“Okay. Should I, ummm, I mean… Who’s going to bring your stuff over?”
Her neck flushes. “There’s not a lot. I’ll manage on my own.”
“Okay.” My glance drifts to the window. In the meanwhile, it’s grown dark. “How will you get back?”
She shrugs. “On the bus?”
“On the bus?” I laugh. “Paisley, you’re in Aspen Highlands. You’re more likely to run into a bear than a bus.”
“Then I’ll call a taxi.” She pulls her phone out of her bag, types, and then pauses. “What’s your address?”
“I’ll drive you.”
She hesitates. “What about your ‘You do your thing; I’ll do mine.’”
I am already on my way to the little wooden stand by the front door to take my keys out of the drawer. My snowboarder charm jingles. “Starts tomorrow.”
Paisley shifts her weight from one leg to another and sucks in her lower lip.
I tilt my head and let out a deep sigh. “What are you waiting for?”
“I’m weighing the situation.”
“Ah. And?”
“Whether running into the bear would really be worse than having you drive me.”
“We can test it if you want. At the next bear, I’ll let you out.” I toss my keys from one hand to the other and grin. “Or, nah. Maybe not. My dad would kill me if his new chalet girl was unable to make me a millet bowl after ending up in some black bear’s stomach.”
“Funny.” She puts her bag on her shoulder and sighs. “Fine. Let’s go.”
“You could also get a snowboard, naturally,” I joke, open the door, and we go outside. The recessed lighting is emitting warm light and illuminating the dancing snow. It’s ridiculously cold. “If you stick to the slope, you’ll be downtown in no time.”
Paisley gets snow in her eye. She blinks several times before wiping her lashes with her fists. “If I knew how to snowboard, I probably would.”
“You don’t know how to snowboard?” I stop and repeat in disbelief. “You move to Aspen, and youhonestlydon’t know how to snowboard?”
Paisley knits her brow. “You’re acting as if that was some kind of deadly sin.”
“No but…it’s just so unusual. What about skiing?”
She shrugs and walks over to my Range Rover. “I can ice skate. That’s enough.”
“At some point I’ll teach you,” I say. “Snowboarding is cool.”
Paisley opens the passenger’s side door and sits down. “Maybe I’ll teach myself.” Her side-glance seems amused. “You know…the ‘my thing, your thing’deal.”
“Good, do that.” I turn on the heated seats, start the motor, and back out of the driveway. “And I’ll secretly film you.”
“Oh, how nice! A stalker.”
“Oh, how nice! Bribery material.”
She laughs. “For what?”
“Who knows. At some point it will no doubt come in handy.”
“For sure.”
