Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Two days later.
The weather had finally begun to warm, and the snow was melting. To Matthew’s relief, he and Rachel had managed to dig the SUV out earlier this morning. They’d been spared the worst of the snowstorm, and the power had stayed on, but neither was prepared to take further risks. Matthew brought the Jeep around and parked it in the front parking lot. They found an old tarpaulin in the basement and covered the SUV as best as they could.
They’d also made a shopping list. Rachel’s sister was going to fill it and drop their supplies off sometime this morning. For some strange reason he’d been asked to make himself scarce when Kellie arrived. Rachel had said something about the Brocks trying to maintain an impartial distance, but Matthew had his doubts. As long as they had plenty of food and their favorite wine, he was content to stay out of the way.
His plans for the morning included putting what was left of his model back together before he and Rachel started the serious business of haggling over what changes needed to be made. The scans of the roof had revealed several major cracks across the center and dozens of smaller ones which spread out to the edges. After reviewing the 3D scans, they’d agreed that the roof was now permanently off limits. If the lodge was to be saved, it would come with the cost of a whole new roof.
During the snowed-in day, they’d scouted around the second floor of the lodge and broken into the old ballroom. It wasn’t really much of a ballroom, but he could imagine that in days gone past it would have held a respectable number of guests for pre-dinner drinks.
They had a few more weeks before they would need to deliver something to the Brocks and the city council for review. The job itself wasn’t all that huge, but Matthew was more than content to drag his feet.
I want Rachel and I to sort things out before we leave. I’m not giving up on us.
After they’d pushed some tables together to form a platform for the reconstruction of the ‘Death Star’, Matthew gave Rachel her marching orders. “I’ll handle things from here.”
“But I can help bring in the boxes.”
“I think you’ve already helped enough with the model, there’s not much of it left,” replied Matthew, adding air quotes for effect. Rachel pouted over not being allowed to carry the boxes, but there was no heat in her protest.
“Okay, so while you get it unpacked, I’ll go downstairs and wait for Kellie. She called a few minutes ago and said she was just leaving the grocery store. She’ll be here shortly.”
“Did you ask her if she got our wine?” he asked, not bothering to hide the pleading in his voice.
“Yes, she did. Six bottles. I think that should see us through the next week or so.”
Matthew winced. “Six bottles. That’s just downright cruel. I can tell you don’t have a drop of Italian or French blood in you.”
She moved closer and when she reached him, leaned in, and brushed an unexpected, but welcome kiss on his cheek. “Just teasing. Kellie got us the dozen bottles of wine like you asked, along with some more espresso coffee pods. But just remember, we are meant to be working to get out of this place, not putting down roots.”
Rachel waved him farewell, then to his delight she tap danced her way out of the ballroom. Matthew grinned like a loon, at her spontaneous antics. He’d never met a woman like Rachel before. She was one in a million.
The echo of his cell buzzing with an incoming call filled the room, and he turned from staring at the door, and picked it up. The name “Jordan” appeared on the screen. Matthew hit receive.
“Have you checked your emails?”
Strange way to start a conversation.
“No, Jordan I haven’t checked my emails. I’ve been a bit busy trying to survive living in an abandoned ski lodge. We’ve had a broken boiler and a snowstorm. How are you?”
The moment of silence on the other end of the line seemed to do the trick.
“Um, yeah sorry.” Jordan sighed. “I’m good. How are things going?”
They’d spent years as sibling rivals and at times their relationship had been fraught with tension. The habit of picking up the phone and starting a conversation without any effort at pleasantries was something they were both still trying to change.
“Well no one has died … yet. We haven’t made much headway on the plans, but we are talking. Now, what was in the email you sent me?”
His laptop was in the other room, and he wasn’t going to rush back just to open it. Not only was it more fun to tease his brother and make him explain what was in the email, but it was also the best way for him to get Jordan to talk. Jordan’s breakdown had been almost two years ago, but Matthew was at pains to make sure he was still okay. Still keeping on top of his mental health.
“It’s a top‐secret save‐the‐date email. Two weeks from Sunday at the Royal family island. And I want you to be my best man.”
Jordan and Chloe were getting married.
Two weeks? That soon!
“Best man? Wow. I don’t know what to say. Well, yes, of course.” He wiped at his eyes, grateful that no one else could see him get all teary and emotional. “Oh, man. I’m so happy for you. She’s a wonderful girl.”
“Thanks. When you get a chance to read the email let me know. It’s not going to be the usual wedding. No bachelor or bachelorette parties. Chloe and I want to keep it a watertight secret until after it’s all over. It’s the only way we are going to keep the paparazzi and snap‐happy fans away on the day.”
Which explains the super short notice.
He could understand why Jordan and Chloe had chosen the Royal private island in the Caribbean for their nuptials. There were few places on earth where the most famous popstar on the planet could get married and still be able to have just selected guests in attendance.
Rachel appeared in the doorway of the ballroom. She held a bottle of wine in either hand, lifting them up in a victory salute. Matthew gave her a wave in return. “I’ll check my diary and make sure it’s clear that week. I’ve got to go, but I will see you in two weeks. Oh my god, two weeks.”
“We’ve been secretly planning this for some time, and we’ve started feeding lies online about a July wedding in LA,” replied Jordan in a calm voice. “I spoke to Bryce this morning, and he’s already got in touch with your tailor to order new suits. Oh, and before you go, Matthew, dear boy. You’ll score serious points with Mom and Dad if you bring a date.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll see if I can rustle up a partner. Let me read the email and come back to you re arrangements.”
He ended the call.
A wedding date. The challenge was set. He had less than two weeks to convince Rachel to fly to the Caribbean with him as his date for Jordan and Chloe’s wedding. Between now and then, he had to not only convince her to go with him, but to do so as his semi-official girlfriend.
Challenge accepted.