Chapter Fourteen Glass and Frost
Dex.
Morning came too quietly. The room where I had stayed the night was all sharp corners and polished surfaces, every line deliberate to accentuate the feeling of class and money.
I sat up and stared through the glass wall at the valley below, white snow broken only by dark trees and the distant curl of smoke from the chalet restaurant.
It was beautiful in the kind of way that photographs well, but feels cold to live in.
The bed was too firm and the air was so filtered I couldn’t smell anything.
Even the sunlight seemed staged, cutting through the double-glazed windows in perfect symmetry.
I missed the uneven light that crept through the old windows at the SnowDrop Inn, the smell of coffee that fought with varnish and cinnamon, the sound of Helen’s voice filling every room before the day had even begun.
Here, impressive and sterile silence reigned.
As I got ready for the day, I saw a text from Braxton informing me that he had already gone downstairs.
He also let me know that Carly wanted to meet with me in the conference room at nine.
The text was delivered in his usual cheerful voice, though I could practically hear the sigh behind it when it came to his sister.
Carly and Braxton had a complicated relationship.
I would never call Carly loving, more like interfering with the best of intentions from her point of view only since Carly wasn’t able to entertain something opposite to what she believed.
As for Braxton, he loved his sister, even if he didn’t always like her actions, and he was far too patient with her.
He was still too patient with most people, I personally believed.
I showered, dressed, and stared at my reflection longer than I meant to.
The man in the mirror looked composed, professional, and entirely disconnected.
No wonder Lucy had joked to her sisters that I was a robot.
I felt like one in the moment, forcing myself to do something I didn’t want to really do.
I caught myself wondering if she had eaten breakfast yet and what project the family had taken on next at the inn since they should be done with the dining room by now.
I forced the thoughts away and left the suite to meet with Carly.
The conference room was all glass and chrome. A fireplace flickered purely for effect, and the walls were covered in renderings of Carly’s proposed expansion. She stood at the head of the table when I arrived, poised and immaculate in winter white. The kind of beauty that draws attention by design.
“Dex,” she said warmly, holding out her hand. “Thank you for coming. I know this was short notice.”
I politely shook her hand for only as long as necessary. I gestured to the concept sketches on the walls. “It looks ambitious.”
She smiled, the kind of smile that suggested both compliment and conquest. “Ambition is how we survive in this business. Everyone wants a mountain experience, but I want the Hale Lodge to redefine it.”
I moved closer to the renderings. The plans were striking. Minimalist lines, reflective glass, with heated stone corridors. It was technically impressive and emotionally empty. “You’re doubling the square footage.”
“Yes. We will add private suites, a spa, an event hall, and a rooftop restaurant. Guests crave luxury. They don't want a rustic atmosphere anymore, they want perfection. We are adapting to the needs of our luxury guests,” Carly informed me.
Perfection. The word sat uncomfortably on my tongue. “And you want my firm to take it on?”
“Not your firm,” she said smoothly, her gaze lingered for a moment too long. “You. Personally. I want your eye, your precision, your reputation. You have always had a gift for elevating spaces.”
I looked back at the plans. “It is an enormous project. Two years at least.”
“Two and a half years minimum since we will need to import our workforce. The local community just can’t manage what we want.
The project will require you to live on site.
We need leadership here, not someone managing remotely.
You understand that,” Carly responded as she came to stand uncomfortably close beside me.
“I do understand,” I said quietly. It was what I used to dream about.
Creative control, financial security, and a project that would make my career.
Yet the thought of living here made my chest tighten.
I imagined months of this perfect stillness, every surface gleaming, every conversation measured.
A mere month ago I would have accepted the position by now. I would have been pleased to be offered such an opportunity. Now I wondered if it would box me in where I didn’t want to be. I wondered if perhaps my priorities had been wrong all along.
Carly clasped her hands. “I can have the contract drawn up by the end of the week. Of course, we will ensure your firm receives credit, but this will be your legacy.”
Legacy. Another word that sounded impressive until you thought about what it meant.
We moved to the terrace for lunch. The air was cold but still and the patio heaters made it bearable to sit out for a time.
Braxton joined us for the first ten minutes, politely discussing materials and load-bearing ratios, before Carly sent him off to get her a coffee from the kitchen.
The moment he left, she poured me wine without asking and leaned back in her chair.
“You haven’t changed. Still thoughtful, still quiet. You are difficult to read, you know." Carly murmured before taking a sip of wine.
“I have been told that,” I said.
She smiled over the rim of her glass. “You and I understand each other. We have the same drive, the same standards. It’s why you have always done so well with my brother.”
“Braxton is easy to work with. He sees the good in everything,” I automatically replied but it was true. Braxton could always find silver linings. He was a far better person than I was.
She waved a hand. “He sees what he wants to see as sentimental people always do. He needs grounding and you often provide that.”
Her voice was smooth, the words flattering on the surface but edged underneath.
I had seen her do this with investors. Carly could build a man up while quietly taking him apart.
She reached across the table, her manicured fingers resting lightly on a linen napkin.
“You and I could do remarkable things together. You know that.”
I kept my voice neutral. “Professionally, perhaps.”
Her eyes flickered with something like amusement. “Professionally to start, but think about it, Dex. We make sense. We have the same background, the same expectations, and the same social circle. We have known each other for years so there are no surprises. Everyone already assumes we are close.”
I gave a small, noncommittal smile and turned back to the preliminary sketches. “You have a clear vision. It will be a success.”
“Then you will take it on?” Carly allowed me to change the subject back to her project, rather than personal relationships.
