I decided right then that one glass of wine was all I was having tonight. I needed to stay in control. I needed to keep my head clear and remember why I was really here. If I didn’t start getting results soon and convince the Northwoods to sell, my father was going to cut me off from my trust fund entirely. I wasn’t actually on vacation. I was working. I had to stay focused. Without my trust fund, I wasn’t sure who I was.
I would end up broke and stranded in a place just like this. Permanently. Cut off from everything I’d ever known, without access to everything I had always assumed would be mine because of my family name.
The thought should have motivated me. It should have reminded me of what was at stake. Instead, as I watched Sylvie laugh at something Aspen whispered in her ear, I found myself wondering if being stranded here would really be such a terrible fate.
The realization was sobering enough to make me put down my wine glass and step back from the warm circle of light surrounding Sylvie and the children.
I was in deeper trouble than I’d thought.
CHAPTER 25
SYLVIE
“Will you excuse me for a minute?” Kent said. He looked a little pale.
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine. I just want to put my coat in my room. Make room for the others.”
It was a lame excuse. I looked around to see what might have upset him. Maybe it was just too many people at once. “Okay. Dinner will be served soon.”
I wandered over to the bar where Emmy was holding court. I could immediately see why she was in such a good mood. The guy she’d mentioned meeting at the coffee shop earlier was standing beside her with the kind of easy smile that suggested he was completely charmed by her animated storytelling.
“Sylvie!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me close. “This is Mitch. Lucy’s brother.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said.
I could see the writing on the wall. She was warning me about hooking up with Kent, but she was looking at Mitch like she was trying to decide where to lick first. He was exactly Emmy’s type: tall, blond, and built like he could wrestle a grizzly bear and win. He had that rugged outdoor look that Emmy always went for,though it was rare to find guys like that who could also keep up with her quick wit and boundless energy.
Lucy was there with her husband, Sean. The whole group seemed to be in high spirits as they discussed their holiday plans. Mitch was telling them about his family’s tradition of deep-sea fishing on Christmas morning down in Florida, while Emmy was regaling him with stories about some of our more eccentric local Christmas traditions.
“Wait, you’re telling me people actually race down Main Street in sleeping bags?” Mitch asked, his eyes wide with delighted disbelief.
“Every year for the past thirty years,” Emmy confirmed. “And people take it very seriously. There’s a trophy and everything.”
I loved seeing Emmy like this—animated and flirtatious, clearly enjoying the attention from someone who appreciated her personality instead of just tolerating it. Too many guys in our small town had known her since childhood and couldn’t see past the fact that she’d once put gum in Tommy Morrison’s hair during Sunday school. It was hard to look at guys you considered brothers for most of your life and get excited. One of the downsides of small-town living. Our dating pool was pretty slim. It wasn’t like we had any kind of industry that attracted healthy, single, young men.
I was a fly on the wall, half-listening to Mitch and Emmy while keeping an eye on the party itself. I was technically the hostess. I wanted to make sure everyone was having a good time. I spotted Kent. He was holding a glass and talking with one of the locals. He looked comfortable. Relaxed.
And sexy as hell.
My pleasant observations were interrupted when Lucy turned her attention to me with a knowing look.
“So, Sylvie,” she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “People have been asking questions about your handsome lodge guest all evening. What’s the story with you and Kent?”
I kept my expression neutral. “There’s no story. He’s just staying at the lodge for a few days.”
“Uh-huh,” Sean said, not looking convinced. “And that’s why he’s watching you like a hawk right now? I swear the man has some kind of internal Sylvie radar. Every time you move, his head turns to track you.”
I glanced across the room and caught Kent looking in my direction. When our eyes met, he raised his wine glass slightly in acknowledgment before turning back to his conversation with Brom and a couple of other local business owners.
“You’re all being silly,” I said, but I couldn’t deny that I loved knowing Kent was keeping tabs on me.
There was something thrilling about feeling his attention on me, knowing that even when he was engaged in conversation with other people, part of his focus was always on where I was and what I was doing. It made me feel noticed in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was not something I hadeverexperienced, if I was being honest.
When dinner was announced, I made my way to the buffet table with everyone else, loading my plate with Stacy’s famous casseroles, fresh rolls, and winter vegetables that had been roasted to perfection. The spread was impressive for such a small gathering. Clearly the Northwood family had pulled out all the stops, despite their financial struggles.
I found an empty table near one of the decorated trees and was pleased when Kent appeared with his own plate, settling into the chair across from me without asking if the seat was taken. There was something intimate about the gesture, as if he’d naturally assumed we’d eat together.
