Chapter 25 Zoe
ZOE
I was in one hell of a mood after my encounter with Landon. It made me more cheerful and upbeat, even as the resort got busier leading up to Christmas.
Two days before Christmas, I went to Mrs. Greer’s office with a notebook full of ideas. And by some kind of early Christmas miracle, I actually got her to listen—at least for two minutes.
Literally two minutes. She checked the thin watch on her wrist and said, “Begin.”
“Since some of the older guests are away from their grandchildren, we could set up a video call station,” I said, speaking as quickly as I could.
“We could organize games. What’s that trivia game that generation likes?
The one where you gather those little wedges?
Or maybe even a dance with music from the forties and fifties for the guests who’d enjoy that. ”
She didn’t even let me go for the full two minutes.
“Stop.” She held up one hand. “These are rich, powerful people. They don’t need a cruise director.”
The words stung. “I just thought—”
“That’s the problem. You think too much and accomplish too little.”
I tried to keep my voice level. “Am I doing anything right here? Because it certainly doesn’t seem like it.”
“No, nothing.” She leaned back in her chair, looking at me over the rim of her glasses. “And I didn’t need you here in the first place.”
I tried to soften my tone. “Okay, of course you didn’t need me. But I’m here now. I’m going to be here for another ten days. Couldn’t we work together?”
“No.”
“Isn’t there anything you like about me?” The words came out smaller than I’d intended. More vulnerable.
She smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile. “One thing.”
For a moment, I had hope.
“I’m really looking forward to filling out your internship report.”
My heart sank. I could just tell she was going to tear me apart in that report. Everything I’d done here—all the work, all the effort—would be for nothing.
I left her office feeling hollowed out.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Even some of the guests noticed something was wrong. Mr. Hartley came up to me at one point, asking about my past, whether a ‘pretty girl’ like me had a boyfriend. I barely paid attention, just gave him one-word answers until he finally left me alone.
By mid-afternoon, I couldn’t take it anymore. I went back to the hideaway, even though it was the middle of the day.
I was walking down the hallway when I almost ran into Asher. Just like that first night when we’d barely known each other and everything had been so awkward and tense.
But this time felt different.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, trying to move past him.
“What are you doing back here?” he asked.
“I just—” My voice broke, and I felt tears threatening. “I needed to get something.”
“I came back for my phone charger,” he said, but his eyes were on my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
I said it roughly because I didn’t want to cry. Not in front of him. There had been too many different emotions these past few days. I couldn’t handle any more.
“You’re upset. Tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“I’ll go get Landon for you,” he said, turning.
“I’m okay,” I said.
But a tear rolled down my face, betraying me.
Then he just stepped forward and took me into his arms.
He held me. Ran his thumb back and forth across my back in slow, soothing strokes. I buried my head against his shoulder and cried. Not loud, ugly sobs—just quiet tears that I couldn’t hold back anymore.
He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t tell me it would be okay. He just held me for a long time, solid and warm and steady.
Finally, I started to step back. He let go immediately, giving me space.
I looked up at him, embarrassed to have shown weakness in front of a man who’d felt like a rival until just recently.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” I said.
I didn’t want this getting back to Kai or Landon. Didn’t want this to cast a shadow over what little time I had left with them.
He looked at me for a moment. Then he said simply, “Tell anyone what?”
Then he walked off down the hallway.
Christmas Day was exhausting.
As predicted, we were all incredibly busy. Asher was making special meals in the restaurant, running himself ragged to make sure every dish was perfect. I was all over the resort, helping guests, making sure everyone had what they needed, trying to ensure they were having a great day.
Even Kai and Landon helped out. There were no ski lessons, but they pitched in wherever they could—delivering presents, flowers, and meals to rooms. Directing guests, stepping in when extra hands were needed.
In passing, we said we’d celebrate together some other time. But Christmas Day itself was just work.
That evening, I collapsed on the couch in the hideaway between Kai and Landon. Usually I sat between Kai and Asher, but I was too tired to move, and they were too tired to suggest switching. I fell asleep almost immediately, my head on Kai’s shoulder.
Later, someone picked me up, carried me back to my bed, and tucked me in. For the first time since I’d been here, I didn’t even know which twin it was. I was that exhausted.
