CHAPTER THREE
Colt
I’ve obviously becomeone messed up son of a bitch. Not for hitting on her before she stood up, but for still wanting to fuck her afterwards.
I don’t poach on other men’s women, and Jesus Christ, the woman’s got a bun in the oven. I’m sick. Yep. That’s me. Sick.
Maybe I do need to meditate.
Cleanse. Whatever it is they call it.
I slide my key card in and open the door. This place is kind of funky. Old and new, in a good way. The cabin, from a distance, appeared shabby, broken down almost. But as I enter, I realize everything smells brand new.
No idea what I’m paying for this, but I’d be willing to bet it isn’t cheap. I step in and explore the main room. Cozy. Fireplace. A well-stocked book shelf. Nice selection. Sound system.
Giant screen TV.
Hmmm… Maybe I’m Zen after all.
The kitchen has everything I could possibly need, all efficiently tucked away. There’s even a bar. So much for cleansing. A back porch beckons through French doors. I step outside and take a deep breath. Incredible view. The elevation dips behind me and over the trees I can see for miles. A lake in the valley below and snowcapped peaks in the distance. For the first time in months a melody teases my subconscious. Nothing new, nothing memorable, but when you play for a living the joy kind of ebbs.
“Mr. Forrester?” The valet/bellman has opened the front door and is peeking inside. Chad.
Eager looking kid.
“Just sit ’em there.” I stroll back in, scratching the back of my neck. “All the employees live up here?”
The kid’s hands are shaking a little. He seems nervous as he carefully sets down my luggage and guitar case. I’m used to this. I reach into my back pocket for my money clip.
“Yes sir,” he responds. “Most of the staff live in dorms, and management has cabins on the other side of the Lotus Center. Somebody can give you a tour if you’d like. The place is surprisingly huge.”
“Is that what Miss Richards does?” I ask casually. “Give tours and whatnot?”
“Charlie?” He grins. “Sometimes. She used to teach yoga and lead hikes. She even handled some of the adventure stuff. Before. Well. You know.” He laughs a little self-consciously.
“Nice. So, management puts up entire families then? Mom, dad, and kids?” I start to peel a twenty off my wad.
“A few married couples. Oh, yeah. There is one family. But that’s not an issue for Charlie. She’s alone. Nice digs for sure. She lives in a private cabin. Much better than the dorms.”
I hand the kid the twenty. “Thanks, Chad.”
Chad nods and then his eyes slide toward my guitar. “We’re not supposed to do this, but do you think I could get your autograph? I’ve been a huge fan of yours forever.”
“You play?” His eyes are still on the guitar. I grab a piece of paper from a conveniently placed desk and scribble out a note. My signature’s completely illegible.
“Since I was twelve.” He takes the paper and grins. “Oh, man. Thank you, Mr. Forrester.”
“Stop by some night.” The words leave my mouth unchecked. I’m already bored as hell. “I’ll see what you can do.”
The kid looks like he might burst. “Are you kidding? Oh, man. Oh, man. I will. Thanks again.” He’s backing out of the door like I’m royalty or something. I’m a little surprised he doesn’t bow.
When he finally closes the door, I fidget with the pen in my hand.
Alone, huh?
What kind of asshole would walk away from a woman like that? I pace across the room a few times. No way am I gonna last two weeks.
I can’t look at a fucking view for two weeks.
