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Pulling up in the ski resort car park, he put on his winter gear and headed to the center. Crossing the reception into the café, he went through the back foyer, where he took the stairs to his office in order to change into his skiwear. Being the assistant manager had some perks, and his own office was one of them.

Before he could head back out again, there was a knock at the door.

The general manager stuck his head round. “Are you decent?”

“Yeah, Ben. I wouldn’t have unlocked the door otherwise.” Sam flashed him a grin. “Not unless I’d wanted to scar you for life with the sight of me in a state of undress.”

Ben smiled as he entered. “I’ve seen worse. Listen. Can I have a word with you after your class?”

Sam frowned, his jaw tightening. What else is going wrong? “Is everything okay?”

Ben glanced away. “Course. Just want to run something past you.”

“Right.” Sam eyed him, but Ben didn’t elaborate. “I’ll come find you after.”

Ben shot him a smile. “Thanks.”

He left the room, and Sam made his way out and onto the slopes to greet the kids’ class.

“Come on, Oliver. pizza, remember?” Sam rubbed his face. The children’s class was a massive pain in the arse.

He showed Oliver how to make a snowplow. Again. “It’s like this, see? A V, like a slice of pizza.”

“I’m hungry,” said Oliver, scowling.

Sam sighed. “We’re nearly done, and then your mum will be here to pick you up. Maybe you’ll even get some real pizza for lunch.”

Oliver threw his hands in the air and launched himself down the baby slope. “Pizza! Yeah!”

Unfortunately, he didn’t follow through with making the pizza shape with his feet. Meaning he gathered too much momentum and careened into the rest of the kids, knocking them over like dominoes and resulting in a cacophony of crying.

Sam let out a slow breath. “I’m too old for this shit.”

He skied down the slope to lift all the kids back onto their feet, then managed to make it through the last few minutes of the lesson. Fair enough, Vicky’s fiancé had gotten a new job in Inverness, which had necessitated her move, but right now he was finding it hard not to curse her for leaving him in this mess.

Sam’s thoughts flicked onto Maya and he almost let out a groan. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her when he hadn’t done so in years? Apart from the odd time he’d seen her from a distance, which had led to a little spike in his heart rate followed by a day or so of reminiscing about the might-have-beens. But that was all. Though probably still too much for someone he’d had only a brief dalliance with back when they were eighteen years old. He was closer to thirty than his teens now.

Why had he started thinking about her in the first place? Oh yes, the kids’ class. That had always been Maya’s strength. A half-formed thought entered the back of his mind, relating to the fact that they had an instructor vacancy for the kids’ class and Maya was back in town, jobless. Realizing that was the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, Sam quashed it, and set about rounding the kids up to take them back to the center. He huffed out his breath as he attempted to gather them together, catching a couple escaping back up the slope out of the corner of his eye. This is like herding cats.

Eventually, he managed to make it back inside, and to Ben’s office.

Sam entered, taking off his jacket. “Come on, then. Hit me with it.” He took a seat in front of Ben’s desk, letting his body slump.

“With what?” Ben asked, glancing up and rubbing the side of his face.

Sam raised his eyebrow. “Don’t try a gentle lead-in. I can tell when you’re gearing up for a bombshell and I can’t be bothered with sugarcoating. Spill it.”

Ben sighed. His blue eyes looked tired, and Sam could swear there was more gray around his temples than there had been a few weeks ago.

“I think the accounts are messed up,” Ben said. “The new firm we hired last tax year don’t seem to be on the ball and whenever I chase them up, I don’t hear back.”

A knot gathered in Sam’s stomach. This certainly wasn’t his area of expertise, but it didn’t feel like a good position to be in. “What does that mean, in real terms?”

Ben rubbed his face again. “I’m concerned that the business is going to owe more tax than we anticipated once the bill comes in.”

“Shit,” Sam said, a hollow feeling spreading through his chest. “Will there be enough to cover it?”

“I’m not sure,” Ben replied, biting his lip.