faces.
I take photos of couples on the couch, cozying up and enjoying the small fire, then move to the front desk, catching Joan, the receptionist, handing a set of keys to a couple, snapping the exchange from a distance.
As the shutter sounds and I capture more and more of this beloved resort, I start to envision what Jill and Anthony’s new website could look like, and I can’t wait to share with them how they could market this place even better.
Smiling to myself, I continue taking photos, even some of their dining hall, where people linger by the buffet table, looking for leftovers from breakfast. Once I have a good collection of the interior, I pull out my phone and make notes on which areas I need to tackle next and which ones I’ve already done, checking if Jill and Anthony want me to retake anything or add more.
I’m about to make my way over when I collide with a hard body. “Oh, I’m sorry!”
“No, my apologies, Miss.” A man, all but five feet tall in a thick winter coat, helps me keep my balance.
He seems strangely out of place for how he’s dressed.
He's wearing a green scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, and he carries a black briefcase, brown leather gloves gripping the handle.
His hair is white as the snow, with a beard to match.
“I’m looking for Mr. and Mrs. Gomez. You wouldn’t happen to know them?” he asks, adjusting his jacket.
“Yes, actually. Jill is over by the cabins. I think she was by cabin five,” I explain.
He nods in appreciation. “Thank you. Have a good rest of your day,” then walks off without a response, following the old footprints in the snow.
Strange, never seen him before.
After twenty minutes of test shots, with a frozen nose, I decide to take a break and look for some hot chocolate, praying someone brought the cart out.
What I find is an empty lounge, and the coffee counter is nowhere to be seen. Maybe there’s some in the dining hall. Usually, they leave a cart out before the snack bar is replenished.
A freshly stocked hot chocolate station catches my attention, and I make my way over with a little more pep in my step.
Hushed whispers pull my attention from the warmth of my freshly poured hot chocolate, and I recognize Jill and Anthony conversing with another man. I tiptoe closer, leaving my mug behind, and duck behind the stainless steel counter, where the chef's door is ajar.
Anthony is sitting behind a desk, Jill perched on the edge, and the white haired man from earlier sits across from them, his back toward me.
“The numbers don’t lie, you’re underperforming,” he says, handing a stack of papers over to Anthony.
Jill purses her lips. “Are you sure? Not even the sales from last year helped?”
He shakes his head. “I recounted several times. The revenue has decreased over time, but your profit dropped drastically once other neighboring ski resorts came into play.”
Anthony skims through the papers, jaw flexing. “It looks like this is our last season.”
“You have until February, maybe, if you’re lucky. I suggest finding a buyer sooner rather than later.”
Jill runs her hands down her face, frustration coating her words. “If we’re lucky?”
It registers then that his man is their accountant. Holy shit. I’m eavesdropping on something serious. I can’t be here.
I’m about to take my leave when the next words out of their accountant’s mouth halt me in place.
“You guys had an excellent twenty-five-year run, not a lot of places survive that long. Maybe it’s time to move on while you can.”
I slowly back away, away from the hot chocolate cart, my steaming cup left behind. Once I’m out of earshot, I run as fast as I can to find Maya—dashing between tables, weaving past other guests, nearly knocking over a little kid, trying to dodge a family heading toward the exit.
No, no, this can’t happen. Not now. Not when I finally stopped making stupid excuses and came back.
To lose my second home would be like losing my dad all over again.
My lungs burn the harder my legs pump, and everyone catches sight of the girl running like a crazy person with a mission to complete.
Because there’s no way Snowy Peak Resort is closing.