“I mean romance,” he corrected cheerfully.
Jane glanced at me, eyes wide. Helen looked torn between mortification and the kind of fascination reserved for public disasters.
Collin lifted the box of chocolates like an offering. “I’ve come prepared to do things properly this time.”
Kitty stared at the chocolates, then at him. “Absolutely not.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding as if she had confirmed something important. “Modesty.”
“No,” Kitty said loudly. “Disinterest and rejection.”
Collin waved a hand. “You say that now. But I believe persistence, when guided by sincerity, can be quite persuasive.”
“Can it?” Kitty said. “Or does it just make people want to hide?”
“I’ve also arranged flowers,” he added. “They should be arriving shortly.”
Jane put a hand over her mouth. Meri closed her eyes briefly, as if counting to ten.
I felt a strange mix of relief and secondhand embarrassment. Collin’s attention was no longer aimed at me, but that didn’t mean the chaos had diminished. It had simply shifted targets.
Kitty turned to me. “Make him leave.”
“I don’t think I have that authority,” I said.
Collin leaned closer to Kitty, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I sense potential here.”
Kitty took a step back. “I sense a restraining order.”
Before the situation could escalate further, the distant sound of music drifted in through the windows. A violin, maybe,warming up somewhere nearby. The faint reminder that the gala was approaching, whether we were ready for it or not.
The room fell just slightly quieter.
Collin straightened, smoothing his coat. “Ah, preparations are underway.”
Kitty groaned as a trio of violinists and a poor beleaguered delivery person staggered under the weight of the biggest bouquet that I had ever seen.
I watched the scene unfold with a strange sense of distance, my earlier disappointment settling into something more manageable. The evening had taken on a familiar shape again. Chaos, laughter, interruptions, and unwanted drama that would eventually resolve itself, one way or another.
Kitty gave Collin a look that could kill while Dad put his arm around Collin’s shoulder, steering him out of the kitchen despite his protests.
Mom put a hand to her mouth, following them out.
“I will take the flowers,” Lucy decided. “They can go in the lobby for the guests.”
“Excuse me, musicians? I think you can go home,” I told them, stepping forward. “Kitty, maybe you should retreat upstairs?”
I stepped in to do my part, wondering if I had misread the signals from Ephram. He had asked me out to coffee, but turned down the gala. I should just ask him, I resolved.
Yet I didn’t.
Chapter Twenty-One: The Gala
The Hale Ski Lodge looked like it belonged on the front of a glossy magazine that promised you could reinvent your life if you bought the right wool coat.
White lights traced the roofline and the stone archway. Lanterns glowed along the walkway, the kind that made every snowflake look intentional. Music drifted faintly through the closed doors, softened by glass and distance, and the air smelled like pine, woodsmoke and money.
I stood at the base of the steps with my gloved hands tucked into my coat pockets, breathing slowly so I did not fog up the confidence I had been practicing all week.
