“No. I’m not ready to face them yet.”
He lifted a brow. “Does your family still run that diner in the city, and the bagel company?”
“Yep.” I hated how much he knew about me. It’d be easier to work for a boss I had no history with. “Mom and Dad want me home, back in the business with them.”
Holden studied my face a little too hard, making me squirm. “No. You’re definitely meant for more, Lilah. Why do you think I wanted you here working for me?”
I sucked in a breath and swallowed at his observation of me. He wasn’t wrong. I never wanted to settle for the diner life like my family.
“I always aspired to what my grandfather achieved.” A renowned culinary artist with worldwide respect, he even landed on TV and in books. Perhaps because his own son was only a diner owner in Brooklyn, Pops instilled bigger dreams in me long ago. Better kitchens. Michelin stars. Fame, maybe.
“Now that you’re at Quest, you’re on the right track. Surely, your family can respect your wishes. Although it doesn’t hurt to return home now and then for a traditional family holiday meal. I’ll bet your mother cooks up a good one with ham and all the fixings.”
“I haven’t been back since—the wedding disaster.” After everything with Brad ended, he’d immediately closed our restaurant in Lucerne. That place was to be my pride and joy, a wedding gift to build my name on. Instead, my life fell apart. Opting out of Christmas became the easiest thing to do.
I stared at the empty laundry carts, a metaphor for my life somehow. “Christmas stopped being magical for me long ago.”
“I wish I could erase everything that happened on your wedding day.” His gaze grew dark and intense. “If we could talk about it, I think it’d help,” he added. But the elevator doors opened, saving me from going there.
Back on the basement floor, he took the cart from me, our hands brushing once again. The spark jolted me, tempting me into a conversation I didn’t want to have, and a connection I hadn’t asked for. Then my gaze fell on his ass as he put the carts away.
No, no, no!
I turned and ran before he could look too closely at the cracks in my walls. Behind me, I heard him swear under his breath.
I took the stairs, reprimanding myself on each step.
I don’t want a man.
Or disappointment.
Or risk vulnerability and anything that could break open what I’d spent the past several years keeping closed.
I had one job: to makeQuest by Westthe best restaurant this mountain valley had ever seen. Not ruin everything by softening in front of the man who could model flannel wear for any designer. His concern for me was more than I could handle. My ice was melting around Holden every minute I was around him.
8
FROSTY AND FRAGILE
HOLDEN
I roamedaround the first floor, peeking into every space of the lodge. Employees had left things in various stages of readiness for opening day, like they were here working on things and then,poof!suddenly vanished into thin air.
Tools lay about here and there. Half of a strip of wallpaper hung down in the men’s bathroom, the glue drying in a bucket on the floor. Ceiling tiles were missing from a room reserved for meetings and events. I knew better than to try my hand with any of those.
I started a list in my phone of the things I saw that needed to be done before opening day. But here and there I moved things around to my liking, switching one artwork on a wall for another, shifting a seating arrangement five feet to the left—things that wouldn’t exactly get me in too much trouble.
I had to do something to get my mind off Lilah. Like I could sense her presence, her pheromones wrapped around me and wouldn’t let go. My body remained on high alert for any sound or sign of her if ever she left the kitchen. This must be what being stranded on a deserted island with a beautiful woman I couldn’t touch would be like—my own personal Hell.
A cozy space greeted me when I opened a door just down the hall from the main lobby. I had forgotten we’d added a library room into the plans last minute. The designers insisted on a quiet space for people who needed to chill, tucked away from the busy-ness of the lodge. Perfect for families with small children, or for neurodivergent people who became overwhelmed by skiing, or avid readers.
Or as a romantic space given the dark wood shelves lined with books of all sorts, an oversized leather couch, and chairs with plush throws and pillows, plus the beauty of a natural rock fireplace.
A stack of firewood sat ready on the hearth, as did matches on the mantel. Above it, an oil painting by a famous local artist of this very mountain, of course in a seasonal wintry scene. I hadn’t decided what to name my mountain yet, but when I did, I’d add a brass plate with the name engraved on it right at the center of the frame.
Miraculously, this was one space that seemed finished. And cozy enough for two… What would be the odds I could get Lilah to join me in front of the fireplace tonight?
“Yeah, right.” I grunted. The woman made clear her disdain for me, running away from the laundry room when I tried apologizing for the past. Again. Always running away.
