My bloodstream ignited. “Excuse me?”
He winced. “I mean?—”
“Oh, please enlighten me,” I said, turning back—but avoiding his eyes, because eye contact with Holden West felt like stepping onto thin ice.
He braced his hands on the edge of Toni’s desk, expression serious. “Word in the industry is you’ve been drifting through Europe. Arguing with staff. Walking out. Inconsistent employment.” His head tilted. “Anyone who thinks you’ve lost your touch is an idiot. You were—are—brilliant. But you and I both know the gossip isn’t helping you win Michelin stars.”
I swallowed hard. Damn him.
He continued, “That’s what you desire most, isn’t it? A shot at culinary fame and glory?”
I snorted, because what chef wouldn’t want all of that? “Hiring me does not give your lodge credibility in your quest for Michelin status.”
His jaw flexed. “Not at first. But I think we’re a lot alike. We’ll fight for what we want.”
My breath hitched. I knew a little about Holden. He had a shot at Olympic gold until one fall down a mountain and resulting surgeries stripped him of any chance at it.
We both had a shot at our dreams, and we both failed. What did he think? We could rise from the ashes together?
“Do you want to know why I bought this mountain, Lilah?”
I snorted. “Because your ego needed something to brag about? Or maybe you were simply overcompensating for somesort of size deficiency?” I dropped my eyes below his waistline. Oh God, did I really go there?
His nostrils flared. We glared at each other, the air thick with history and tension.
Finally, he commanded, “Stay.”
“No.”
“You want to cook, Lilah. You want the stars. And my new restaurant can launch you right into them.”
Ihatedthat he wasn’t wrong, that my heart beat loudly like a traitor, because he believed in my talent when I could barely remember what belief felt like. It didn’t help how my pulse reacted to his face and his stupid flannel and his ass in denims. But what were my options right now?
“Fine.” I exhaled.
Relief flashed across his face so quickly he couldn’t hide it.
“But,” I added, holding a finger up, “you stay out of my kitchen. You don’t hover. Don’t interfere. And you don’t ‘pop in’ whenever you like. I will bring you Michelin stars, but you don’t get to be part of the process.”
He lifted both hands, surrender-style, lips twitching. “Deal.”
“And don’t use that smoldering gaze on me, as if that’d make me like you,” I warned.
He smoldered harder. “I know for a fact it works, sweetheart.”
“Not on me.”
He laughed with a warm, rich rumble, and suddenly my eyes snapped to his. Those sexy crinkles at the corners took my breath away. How I wished I could see those deep dimples too, all sexy and?—
“You look really good, Lilah, after all these years.” He caught me off guard with his tone turning too familiar when I didn’t ask for it.
Dammit, I fell right into his trap and his sweet gaze. Oh, no. Absolutely not. I could not and would not fall for Holden West.
I marched straight out. The first woman I came upon in the lobby introduced herself as Rita, the head housekeeper. She pointed to where the kitchen door was. I practically ran to it, like it was my haven, as far as I could get from Holden, for now.
2
SNOWZILLA HOLIDATE
