Since Derek.
But tricking Luke Sterling into coming here might be the best one yet…
Or so I hope, as I open the fridge, the plastered smile shaking on my face.
5
SYSTEM ERROR: HEART NOT FOUND
LUKE
By nine-thirty Monday morning, I'm back in my corner office on the forty-second floor of the Sterling Security building, staring out at Elliott Bay through floor-to-ceiling windows that usually make me feel like I can conquer the world.
Today, they just remind me how far I am from Alder Ridge.
The mid-October sky over Seattle is its usual palette of gray, and I should be reviewing the SafeStay beta reports that arrived this morning.
Instead, I'm replaying the sight of auburn-haired Sage Winters standing in her kitchen at seven AM, simultaneously scrambling eggs, fielding phone calls about cancelled bookings, and trying to prevent Buttercup from eating a guest's Hermès bag.
My computer chimes with another news alert, and I reluctantly turn my attention to the screen.
The headlines have gotten progressively more creative since yesterday:
Tech Billionaire's Mountain Romance Blooms at Historic Inn
Love in the Time of Goat Yoga: Luke Sterling's Weekend Getaway
EXCLUSIVE: Inside the Cozy Retreat Where Seattle's Most Eligible Bachelor Found Love
I scroll through the articles, each one more breathless than the last, complete with photos of me looking disheveled and covered in goat hair.
Mira's Instagram post has spawned an entire media ecosystem, and somehow the narrative has evolved from "awkward midnight encounter" to "whirlwind romance."
My phone buzzes with a text from Connor:Saw the news.Either you work fast or that goat is an excellent wingman.
Another from Grayson:SecureMatch usage in the Pacific Northwest is up 300% since yesterday.You're officially our best advertisement.
And one from Alex that's just a screenshot of a tabloid headline:From Code to Cuddles: Sterling's Small-Town Love Story.
I'm contemplating the various ways I could disappear from public view when my assistant Daniella appears in my doorway, holding what appears to be a stack of phone messages thick enough to stop a bullet.
"Good morning, sunshine," she sing-songs."How was your romantic mountain getaway?"
Daniella Martinez has been my assistant for three years, ever since she graduated from UW with a degree in business administration and the kind of organizational skills that border on supernatural.
She's also one of the few people who can get away with giving me grief about my personal life.
"It wasn't romantic," I say."It was investigative."
"Mm-hmm."She sets the messages on my desk with a theatrical flourish."Well, your investigation has generated forty-seven interview requests, twelve marriage proposals from strangers, and one very interesting call from a producer at Hallmark asking about movie rights."
"Movie rights?"
"Apparently your love story has all the elements of a hit romantic comedy.Small-town innkeeper, big-city billionaire, adorable farm animals, scenic mountain setting..."She counts off on her fingers."They're calling it 'Christmas at the Cascade.'"
I put my head in my hands."Please tell me you're joking."
"I never joke about potential licensing deals."She perches on the edge of my desk."Although I did turn down the reality show proposal.'Bachelor in the Mountains' seemed like a hard pass."
