Chapter 10 Zoe
ZOE
I had to be up by eight the next morning. They didn’t.
I stared at the ceiling of my room, listening to the muffled sounds of laughter and conversation filtering through the wall. It had to be well past midnight.
In the morning, I’d be an absolute zombie if this continued.
I rolled over, punched my pillow into a different shape, and tried to will myself to fall asleep. But every time I started to drift off, another burst of loud, masculine laughter would jolt me awake.
Finally, I gave up and padded down the hall to the bathroom. On the way back, I couldn’t help peering into the common area.
All three of them were there. Kai and Asher sat on the sofa, leaning back with beers in hand, grinning at something one of them had said. Landon was in the armchair set slightly apart, holding his own drink but looking like he was listening more than participating.
They looked comfortable. Relaxed. Like they belonged here, unlike me. I slipped back into my room before any of them noticed me.
Great. I was sleepy, annoyed, and frustrated.
And half tempted to go out there and give them a piece of my mind.
But I didn’t, since we all had to coexist here.
At least that’s what I told myself. But there was a small voice in the back of my mind that worried I might grab a beer, kick my feet up and join them.
It would be nice to hang out by the fire and pretend I didn’t have any responsibilities.
Except that was the kind of thing I never let myself do.
I also needed to distance myself from these men before I did something incredibly unprofessional, like murder one of them. Or even worse, kiss one of them again.
The next morning, as predicted, I was a disaster.
Since Mrs. Greer didn’t have any tasks for me—again—I helped out at the front desk where I mistyped a reservation and sending a couple to the wrong suite.
I forgot how to log a guest complaint. And when Mr. Hartley—Bob, as he insisted I call him—stopped by the desk to ask about dinner reservations, I blanked on the restaurant’s hours for a full five seconds while he stared at me expectantly.
Dennis covered for me, but I could feel his concerned look even after the older man walked away.
When Vivian appeared near the desk, I saw my chance.
“Can I ask you something?” I said quietly, stepping aside so the other staff wouldn’t overhear.
“Of course.” Vivian’s expression was warm but professional, the perfect concierge face.
“Is there... another place I could stay? Just while I’m here?”
Her brow furrowed slightly. “Is something wrong with the visiting staff quarters? We sometimes house large families there, or even bridal parties. If there’s a problem, I need to know about it.”
“No, nothing like that. I’m just—I’m a morning person, and the other staff in my quarters are night owls. I can’t sleep with the noise.” I forced a smile. “I don’t want to be difficult. I just thought I’d ask.”
She looked genuinely sympathetic. “I wish I could help, but the resort is fully booked for the holiday season. Even the rooms that haven’t been occupied yet are reserved.” She paused. “I could send over some earplugs? Or a white noise machine?”
“No, that’s okay. Thank you, though.”
She squeezed my arm gently. “Hang in there. The holiday rush will be over before you know it.”
That was the last thing I wanted. This internship was the most important part of my senior year. But it would be rather helpful to actually be awake for it. Feeling defeated, I thanked her again and got back to work.
The next day, Mrs. Greer summoned me to her office.
I’d had another night of poor sleep, and more masculine laughter echoing through the halls meant more lying awake resenting the fact that I couldn’t be as carefree as they appeared to be. By the time I dragged myself out of bed, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.
“Sit,” Mrs. Greer said without preamble.
I did.
She didn’t look up from the paper she was writing on. “Your hours are changing. Effective today, you’ll be working noon to ten p.m.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Noon to ten,” she repeated, her tone clipped. “If you’re such a delicate sleeper that you can’t handle normal staff housing, you can work a later shift like our other night staff. Perhaps that will be more accommodating to your needs.”
My stomach sank. “Mrs. Greer, I didn’t ask for—”
“That will be all.” She said it so stiffly that it was like she felt I’d asked for her job. Not that I didn’t think I could do it, but still. I stood on shaky legs and left her office, my face burning.
She thought I’d demanded special treatment. That I’d complained about the guys and expected the resort to bend over backward to accommodate me.
Vivian must have mentioned it to her, which was kind of the concierge, but now my boss had one more reason to resent me.
Perfect.
That night, I joined the staff for a late dinner.
The restaurant was quieter at this hour, with only a few lingering guests finishing their meals. The staff table was set up near the back, and I slid into a seat next to Pam, who greeted me with a warm smile.