But then I woke up in the middle of the night.
I checked my phone. 3:17 a.m.
Something was bothering me, though I couldn’t say what. I used the bathroom, then found myself pausing by Landon’s door. I pressed my ear against it, worried he might be upset and still awake. But I heard his deep, even breathing.
I paused by Kai’s door next and heard light snoring.
Then I went and stood outside Asher’s room. I didn’t hear anything at all.
Maybe he was just a quiet sleeper. But something was telling me to look inside.
I opened the door carefully. The bed was still made.
He wasn’t there.
I got dressed quickly and walked through the halls of the resort, taking the tunnels that led from the hideaway back to the main lodge. My feet carried me straight toward the restaurant.
The dining room was empty and closed for the night. I skirted around tables in the darkness, heading for the kitchen.
The lights were on in there. And I heard a voice.
His voice.
Who was he talking to? Suddenly I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if he was talking to a woman? Like that beautiful blonde who’d been flirting with Kai?
I told myself it shouldn’t matter. I had no claim to any of them. We were just having fun during the break.
But my heart was beating harder, anyway.
I moved silently toward the kitchen entrance. The roll-down shutter was covering the pass, so I couldn’t inside. Silently, I opened the kitchen door.
Asher was at the stove, cooking. Oh. Okay. I guess he was hungry and making himself a snack? But people usually did that silently.
Then I noticed several strange things all at once.
First, there were lights everywhere. Really bright lights, including an extra, portable one sitting on the counter, pointed directly at him.
Second, he was talking while he was working. Demonstrating. “You want to let the vegetables sweat for about five minutes,” he was saying. “Not too high heat—you’re looking for translucent, not brown.”
Third—and this was the really strange thing—his shirt was off.
I froze, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Why was he talking to himself? Then I saw the phone propped up on the counter, camera facing him.
He was recording.
Was he making a private video for a girlfriend? But he was speaking loudly and clearly, like he was actually teaching people how to cook. Like a tutorial.
But why did he have his shirt off? Not that he didn’t look hot as hell that way, but none of this made sense.
I pulled out my own phone, staying out of his view. I typed into the search bar: cooking lesson young man no shirt.
A lot of results appeared on the screen. Then I saw it—a cooking channel called “The Shirtless Chef.”
My heart stopped.
Hesitantly, I clicked on it. The profile picture was definitely Asher, bare-chested with a cocky smile, holding a whisk. The subscriber count made my eyes widen. Nearly a million followers.
I scrolled through the videos. There were dozens of them. In the thumbnails, he was always shirtless, always cooking something different. I opened one but didn’t turn on the sound, just scrolled through the comments.
“OMG he’s so hawt!!!”
“Who cares about the recipe, I’m here for the view!”
“I’d let him cook for me ANY DAY!”
“I wish he’d be a pantsless chef too!!”
A few people commented on the actual recipe or asked questions about technique. But most of the commenters were thirsting after him.
My stomach twisted. All these women fawning over him. Saying explicit things about what they’d like to do with him—or what they’d like him to do to them. And I’d had no idea.
I kept scrolling, trying to process this, when I realized it had gone quiet, and I looked up.
Asher was standing five feet away, watching me. He’d stopped recording, and there was something a little sad in his expression. “I guess I don’t have to worry about Kai revealing my secret anymore.”
I stared at him, trying to gather my racing thoughts. “Why? Why do you make these videos?” I couldn’t think of any reason that made sense. Well, except for one.
I didn’t think he was going to answer me, but after a long pause, he said, “It’s a long story.”
“Can you tell me?”
He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Some of it.” He led me out to the dining room. We chose a round table and sat down, leaving one chair between us so we could see each other better.
I couldn’t think of where to begin. “How long have you been doing this?” I finally asked.
“A couple of years.”
“Your followers…” I gestured at my phone, still open to the comment section. All those women. All those compliments. All those adoring women who sounded like they wanted to climb through the screen and throw themselves at him.
“It’ll probably cross over a million next month.”
“They’re, um, pretty vocal about singing your praises. The women, anyway.”
He shrugged. “Goes with the territory of being an online influencer.”
“I just don’t understand why you do it.”