“Charlotte?” he calls out to me, and I know that’s one of Wes’s older sisters. I continue down the stairs until I’m in view.
“My name is Sloane,” I say, walking closer to him. “I’m Asher’s... friend.”
The old man looks me up and down, not in the creepy way men do, but in an eyes-narrowed, assessing way. “Hm,” he says. “I hope my grandson treats you well.” He looks to be in his late seventies ifI had to guess. Gray hair, but he still has a lot of it. And the same green eyes both of his grandsons inherited.
I smile, thinking of the way Wes comforted me on the flight here. “He does.”
“There’s a fresh pot of coffee on the counter if you want any.” He waves a hand toward the kitchen.
I notice he doesn’t have a cup. “Would you like some coffee too?” I offer.
“I would, though I’m not supposed to have the stuff these days... but I’m sure a little won’t hurt.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” I smile at him and his lips turn up in return.
He points a frail finger at me. “I like you.”
I pour us each a cup of coffee, mine with vanilla creamer and his with a splash of milk and two sugars, and sit in front of the fireplace with him while we drink it. I’m not usually nervous around strangers; in fact, I find that I’m pretty personable with most people. There’s just something intimidating about being alone with the patriarch of the McCavern family. The man responsible for generating all of their wealth. I almost feel like I should start taking notes, write down everything he says.
He asks how I like the resort and I admit to him that it’s been great but I don’t know how to ski or snowboard. He says surely Asher must have taken the time yesterday to show me—after all, he used to teach lessons here when he was a teenager—but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the moment we stepped outside I didn’t see Asher again for almost five hours. Not to mention wherever he goes at night.
Asher eventually comes down the stairs and joins us by the fireplace.
“Are you talking Sloane’s ear off, Grandpa?”
“She was nice enough to come down here and sit with me,” his grandpa says. “Lord knows my grandkids don’t visit anymore.”
“I literally live here with you when I’m not at school,” Asher says, and that’s news to me. Clearly I missed a few topics when I questioned him. “What’s on your agenda for today, old man?”
“Preparing for tonight’s dinner and driving Elaine crazy,” he says. Assuming Elaine is the live-in nurse.
“Well, don’t do that, or one of these days she might poison your meds,” Asher jokes.
“If only,” his grandfather says back. “Hey.” He grabs onto Asher’s hand with his own weathered pair and says, “This one’s a keeper, so don’t fuck it up.”
We both laugh, and I feel bad lying to their grandfather. “I’ll try not to,” Asher says.
“And teach the poor girl how to ski before you leave, would you?”
Asher looks over at me, then back to his grandpa. “I’m trying,” he lies. “She’s a slow learner.” I just shake my head. “Well, Sawyer, go get your tight little snowsuit on. It’s early, so not a lot of people will be over there yet.”
“What, now?” He has to know I had plans today with the girls.
“Yes, now. You’ll be back by noon for the spa.” He gives me a look that saysdo it for my grandpa or I won’t hear the end of it.
I look between him and his grandpa and give a smile before getting up. “It was nice talking with you,” I say. “I’ll see you at dinner.” He gives me a smile and I turn to go back to the room and put on that monstrosity of a snowsuit.
The sun is bright this morning and the fresh snow glistens as Asher and I head out to the slopes.
“Did you have fun with Brandy last night?” I ask him.
“Do you really want to know the answer to that?” he says, looking down at me.
I look away. “Not really.” I follow him as we walk past the bunny hills, toward the lifts. “Wait, where are we going? The bunny hills are over there.”
“I know, but you practiced on those yesterday.”
“And it didn’t go well. I don’t think I’m ready for a bigger hill.”
