Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A chill slid down Rachel’s spine as her brother-in-law pulled the Ford Bronco up out front of the Green Tree Resort late that afternoon. She’d visited the site a number of times, but this time it was different. Tonight she would be sleeping here. In the snowy wilds of Colorado. With ghosts, her ex-lover, and bears. Oh my!
Odd snatches of Wizard of Oz references kept rolling around in her head. She was no longer in Kansas. Or Atlanta. Or even Aspen for that matter.
This is a really stupid idea. Well done, Rach. You’ve backed yourself into a tight corner with this gig.
“I’ll go check the heating and hot water, while you girls go get settled,” said Dan, climbing out of the car. He headed up to the front door and disappeared inside.
“Thanks for doing this, Rach. I know it’s not going to be fun.”
The fear in her sister’s voice snapped Rachel out of her self-pity. If she bailed on this job, it would make things hard for Kellie, especially with her in-laws.
I’m not going to let her down .
“Of course it will be fun. I’ve never camped out before so it will be a whole new experience for me. Maybe I’ll go join the Girl Scouts. Wanna buy some cookies?”
Grabbing the sleeping bag and a large box full of groceries, Rachel climbed out. Kellie followed suit, opening the back of the SUV. As she reached for one of Rachel’s oversized suitcases, she paused. “I mean it when I say thanks. You mightn’t realize it, but this goes a long way to helping me repair my relationship with my in-laws.”
“Oh.” She tried her best to sound like she hadn’t thought of that—and hadn’t seen the look of desperation on Kellie’s face both last night and all today.
I wonder if she will ever forgive herself.
Tucking the box of groceries under her arm, Rachel pulled up the handle of her heaviest case and dragged it over to the bottom step at the entrance to the lodge.
“If Dan can find a way to forgive you, then I think his parents eventually will. That only leaves you. Don’t let your mistake define the rest of your marriage.”
Yeah, and I’m a big fat hypocrite who has no business handing out relationship advice.
Kellie turned her gaze away as Dan made his way back to the Bronco, then returned with another of Rachel’s suitcases. His steps were so heavy with doom that Rachel wished she’d stayed in bed.
“The boiler is working but it’s making some horrible noises.” He reached into his jeans pocket, then handed Rachel a creased business card. “That’s the maintenance man. If the boiler throws a fit, call him. But I must warn you, he’s a busy guy, so it might be some time before he can come out here. Unfortunately, he’s the only one I’ve been able to find in town who can keep the ancient machine going.”
Hopefully I won’t be here too long. Then again …
Rachel studied the card. This could be a handy bargaining chip. If the boiler did die, she could use the promise of being able to get the heating and hot water fixed, to extract some major concessions from Matthew Royal. She put the card in her pocket, then reached for her suitcase. “I’m ready to be shown to my suite.”
The word suite was a rather loose concept to describe her accommodation. A cramped, shabby, and smelly room would have been closer to the truth. Threadbare carpets and the lack of curtains on the windows were a noticeable feature. The odor of damp and decay certainly wasn’t anything she’d ever smelt in a five-star hotel. If she had to give it a name, the scent would have been Eau de gag .
I’d hate to see the budget rooms.
Rachel dropped her suitcase and box of groceries on the cleanest patch of floor, and took a minute to take it all in. “How am I going to sleep a wink in this place?” she whispered.
Her gaze settled on a closed door on the other side of the room. As she made her way toward it, her misgivings about agreeing to this madness quickly rose to panic level. On the other side of that door had to be the bathroom.
Visions of horror movies, along with the obligatory psychotic soundtrack popped into her mind. What evil lay beyond the door? She reached for the handle. Her fingers touched the cold hard metal.
“Hi,” said a male voice, and a hand landed on her shoulder.
“Aaaah!” Rachel squealed. Her years of self-defense classes kicked in and before she could stop herself, she’d turned and landed a hard punch to Matthew’s solar plexus. He staggered back, clutching his hands to his stomach. “Oof! Oh god!”
There were footsteps outside, and Kellie and Dan came racing in. Her brother-in-law took one look at Matthew and dumped the suitcase he’d been hauling. The anger in Dan’s eyes spoke of a man intent on violence as he moved toward Matthew, who was doubled over in pain.
Rachel rushed forward. “Stop. No, it’s my fault. I punched him.”
“Well done,” muttered Kellie.
Matthew wrapped his arms around himself. “I didn’t realize she hadn’t heard me when I came into the room. I startled her.”
There went any chance of her spending some time alone to get her emotions sorted before having to face her nemesis. Less than two minutes in the place and she’d already attacked him.
He was in pain. She should be feeling guilty about having punched him. But she didn’t. Instead, Rachel had to console herself with feeling guilty over not feeling guilty.
“Where did you come from?” asked Kellie. “I didn’t see another car outside.”
Wincing, Matthew slowly righted himself. “I parked around back near the supply entry. After last night I’m not exactly the most popular person in Aspen, so it made sense to keep my Jeep out of sight. I got here an hour ago. I came to investigate the noise in this room.”
