Chapter 4
Chapter Four
The Kasper Ridge Special Package
GHOST
T he woman sitting across from me smiled, and the very air between us seemed to warm with the intensity of it. There was no good reason I should feel suddenly like baring my heart—or any part of my past—to a stranger, but that didn’t change things. I wanted to talk. And it had been years since anyone had made me feel like doing much beyond surviving one day and then the next.
So I talked. She was a stranger, and I’d probably never see her again after this week, anyway. Plus, if she wanted to write a travel story about the resort, I figured it couldn’t hurt.
“Uncle Marvin had always been kind of an odd cat.”
“Odd how?” she asked, tilting her head a way that made her look studious and sent a little fizz of attraction through me. She was so pretty.
“Odd like...he wasn’t really into material things. Like, at all.” I paused, remembering my great uncle, and the way he’d brush off any questions about money or expense. “You’d think a guy running what was supposed to be a luxury resort would spend some time and money keeping the place up, right?”
“Probably, yeah.”
“But he always said Kasper Ridge was all about the experience, that just being here should be enough for people.” I thought back to all the recent renovation, wondering what Uncle Marvin might have thought about them. Would he think the place hadn’t been enough for me?
Emily shook her head lightly, smiling. “I mean, I guess it’s one thing to be in a gorgeous place, but guests still expected running water and a good meal, right?”
“At the very least. Don’t you look for a little more than that when you travel? Or have you been roughing it when you travel for work?” I wondered about the far-flung places her job must take her and a pang of envy pinged inside me. I was ready to travel too, to see what else the world had to offer.
Her mouth twisted for a second, and then she said, “Getting to travel at all is nice. I’m not picky.”
“So Uncle Marvin kept the place running when we were little kids, but by the time we were in high school, he’d closed it up, and he was just living up here.”
“A pretty big place for one guy.”
“Yeah, it was. I think it made him a little nuts maybe, being up here all alone.”
“He wasn’t married?”
“He was, actually. And I think when my aunt died, that’s when he gave up a little bit. They had one of those love stories...” I didn’t know how to describe the relationship I’d only heard about with my aunt and uncle. Aunt Lola died before Aubrey and I ever came up to Kasper Ridge, but I’d been old enough to understand from the way Uncle Marvin talked that whatever was between them wasn’t your run-of-the-mill marriage. I’d never witnessed it, but from the stories he told, the shine in his eyes when he talked about her, their love was the stuff of movies with big sweeping soundtracks.
“Tell me,” Emily suggested, her voice a breath.
I met her eyes for a second, surprised to see the interest burning there in her dark gaze. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a conversation I’d wanted so desperately not to end. Was it strange to be enjoying my elevator’s failure during the biggest event the resort had held thus far?
“They were like a movie,” I explained, remembering the way he’d talk about them dancing in the big lobby or spending long hours laughing with their heads together at the bar. “They never lived out in town, but kept rooms up here in this wing. I guess it’s why this was where I decided to live when I got here. It was a little like home, I guess.”
Emily nodded, urging me on.
“When I was little once, my sister and I were staying with Uncle Marvin here. We woke up early, and he was gone. This was when the hotel was still running, so it wasn’t scary—we knew there were other people here.
“So we went downstairs, and saw that it had started snowing overnight. The first snow of the year, which was something Uncle Marvin said my aunt had always loved. Aubrey told me that there was a spot out behind the hotel where Uncle Marvin said Aunt Lola liked to watch the snow fall best—this big clearing where there’s a gap to one side that lets you see past the trees out toward the mountains.”
Emily leaned a bit, a little smile playing on her soft mouth. “Did you go out there?”
“Yeah. We got our snow stuff on and went looking for him. My sister was right, he was there. He was stuffed into a sleeping bag under a little makeshift tarp stretched between a couple trees.”
“He slept in the snow?” Emily’s eyes widened.
I dropped my eyes shut, remembering the laughter and the smiles he gave us when we showed up in the clearing. “Yeah. And when we got there, he pulled us close, and we all watched the way the sun fell over the snowy mountains as it rose. He said he felt closest to our aunt out there.” I could still see the yellow strokes of sunlight painting the distant peaks all covered in snow, my uncle’s arms around us as we snuggled together. “He missed her so much.”
“I’m so sorry,” Emily said, sounding sad. “They sound amazing.”
“They were.” I swallowed down the memory, getting myself back to the original point of the story. “But when Uncle Marvin died, he didn’t just leave us a dilapidated resort. He left this crazy treasure hunt.”
Emily said nothing, but her eyes were wide and encouraging.
“A poem and a map and everything.”
“Like Forrest Fenn.”
“Who?”
“An eclectic antiques dealer who hid a treasure chest and then published a poem in the newspaper for anyone to figure out.”
“You’re kidding.” I stared at her, taking in the glowing cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes. Was that where Uncle Marvin had gotten the idea?
“No, it was a real thing. People actually died looking for his treasure.”
“Thank god no one died looking for Uncle Marvin’s.”
