Blake walked me inside and my jaw dropped. The backside of the house was completely glass. It was a stunning view of Blueberry Basin, which included Pryors Peak, the resort’s biggest mountain. The location was impeccable; his father had excellent taste.
“You must be Claire!” A woman walked into the living room and shook my hand.
“Claire, this is my mother, Patsy. And my dad, James!”
Mr. Walker himself came barreling into the room, profusely apologizing for his tardiness. “I’m sorry, I had to take a call. So nice to meet you, Claire. Blake has been talkingabout his new girlfriend for the last two hours. It’s lovely to put a face to the name.”
He told them I was his girlfriend? I knew we were fake dating for the sake of my own needs, but I was shocked that he would continue the ruse with his parents. That had much longer implications than anything else. I hadn’t even told anyone that we were dating but just let the rumors fly. This seemed to change the tables. After I was able to swallow that pill, I turned to James and took in the man who had inadvertently gotten me fired from my job.
“Wonderful to meet you both. What a gorgeous home you have here. You have excellent taste in location.”
“Thank you, dear. Blake tells us that you were born and raised here? I bet you’ve seen quite a lot of changes in your lifetime.”
I held back my laughter. He didn’t know the first of it. “Oh yes. This place used to be a small community of miners and the railroad. The mountains were skiable of course but on just a much smaller scale. As you know, we only had a rope tow. Now there’s heated bubble chairs and the little lifts even have bars to keep people from falling. That was quite the change.”
“But that didn’t stop Claire from falling out today, did it?” Blake busted up laughing, taking a sip of his hot tea.
“Claire, may I get you something to drink?” Patsy asked. “We’re warming up with Moroccan mint tea this evening.”
“That sounds lovely, thank you.”
Patsy clasped her hands together and smiled, departing for the kitchen.
“Dad, Claire actually worked on the Sage Mountain Airport design.”
Though I was considering sharing that fact myself, since the words were out, they felt in bad taste.
“Is that so? What do you do, Claire?”
“I’m a designer, mostly creating unique indoor spaces these days. I created the airport lounge.”
He lit up like a Christmas tree. “We loved that design and are very excited to bring it into fruition. May I ask, why did you turn down the job for the outdoor area?”
I felt a scowl move across my face as my jaw went slack. “I didn’t turn it down. I submitted a design, and then I was fired for it.” The air in the room became thick anduncomfortable. I may have overshared, but the confusion was real.
James gathered his thoughts; his brow furrowed. “We never received your design, Claire. Who oversaw the project?”
He was asking for names? Yikes… Not that it would have been hard for him to find out for himself, so I might as well have said. “Patricia.”
James was mid-sip of his steaming hot tea when I answered. He nearly choked in response. “Patricia has been on the outs for almost a year after getting tangled up in a scheme to embezzle money from the firm. She’s only still an employee because HR couldn’t prove she was directly involved. Claire, Patricia is a very unhappy person that we need to pray for, but so you’re aware, she never submitted a design on your behalf. In fact, she told us last Friday that the designer we were looking forward to hearing from declined the job andquit.”
Blake put his hand on my shoulder as I took it all in. The betrayal was real, but something James said stuck out to me the most:We need to pray for Patricia.That thought could not have been further from my mind every time I dealt withher, and it was a humbling thought.Lord, I pray for those who have hurt me.
“Who’s hungry?” Patsy walked over from the kitchen holding a charming teacup and saucer with an intoxicating mint aroma.
James was the first to answer. “I’m so hungry that I may waste away.” He put a hand on his portly stomach and followed his wife into the dining area. Blake and I just a stepped behind.
While the home was an open concept, the dining area had a short wall that divided it from the kitchen. Once I turned the corner, I saw the long, gorgeous dark wood table perfectly set with a dramatic silver table runner. Each porcelain plate had a modest silver rim and sat on a black charger plate. Three candles ran down the center of the table, each bright white, held by classic sterling silver candlesticks. The Walkers had impeccable taste for tableware, décor, and homes.
Patsy lifted up the lids to the dishes in the center of the table, revealing a roast, colorful vegetables, and a delectable salad with creamy dressing. “I hope you’re hungry,” Patsy spoke to the room but directed her attention to me. “Dig in, Claire. You’re a guest, so you go first.”
I reached for the serving ware, my hand feeling foreign on the heavy material, and I felt self-conscious serving myself in front of people watching. Taking the salad plate, I doled out a healthy portion of what looked like a Caesar onto it. I was ready to sit back down and just eat that, but Patsy piped up before I did. “James has already carved the roast.”
“Thank you.” I took the metal tongs and retrieved the smallest piece from the side, placing it on my dinner plate along with a hearty scoop of vegetables. “It smells amazing, Patsy. Thank you for this meal,” I said as I set my plate down and waited for the others to get their portions.
After everyone had food, I didn’t want to be the one who took the first bite, so I waited. Blake was the first, so I dug in. While the food was divine, the company was even more so. I was pleasantly surprised by Blake’s parents’ sense of humor and the lighthearted conversations and funny anecdotes that James shared. When Patsy stepped away at the end, returning with a tray holding four perfectly plated desserts, I was glad the evening wasn’t over yet. “Cheesecake, anyone?” My favorite.
After dessert, James pulled out a cigar from his shirt pocket, under his unbuttoned jacket. “I know, bad habit. Blake,my boy, why don’t you join me and tell me your plans for New Year’s Eve tomorrow.”