“I will need to review the details first." I was non-committal. I didn’t want to box myself into something I would want to get out of later.
Yet why should I want to get out? There were nothing but positive attributes to the job. Prestige, money, and probably architectural awards. It was everything I had ever wanted. If I had to put up with Carly, that was the price to be paid.
Yet right now none of it was appealing to me.
“You always were careful,” she said softly. “I like that about you.”
It felt like my tie was suddenly too tight. I set down my coffee mug and excused myself under the pretense of checking on Braxton. She let me go with a knowing smile.
Carly’s voice echoed faintly behind me as she gave instructions to one of her staff.
I listened for a moment, the calm confidence, the polished authority.
Once, that was the world I wanted. I had lived for precision, for respect, for control.
And yet now, standing in all that order, I felt a strange kind of homesickness.
Not for a place, but for noise, for laughter, for imperfection.
Every step echoed as I walked towards where the proposed extension was to take place. I would need to check materials, loads, stress under the snow and ice, redo measurements to ensure the blueprints I created were correct.
My thoughts slipped, uninvited, to Lucy.
She would have hated this place. It was too polished, too quiet, and too controlled.
The guests here were the same. They weren’t here to enjoy themselves or have real fun.
Lucy would have found a way to laugh about it and make Braxton laugh too.
I could see her in the SnowDrop dining room with her sleeves rolled up, cheeks flushed from work, surrounded by chaos and family and warmth.
Nothing matched, nothing was perfect, but everything was real.
I spent the afternoon with Braxton, doing preliminary research and sketches on our laptops, working together like we have many times before.
It wasn’t that we had committed to the project, but it was always good to look at it without any bias, decide how the project would impact our business and if it was worth it in the end.
“It would take us away from our regular business,” I murmured, typing through a particular annoying mathematical formula. “Or we would have to work extra hours.”
“We could hire someone in for the interim to keep the home office going, work remotely, but go in a percentage of the time,” Braxton suggested.
“I don’t like that scenario. Too many things can go wrong if we don’t have at least one of the partners there on a long term basis,” I said. I had seen other firms have issues when they didn’t have strong leadership at the helm.
“We could relocate. A lot of our clients come in to see us now. However, that might be difficult for our employees,” Braxton reasoned.
I stopped working and looked at my friend. “You want to relocate here?”
“Why not? It’s a nice place,” Braxton muttered as his cheeks became decidedly flushed.
I leaned back in my chair. Braxton had a thing for the older sister, Jane. I knew it, just as I knew that I had feelings for Lucy. It was all confusion.
“It is a nice place,” I softly admitted.
Not ready to talk, I tamped down my feelings and threw myself into the work at hand.
Later that afternoon, Carly asked me to meet her again in the lounge. The fire burned steadily, throwing light against the glass.
“I hope you are not overthinking this. It’s a good project, a good alliance,” she said lightly.
I smiled faintly but I really didn’t feel any joy. “It is a good one. However, I still need to verify if it’s something we want to take on.”
“The economy is fickle. There is safety in taking on a large project which is financed by the Hale group,” Carly pointed out as she sat beside me.
“You believe safety and happiness are the same thing?” I questioned.
“They can be. Happiness built on security lasts longer than happiness built on impulse,” Carly decided. She gave me an inviting smile, leaning slightly towards me.
“Maybe. Or maybe impulse is what makes it real,” I mused, turning slightly away from her to reach out for a cup of coffee in an attempt to put some distance between us.
She tilted her head. “You sound like Braxton. Or worse, like one of those Bennet women he talks about with such fondness.”
The name hit me like a hand on the chest. I kept my thoughts to myself but Carly must have read disapproval on my face because she moved closer, her hand on my arm as her expensive perfume engulfed me.
“You don’t belong in chaos, Dex. You belong in a structured environment, with me.
We could build something that would last forever both professionally and personally.
We would be an amazing power couple. Everyone would envy us. ”
A few months ago I probably would have seen the logic of her words. Now, all I could think of was Lucy standing in a half-sanded room, telling me that perfection didn't matter as much as warmth. Carly’s world gleamed while Lucy’s glowed. One reflected light while the other created it.
Suddenly Carly was far too close for comfort. I excused myself, claiming exhaustion.
Carly’s expression flickered just long enough for me to see irritation before she smoothed it away. “Of course. We can talk tomorrow. We have so much to discuss.”
Back in my room, I loosened my collar, flopped down on the sofa and stared at the blank ceiling.
The hum of the heating system was the only sound and it was barely there, the quietest money could buy.
I opened my laptop, meaning to review her contract, but the numbers blurred on the screen.
I closed it and sat back. The image of the SnowDrop Inn filled my mind.
The way the light touched the wood, the faint sound of laughter drifting from the kitchen, and Lucy’s voice teasing me about dust on my shoes.
I realized, with quiet certainty, that I had spent years building beautiful things for other people while my own life stayed hollow. Lucy filled spaces. Carly perfected them. I finally understood the difference.
I thought about calling Lucy, just to hear her voice, to ask if the wainscoting had turned out as planned. But what would I say? That I missed the noise? That the silence here was suddenly suffocating?
Suddenly restless, I got up to stand by the window and watched the snow fall, soft and unhurried.
The lights of the slope flickered below, perfectly aligned rows tracing the mountain’s edge.
I wondered what my sister Georgie would say if she saw me here.
Probably that I looked like a man who had misplaced his melody. She was right too often for my comfort.
I suddenly missed her. I missed Lucy more.
I didn’t know what to do about any of it. I only knew that comfort without connection felt like nothing at all. Maybe chaos was the point. Maybe that was where the living happened.