“So you found it?” Emily looked disappointed as she asked this question.
I shrugged. “I really don’t know.”
“You don’t know? How do you not know if you found treasure?” She was leaning forward, those dark onyx eyes sparkling.
“It’s just turned into this crazy convoluted thing. We found an actual treasure chest behind a hidden door,” I explained, part of me feeding on Emily’s obvious enthusiasm for our treasure hunt.
“So that was it!”
“No, I don’t think it was.”
She crossed her arms. “It was a literal treasure chest. Why don’t you think that was the treasure?”
“Because there was another clue inside.”
Her eyebrows climbed in question. “What was it?”
“A pile of scripts.”
She slumped again. “What?”
I told her about my great uncle and Rudy Fusterburg, explaining that the best we could figure out was that Uncle Marvin wanted us to sue Rudy for his royalties.
“You think the treasure is revenge?” Emily tilted her head to one side, her dark hair falling across her jaw before she pushed it back with one hand.
I shrugged, the weight of the question draining me. I’d been struggling with that same question for the better part of a year now, doing nothing about answering it. Things had gotten busy enough at the resort to make the whole treasure hunt less of a priority. Still, it was the one thing I wanted answered definitively before I left.
“I actually think the whole thing might have just been a wild goose chase intended to keep me busy.” I knew Aubrey had thought about this, and imagined most of the crew might have had the same idea. I felt ashamed suddenly that everyone in my life was so worried about my mental state that my uncle had possibly invented a treasure hunt to keep me busy and I’d dragged all my friends into it.
Emily’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What? Why would he have done that?”
And there it was. Everything in my life eventually came back to the one moment that defined me, that contained everything I was, everything I’d ever be. But for the time I’d been in this elevator, I hadn’t thought about the crash even once until now. And I didn’t want to bring that burden into this space and let it cast its appalling shadow over whatever image this woman might have of me.
I was about to answer, to offer some shade of truth that didn’t require diminishing myself in her eyes, when the elevator groaned and jolted suddenly. I braced myself, a spike of adrenaline bolting through me.
A high-pitched shriek left Emily and a second later she was practically in my lap, her body thrown against mine and her head pressed against my chest.
My arm went around her back instinctively. “Shh, it’s okay.”
She huddled against me a moment longer and I did my best not to notice how warm and soft she felt there, how her hair was scented of orange blossom or some other summery thing, or how this was the first time in years I’d held anyone close to me for more than a brief hug with my sister. I froze in place, both wishing for the moment to end and praying it might last forever.
The elevator was still again, and after a moment Emily gathered herself, sitting up a bit straighter, but not moving away.
“Sorry,” she whispered, pulling her head back to gaze up into my eyes. “Uh, didn’t expect that, I guess.”
The smile came easily as I looked down at her, and the spell released its hold. “It’s okay.”
She held my gaze a second longer, something tense in the air between us. Then she moved back a bit, untangling herself from my side. “Wow. I threw myself literally at you.” A light chuckle left her but died on her lips as she met my eyes again.
“I didn’t mind,” I told her honestly, our gazes locked. Tension vibrated in that shared look and the air around us felt charged, thick.
She stared into my eyes, and I had the distinct impression she was trying to understand something about me, figure something out. There was a question in her dark gaze, swirling with whatever heady connection had been there since we met.
I held still beneath her inspection for what felt like hours but was probably less than a minute.
“You’re a nice guy,” she said, and it sounded like she was surprised.
I wasn’t sure she was right, but it was nice to hear. “There are people who’d argue with you about that,” I told her. “But I try to be.”
She nodded, and I swept about inside myself for any shards of scattered courage I might assemble to close the inches between us, to get closer to the beautiful woman in front of me. The air between us hung suspended and Emily didn’t move, except to lean toward me just the tiniest bit. Should I kiss her? Could I? It had been a long time, but everything in my body was screaming that it was right, that she would respond.
I leaned in, barely breathing, when a horrific noise screamed out just above us, and my resolve crumbled, the tension between us snapping as we both jumped and then looked up.
“Ghost?” Fake Tom’s familiar voice came as the elevator doors groaned open a crack. It didn’t make sense, but I’d never been less pleased to be rescued from danger.
“Yeah, in here.”
Emily scooted back, staring up at the space between the elevator doors.
“Maintenance wants you out before they do anything. We’re gonna get these doors open and then drop a ladder down. You’re just below the floor.” I stood, working to shake off the tension of the last several moments. It was for the best, or that was what I was trying to tell myself.
The doors wrenched open a bit more, revealing part of the elevator shaft and the floor of the hallway about three quarters of the way up.
“I’m in here with a guest,” I told him. “I’d rather she didn’t have to crawl out up there.” The space between the floor of the hallway and the top of the elevator doors was only about two feet. I tried not to imagine the elevator slipping as one of us crawled through that opening. A glance at Emily’s face confirmed she had the same fear.