“Welcome to the evening shift,” she said. “You’ll get used to it.”
I wasn’t so sure. My mind had always been sharper in the morning—at least when I got enough sleep. But when the food arrived, I forgot to be grumpy.
The plate in front of me held seared duck breast with what I thought was a cherry gastrique, roasted root vegetables that had been caramelized to perfection, and delicate fondant potatoes that looked almost too perfect to eat.
“Wow,” I said, staring down at it.
Pam grinned. “Asher’s been experimenting with the staff meals. Guests get the traditional menu, but we get to be his very willing guinea pigs.”
I took a bite. The duck was perfectly cooked—crispy skin, tender meat, the cherry sauce adding just the right amount of sweetness to cut through the richness.
It was brilliant. Unfairly brilliant. “This is incredible,” I admitted.
Dennis nodded from across the table. “The kid’s got talent, I’ll give him that.”
I glanced toward the kitchen, where I could just see Asher beyond the pass, moving between stations, his white coat streaked with stains, his expression focused.
“Shame he’s so...” I trailed off, searching for the right word.
“Handsome?” Pam offered.
“I was going to say intense,” I said hastily, my cheeks reddening. Actually, I’d been tempted to call him something much worse than that before my professionalism kicked in.
Pam laughed. “Let’s split the difference and call him intensely handsome.”
I nodded, wanting the conversation to end. So I let myself enjoy the flavors without thinking about how someone so talented could also be such a jerk. Without thinking about Asher at all.
Mostly.
After dinner, I wandered toward the bar, not quite ready to go back to the hideaway. It was on the far side of the restaurant and had been empty when I came in. But now there were a few men in the barstools and behind the bar—I stopped short in surprise.
Why were there two ski instructors tending bar?
The one that I assumed was Kai was in the middle of shaking a cocktail, his movements showy and precise, while an older gentleman in a suit watched with amusement. Landon stood at the other end, pouring a neat whiskey for another guest, his demeanor calm and efficient.
I approached slowly. “What are you doing here?”
Kai looked up and flashed me a grin. “Bartending. What’s it look like?”
“You work here?”
“Not officially.” He set down the shaker and poured the drink into a glass, sliding it across to the guest. “We just do this for fun. Not much else to do in the evenings.”
Landon was still at the far end of the bar, but when he saw me, he gave a small wave.
“Want something?” Kai asked. His grin made it impossible to be mad at him. Sure, I was still irritated about what had happened in the gym, but I had bigger problems. Like the fact that both the head chef and my manager hated me. Which didn’t exactly bode well for a problem-free internship.
I hesitated, then slid onto one of the barstools. “Sure.”
Kai’s grin widened. “Let me make you something special. The Zoe Special.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Only if you want it to be.” He was already pulling out bottles, moving with the same easy confidence he had on the slopes. “Trust me.”
A retort sprang to my lips, but then I held it back. Trusting him, at least during the ski lesson, hadn’t led to any harm, or falling off a cliff, like I’d originally feared.
A few minutes later, he set a glass in front of me. It was layered—pale pink at the bottom, fading to white at the top, with a sprig of mint and a twist of lemon on the rim.
“It’s a mocktail,” he said. “You seem like the mocktail type. Grapefruit, ginger, a little honey. Nothing too sweet.”
I took a sip. It was bright and refreshing, with just enough bite to keep it interesting.
“Not bad,” I admitted.
“Not bad?” He put a hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling. “You get enough compliments on your skiing, I’m sure. Do you really need some about your bartending?”
“Yes.” He said it solemnly, and for a moment, he looked like Landon. “And also about my good looks.” I almost snorted. He was back to acting like himself again.
On the other end of the bar, Landon was watching us with quiet amusement.
Before I could say anything else, a small, older man walked up, an exquisitely carved cane in his hand. He couldn’t have been more than an inch or two taller than me, with silver hair and a weathered face that lit up when he saw the twins.
“There they are!” he said, his voice warm and booming despite his size. “My favorite troublemakers.”
Kai straightened, his grin shifting into something more genuine. “Edward, my man. Good to see you.”
The elderly man reached a hand out, and Kai shook it. Then Edward nodded at Landon who’d wandered over. “Hey Landon. Still keeping your brother out of trouble?”
“Trying,” Landon said with a slight smile.
Edward’s gaze shifted to me, curious. “And who’s this?”