“It’s my room, and I’ll thank you to leave it,” said Rachel. She wanted to make it clear that Matthew wasn’t welcome in her personal space. Not anymore. Picking up her sleeping bag, she tossed it onto the bed. Doing her best to ignore the puff of dust which rose into the air, she added, “This suite is out of bounds as far as you are concerned, Mister Royal. Now, get out. ”
“I’m going. I’m going.”
He left the room, still grimacing as he went.
On the drive out to the resort, Rachel had been sorely tempted to tell her sister and brother-in-law about her and Matthew’s prior romantic history. She was relieved she hadn’t. Matthew had surprised her, and his injury had been purely an accident. But if they thought she’d deliberately hurt him, they might have second thoughts about letting her finish the contract. This design project was crucial for her resume. For her new life.
Successfully negotiated with a major resort company to save and restore an historic ski lodge in Colorado, creating a striking but eco sympathetic construction during the transformation.
That was the sort of piece which would shine brightly in her new design portfolio. Those words would help to see her stalled career resurrected. As much as it annoyed her to agree with him, Matthew had been right last night. He wasn’t the only one who needed this project. They both did.
Her sister’s worried expression had Rachel making hurried reassurances. “I’ll talk to him later and smooth things over. In the meantime, he can go lick his wounds. Mister Royal was the one who snuck up on me. A bit of pain will remind him not to do it again.”
He wouldn’t move so quietly about the resort now that Rachel was here. She’d packed one hell of a punch, and he didn’t need to scare her into giving him another one. Back in his suite next door to hers, Matthew attempted to sit down, then decided it might be better to walk around for a bit. His plan to approach Rachel and have a quiet chat with her in the hope of avoiding an all-out war hadn’t quite worked out.
She’d made her position clear. His name was mud. And apart from when she absolutely had to, Rachel had little to no interest in talking to him.
When the pain under his ribs eventually subsided, Matthew cracked open the door of his room, listening before venturing out onto the landing. From where he stood at the top of the stairs leading down to the lobby, he could see into the parking lot out front. The big green Ford Bronco he’d spotted a little while earlier was gone.
We’re alone now.
She could murder him and there wouldn’t be any witnesses. Matthew pushed the ridiculous notion away. Rachel was angry with him, and rightly so. He’d kept the truth of his identity from her.
But it’s not as if I’m some billionaire crime fighter with a secret cave full of weapons. I’m just a hotel developer, so it’s not that big a secret.
He made his way to the nearby kitchen. Coffee and a grilled cheese sandwich always made him feel better. The resort’s kitchen had been stripped of most of its commercial appliances, leaving only the fittings such as sinks and a grill. The walk-in cool room still worked, and he’d stored some fresh fruit and milk inside it. Just because they were staying at the old lodge didn’t mean they had to completely rough it.
Matthew fired up the grill and got to work making a sandwich. He was in the cool room grabbing butter when a familiar voice reached his ears. “That had better not be my Monterey Jack you’ve put in that sandwich.”
He gritted his teeth. She was still in a pissy mood. Picking up the stick of butter, Matthew made his way back into the kitchen, closing the cool room door behind him. He sauntered over to where his sandwich lay on the stainless steel counter top. “I wouldn’t be so crass as to use Monterey Jack in a cheese melt. That’s strictly for nachos. This is imported Gruyere, which costs fifteen dollars an ounce. So, if anyone’s going to be protective of their cheese, it’s me.”
She grumbled something about billionaire extravagance, but Matthew chose to ignore it. Rachel was making herself a cup of coffee using the machine he’d purchased from the same high end grocery store where he’d bought his supplies earlier on. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “And those are my coffee pods.”
She softly swore then went to step away from her half-filled cup. As she did, Matthew lay a hand on Rachel’s arm. Her whole body stiffened. He’d never made a woman so wound up, so angry. “Please, Rachel. Make the coffee. You can use the machine anytime. In fact, feel free to use anything that’s mine in the kitchen. Including the food.”
“And what do you want in return?”
This was a side of her he hadn’t encountered before. Then again, until late yesterday, she’d thought of him as a hotel accountant, not a billionaire developer. And he’d thought she worked in a gift store, not as a commercial architect looking to lock horns with him over this project.
“I want us to call a truce. Staying angry at each other will prevent us from creating a new proposal together, and that’s the only way we’ll make it out of here and get what we both want.”
“What have you got to be angry with me about? You’re the greedy developer, not me,” she huffed.
“Apart from you assaulting me a little while ago, I would say I have plenty to be annoyed about. How about the fact that you lied about why you’re in Aspen. And you took apart my model in the meeting, then encouraged other people to steal more pieces. That was a fifteen-thousand-dollar custom built design model. ”
She broke my toy and didn’t bother to apologize.
Rachel picked up her mug of coffee and carried it over to the nearby sink. She tipped the contents out, then washed the cup. “I didn’t lie to you about why I’m here. I told you it was to make a fresh start, and that’s the honest truth. And anyone who spends that sort of money on an initial design proposal deserves to have it broken up. The locals didn’t steal the bits they took, they left you money. Keep your coffee pods Matthew. The Manhattan Escapee is on Uber eats. I’ll get my coffee from them.”
She marched out of the kitchen, leaving Matthew alone with his sandwich. Not even outrageously expensive Swiss cheese could solve this situation.