“Sounds like the option is to spend the night in there,” he said. “Ladder coming.” A ladder extended down into the space, and I took it, trying not to give in to the part of me that wished the doors had stayed shut just a little while longer.
I positioned the ladder against the shaft and looked at where Emily was still huddled against the wall, staring up at the opening. I wanted to lean down, take her in my arms, offer comfort. Hell, I wanted to tell her I’d take care of her, that if she’d let me, I’d do it forever. But a reaction like that was so far out of proportion to the situation, to the little time I’d spent with her, it didn’t make sense, even to me.
“It’ll be okay, Emily,” I said instead, reaching a hand to her. “Clearly, your room will be comped,” I told her, trying for some levity because she looked utterly terrified.
“You don’t have to,” she said, standing slowly and gripping my hand tightly. She stepped close to my side, still holding my hand.
“I actually think I do,” I told her. She met my eyes again for a moment and her face cleared into a soft smile as she squeezed my hand and then let it go.
“Thanks.” She peered up at Fake Tom, who was leaning into the opening, looking at us.
“Hi there,” he said. “I’m Will Cruz. We’re gonna get you out of there, okay? If Ghost wants to sleep in the elevator, that’s one thing...”
“I do have to pee,” Emily said, and then let out a nervous laugh. I took her laughter as a good sign that this experience hadn’t traumatized her too much.
“I’ve got the ladder,” I told her, taking hold of the sides as she climbed on.
“The elevator’s not going to drop more, right?” She voiced the very thing I’d been worried about.
“The mechanic’s up at the top,” Fake Tom said. “He’s got it locked up there so it can’t move. You’re safe.”
Emily nodded and I watched her back rise as she took a deep breath. And then she climbed, and I held the ladder as her body moved up within the circle of my arms, taking her softness and her summery scent with her. And then, I was alone.
“You coming, Ghost?” Fake Tom called down.
“Yep.” I climbed the ladder and then pulled it out after me, brushing myself off as I stood in the hallway with Fake Tom and Emily. Suddenly, the world felt different. Colder. There was more space between us now, and I realized with an ache that the intimacy between us in the elevator had likely been circumstantial, nothing more. It didn’t douse my attraction, but that didn’t mean it was mutual.
“Emily, this is Will. He runs operations here.” I turned to Will. “This is Emily. She’s here for the conference.”
“We’re so sorry about all this,” he said.
I nodded. “Really. Room’s on me. And if you want to find me later, I’ll happily buy you a drink or two downstairs. Honestly, whatever you need.”
“Worried I’m going to write something awful about Kasper Ridge?” she asked.
That wasn’t my motivation in suggesting a drink. But did I want to admit it? Especially with Fake Tom right here? I swallowed hard. “More worried we won’t get to finish our conversation,” I said, feeling Fake Tom’s gaze train on the side of my face.
Emily’s dark eyes widened slightly and then her face relaxed into a smile. “I’m sure I’ll need a drink after a full day of workshops and panels tomorrow,” she said, and there was an optimistic lift at the end of her statement. An invitation.
Fake Tom stepped back a bit, giving us a modicum of privacy, but I knew there would be questions later.
“Maybe I’ll see you in the bar then?”
“We’re supposed to wrap up around five,” she said.
“Great, yeah, five,” I said, suddenly unsure how to behave or where to put my hands. Was I making a date? It felt like it.
“See you then. This was...” Emily pulled her lower lip between her teeth for a brief second, capturing my full attention. “Fun,” she finished.
“Good night,” I managed, watching as she turned and walked away. She walked with a little bounce and sway that captured my full attention, her dark hair swishing around her shoulders and creating an overwhelming desire to follow her, to see her safely to wherever she might need to go.
When she was out of earshot, Fake Tom whistled low. “That’s a pretty complex way to convince someone to go out with you. The old ‘save her from the elevator’ ploy.”
“Funny.”
“Oldest trick in the book.”
“Is Mickey fixing this or what?” Mickey was the maintenance guy we’d had on call since we’d opened officially. It seemed like seventy five percent of his job involved fixing elevators.
“His guy is on it. I just need to let him know you’re out.”
“Okay. I’m headed to bed.” A glance at my wrist confirmed that it was after midnight. Hopefully the demand for elevators would be waning at this hour. “What are you still doing here?” Will had a wife and kid at home.
“Got a call about the boss stuck in an elevator,” he said, grinning.
“Thanks.” It was reassuring to know that no matter what else had changed at Kasper Ridge, the little family I’d assembled around myself was always here, ready to help each other. Ready to help me.
“I’ll make sure this is working in the morning,” Fake Tom said. “And Ghost?”
“Yeah?”
“She seemed like a nice girl.”
I let myself smile, remembering Emily’s warm gaze on mine. “Yeah.”
He nodded, and I turned, heading to my room—the rooms Uncle Marvin used to live in. As I got ready for bed I wondered if there was a chance I’d actually get some sleep for once. I felt warmer, more grounded, than usual.
I closed my eyes to thoughts of Emily.