“This is Zoe,” Kai said. “She’s doing an internship here. Hospitality management.” My jaw dropped as I realized this man must be Edward Pierce, owner of The Fraser.
I stood and extended my hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Pierce.”
He waved me off, though he shook my hand warmly. “Call me Edward. And the honor’s all mine. Anyone who can put up with these two deserves a medal.”
I’d done my research on Edward Pierce. At one point, he’d owned three of the top ten resorts in the nation. But The Fraser was his favorite—the only one he still owned. He’d built an empire, and even though he’d scaled back, his reputation was legendary.
He settled onto a barstool and launched into a story about Kai’s last championship win, his eyes gleaming with pride.
It was clear he adored the twins, especially Kai.
He asked about what they’d been up to in the last year, focusing more on Kai’s apparently wild personal life than his time on the slopes.
I watched, fascinated. Edward Pierce wasn’t just a fan. He almost seemed to be living vicariously through them, soaking up their youth and recklessness like it could rub off on him.
After a while, and heaps of praise, most of it directed toward Kai, Edward excused himself, saying he had an early morning. The bar felt quieter without him.
Then Mr. Hartley appeared.
He didn’t have his wife with him this time. He was alone, slightly unsteady on his feet, his face flushed.
“There’s my favorite girl,” he said, sliding onto the stool next to mine.
I forced a smile. “Mr. Hartley. Can I help you with something?”
“Call me Bob.” He swung an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. “You’ve been so helpful. So sweet.”
I could smell the whiskey on his breath. “I’m glad I could help. If you need anything—”
“You know what I need?” He leaned in, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “A pretty girl like you to keep an old man company.”
I carefully extracted myself, stepping back with a practiced smile. “I’m sure your wife would love to join you. She seemed lovely when I met her.”
“Susan’s asleep.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ll buy you a drink.”
“I really should get back to work.” I glanced over to Landon, half hoping he’d see what was happening and distract Mr. Hartley, but he was talking quietly with a customer at the end of the bar.
Bob caught my wrist. “Just one drink, darling. What’s the harm?”
I gently but firmly pulled my hand away. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t. Enjoy your evening, Mr. Hartley.”
I stood, ready to walk away, but hesitated when the drunken man got off his stool as well, nearly falling on his ass. And while that would’ve been entertaining and well-deserved, I couldn’t let it happen.
But he recovered his balance without my help and staggered off. I watched him leave, then sat down again, feeling the need to finish the pink and weirdly delicious drink Kai had made me.
Kai watched me while I took a sip. “Why do you put up with that?”
“It’s actually good,” I said.
He rolled his eyes. “No, that old dude. He was all over you. Why didn’t you tell him to back off?”
“Because it’s part of the job.” It wasn’t a part I liked, but that didn’t make it any less true.
“That’s bullshit.”
“It’s hospitality,” I said evenly. “I can’t make a scene every time a guest gets a little too friendly. It doesn’t help anyone.”
Kai’s jaw tightened. “It happens often?”
I shrugged. It wasn’t like I’d kept track, but yeah, it wasn’t exactly rare for women my age in this industry.
“Making a scene would’ve made it worse.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You want to talk about inappropriate? How about the way Edward Pierce was hanging on your every word? Is he the president of your fan club or something?”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because it’s useful.” He shrugged. “We were able to get him to talk to your boss about changing your schedule.”
I froze. “What?”
“Your hours. We asked Edward to talk to Greer about moving you to the night shift. So you could sleep.”
My hands clenched into fists. “You did what?”
“We were trying to help.”
“We?” My voice rose. “Even Landon?”
“Yeah, me and Landon. We thought—”
“You got me in trouble,” I stared at him, anger boiling over. “Mrs. Greer already hates me, and now she thinks I’m some entitled brat who can’t handle normal disputes.”
Kai looked genuinely confused. “We were trying to help. One of the porters overheard you talking to the concierge.”
“You made it worse.” It likely wasn’t what they’d intended, but it was the truth.
I turned to leave, passing Landon in the process. He gave me a smile, apparently not having heard my exchange with Kai. “Headed back to the room?”
I looked at him—kind, thoughtful Landon, who I’d thought was different from the others.
“Stick to skiing and bartending,” I said without stopping. “Not scheduling.”
He blinked, startled.
I didn’t wait for a response. I just kept walking.