9. Gia
9
Gia
“I told you not to go out to Harbor Point,” I sigh into the phone.
“Oh, Gia, don’t be upset,” my father says into the phone. “We didn’t realize there was a blizzard rolling in.”
Blizzard, indeed. The gentle snow is now a full-on storm outside the window. Now, my mom and dad are stuck in Harbor Point until the storm lets up or until the roads clear. And given how high up we are on the mountain, that could be days.
“We’ll head out as soon as it’s safe,” he says. “We’ve booked a hotel room for the night, and hopefully, it’s sunny tomorrow, and all the snow melts away.”
Not likely. But I’ll remain optimistic. It’s just that Christmas is in three days and I came out here specifically to spend it with my parents, to forget all the mess back in L.A. Not be stressed out because of a snowstorm.
“Ask her if she has everyone in the main building,” I hear Mom ask in the background of the call.
“Ah, yes, Gia, do you?—”
“Everyone’s here. But none of the guests have showed up,” I say and look down at the reservation book. “The Charles family called to say their flight was canceled, but…” I put my finger on the other name in the book. Franklin Martin. Another lone traveler. Strange. “I haven’t heard from the other reservation yet.”
Dad tsks. “All right, well, hopefully they’re all right. You keep us updated if you—” The line goes quiet.
“Dad? Dad? Can you hear me?” They must have hit a dead spot. I pull my phone away from my ear.
No. They didn’t hit a dead spot. We lost cell service. And the Wi-Fi symbol has disappeared from my phone, too. I sigh. This isn’t good. Not at all. I grab the landline phone on the desk and pick it up. There’s a dial tone, at least, but I doubt I’ll be able to make any calls.
“Everything okay?”
I look up to see Kade leaning in the doorway to the common room. My cheeks grow hot. He looks so good in his Henley shirt and slouchy jeans. I can still feel the mark of his kiss on my cheek like it’s been tattooed there, the prickle of his stubble. “Um. Fine.”
Kade raises a dark eyebrow. He sees through me. Guess it’s all that reconnaissance training or something. Which probably means he can see how he gets me all fluttery and excited and out of sorts too. Maybe that’s why he was so resistant to kissing me earlier.
“Well, not totally fine,” I amend. “My parents are stuck in Harbor Point.”
“They okay?” he asks, taking a few steps closer to me.
Thank goodness there’s a desk behind us. That makes me feel safe in a strange way. “Yeah, they booked a hotel. The roads are a mess, though, and visibility is low.”
Kade glances out the window. “Yeah, I see that. Or don’t see at all.”
It takes me a moment to get the joke, but then I laugh .
“Don’t laugh at that, it was stupid.”
“It was funny!”
Kade’s lips perk up to the side, and he shakes his head.
I chew on the inside of my cheek. There are so many thoughts flicking around my head, I don’t know where to start. And it doesn’t help that when Kade is around, he is every other thought. Blizzard, Kade, cell service, Kade, Wi-Fi, Kade, guests ? —
“I’m sorry I dragged you out here,” I sigh.
Kade’s eyebrows jump. “Gia, no, it’s?—”
“I thought it would be relaxing and good to be here with my parents, and now they’re not even here, and then I made you and Bryn come out here, and, I mean, I practically blackmailed you!”
He scoffs. “You didn’t blackmail me.”
“Oh, come on, you know I did.”
Kade leans on the desk, closer to me. I want to tell him not to do that as much as I want to pull him closer. “You bribed me, sure, but that makes it sound insidious, and I know… I know your intentions were good, Gia.”
I stare into his blue eyes. “But intentions don’t mean anything if the impact?—”
“I’m glad to be here with you, okay?”
I stop talking and don’t even remember what words were supposed to follow.
“And Bryn,” he clarifies. “And your parents, of course.”
“Right. Of course.” I look down at the guest book again. He’s too handsome for his own good. “What if they don’t make it back for Christmas?”
“They will.”
“But the roads around here, you know how bad they can get. What if?—”
Kade touches my chin, guiding my head back up. Almost like he might kiss me. “ Gia . ”
I have no choice but to remain arrested by his beauty.
“They’ll make it in time for Christmas,” he says quietly. Just for me. His hand still resting under my chin. The perfect place to guide my mouth closer to his if he wanted.
Something intensifies in my chest, like a magnet. I find myself leaning forward. And Kade, too, moves his head closer.
It’s happening. Is this happening?
Before I can kiss him, the lights go out. Cosmic interruption. Kade’s hand falls from my jaw, and he backs away. Shouts and gasps erupt from the dining room, and I hear something crash from the kitchen, and Abigail curse.
“Oh no,” I say, fumbling around the desk for a flashlight. We have flashlights in every room. Power up to the mountain can be dicey. When my hand lands on the big beam flashlight. The lights flicker back on. “Thank goodness.”
“You okay?” Kade asks.
“Fine, I need to—” I stumble out from behind the desk and head toward the dining room. “Need to check on the guests.”
It’s for the best that happened. We’re getting cabin fever. I mean, it’s kind of early for it to set in, but it’s easier for me to chalk up that almost kiss to some mental break than either of us actually wanting it. Because if we both want it, that means we have to deal with it, and I don’t know how or what that would look like.
“Everyone! Don’t panic. I have a flashlight!” I cry out as I enter the dining room.
“Is the power going to go out?!” Harriet chirps.
“If it does, we have a generator. It might take me a few minutes to get it started, but?—”
“I don’t have any cell service,” Andrew says, holding up his phone .
“Yeah, that happens out here,” I reply. “Especially in bad weather.”
His face tightens. “I need to call my girlfriend and tell her that she shouldn’t come up in this weather.”
“I think she’ll get the memo,” I say, pointing out the window.
Andrew’s face heats. Oh no. “But that’s not—I need to?—”
Kade comes up from behind me and heads to Andrew. “You can’t control everything, man. It’ll be okay.”
Andrew calms at Kade’s words, looking down at his phone screen mournfully. I’ll need to thank Kade for that later.
“Everything will be okay,” I say. “Bryn?—”
“Yeah, what can I do?” she asks, getting out of her chair.
“I need you to take the master key.” I take the ring of keys out from my pocket and hold it out by a singular key. “Every room has a flashlight in the nightstand. Grab as many as you can and distribute them.”
Bryn takes the key and scuttles out of the dining room.
The kitchen door flies open, and Abigail sticks her head out. There’s a splatter of sauce across her apron and speckles of it on her face. “A little help in here!”
“Kade, could you?—”
“On it,” he says, giving Andrew a final pat on the shoulder before heading to the kitchen.
I stand like a limp ragdoll in the dining room. This is a disaster.
“You’re doing great, kid,” Harold says with a thumbs up.
I try to smile. “Thanks, Harold.”
We’ll be fine. If the power goes out, I can start the generator. And yes, it’s not great that we don’t have cell access or Wi-Fi, but once the blizzard lets up, we might get that back sooner rather than later, even if the roads aren’t clear.
Everything is going to be?—
“Hello? Is anyone here?” a man’s voice calls out from the front hall.
A voice I know. Too well. British-accented and bubbling. I know it from his records. From his phone calls. From the way he said my name and “I love you” when it used to be easy.
No. It can’t be.
“You should probably check on that, Gia,” Harriet says.
I nod. “Uh huh.” It takes me a moment to will my feet to turn around and go back into the front hall.
And there he is. Mars Floyd standing in the front hall of my family’s inn, my childhood home, like he’s just walked into the Ritz Carlton in the Arctic. His face is buried in a Burberry scarf, and snowflakes pepper his hair and shoulders.
Mars doesn’t notice me, his head dipped down as he stares at his phone. “No service around here,” he grumbles to himself.
“Mars?”
His head jerks in my direction, brown eyes wide. “ Gia? ”
He looks good, but then again, he always does. His hair is styled in a high and tight fade, no doubt freshly done, and his clothing is tailored to perfection. His deep, dark skin looks smooth to the touch, and I bet he smells amazing, too.
Too bad all of it together adds up to a love I no longer want.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my mouth hot and dry .
Mars is caught between a smile and a grimace. “I have a reservation under Franklin… Franklin Martin, I think it is?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Mars points a finger in the air and gestures to the Christmas decorations. “This is your… this is your family’s inn?”
He never made it out here with me. Scheduling never worked out. Part of why we weren’t meant to be. And yet, none of this feels accidental. “Yes.”
“I had no idea.”
“You booked an inn in Blue Flag, and you didn’t wonder for a second if it might be my family’s place?” I ask with more vinegar than I mean to. He may have never made it to the end, and I can excuse him for forgetting the name of it since he’s his own biggest fan, and there’s no room for anyone else in that brain of his, but to forget the name of my hometown? That’s low.
Mars holds up his hands. “My management booked this place for me, G, I swear.”
I swear . Gosh, why does he have that accent that makes him sound so innocent? He knows how people get trapped in the Britishness, how people swoon over the sound of his voice and take him as earnest and genuine despite the fact that he knows how to charm the living daylights out of anything that moves.
Including me.
We’re interrupted by creaking stairs and Bryn emerging from the second floor with her arms full of flashlights. “I’ve got every flashlight I could find, and I found a crankable radio and—” She goes silent when she sees Mars.
“Hello, Bryn,” he says in an annoyingly chipper cadence .
My friend, for all her professionalism and put-togetherness, can’t manage decorum right now. The situation is too bizarre, the shock too obscene. “Oh no .”
And this time, the universe does me a favor by cutting the power.