“Offer,” I clarified, determined to keep that unsavory word off the table.
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
I nodded, challenging her over a forkful of pie.
“Fine. Then I accept youroffer.”
I couldn’t believe the plan had worked. For the first time since I’d arrived home, I might have a chance to turn things around.
“Great!” I said, disbelief lingering in my tone. “Welcome to Team Villain. We wear black on Wednesdays and chisel candy canes into shivs.”
Sage shook her head, trying her best to keep a straight face. “Nice. I love arts and crafts. What days do we sing toxic Christmas carols and burn gingerbread cookies?”
I grinned, not bothering to hide my satisfaction, and slid over the empty pie dish. “I’ll check the calendar.”
Another awkward silence stretched between us as if we didn’t know whether we should slip back into our old ways or keep our distance. Sage shuffled her feet and opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again with a nervous breath.
“Do you…want a cup of coffee?” I asked, gesturing to the coffee station I’d refreshed on the off chance a guest stopped in the lobby. “Salt-free. I swear. Though I have a heavy hand with the grinds, so it might be a little strong.”
“Um. Yeah, okay.” She hesitated for a second, then dove into action, preparing two steaming cups. “I should let you know what you’re in for. I put together a plan to help save the lodge, but I’ll need your approval.”
“What’s your idea?” I took one of the coffee cups and rounded the reservation desk to claim a spot on the sofa. Sage sat at the other end of the couch, crossing her legs beneath her. There was an empty span of upholstery between us, but it was a start.
“I went over all the options. Since Team Villain can’t use a nefarious device to brainwash everyone, the only way to heal your rift with the town this season is to fix the past. You’vespent all of your energy restoring the lodge. Now we have to restore their faith.” Sage pulled out her phone and opened a file, then zoomed in. “I reviewed the resort’s property survey online, and right here—” She tapped the screen. “Is the perfect place to rebuild the skating rink and the gazebo. What do you think?”
Excitement gleamed in her eyes, but my stomach dropped. It was the perfect plan. Restoring the rink and building the gazebo would bring in more tourists and families to the resort. The gazebo specifically would be great for outdoor events and private parties. Both features would increase revenue while bringing back a memorable pastime. The downside was it cost money I didn’t have.
“Are you sure you don’t know any coercion spells? Because I can’t afford to rebuild the rink. I can handle the gazebo if nobody minds a DIY project. But there isn’t a budget for anything else.”
Sage’s features softened. “I had a feeling finances might be an issue. My parents mentioned you’ve been doing most of the work yourself. Honestly, the place looks great. Remember, there used to be holes in the wall over there?” Sage pointed to where I’d arranged small tables for guests to have drinks in front of the windows. “And it was so drafty! The carpet always smelled like wet feet, and someone had the bright idea to use plaid wallpaper by the reservation desk.”
“Yeah, the wallpaper was awful, and the radiator never worked right. If you didn’t sit close enough to the fireplace to test the flammability statement on your jacket, you’d freeze.”
Sage nodded and sipped her coffee. “Which is why I always had to warm my boots.” Her gaze returned to the mantel where I’d hung the skis. “I remember those, too. They look like the pair your great-grandfather had.”
“I can’t believe you recognize them.”
“Well, you dragged me through a lesson on the history of skiing with an extensive portion of show and tell. It wasso boring, but also kind of endearing. You’re a bit of a ski nerd.”
“There is no such thing!”
She scooted closer, closing the expansive upholstery gap. “There is too.” Our eyes held for a long moment before the teasing glint slipped from her gaze. She looked away and self-consciously rubbed the back of her neck. “Um. Anyways. Back to the point. Even if you had the money to burn and wanted to build both attractions on your own, it’s not the way. You want the town to feel like they’re involved. Bringing the community together for this project is as important as where it’s located. Which is why I’m proposing a series of fundraisers.”
A rough laugh escaped my throat. “They’d throw cupcakes in my face if I tried to host a bake sale.”
“Oh, you will not be baking. I saw your attempt at a turkey dinner. Leave the fundraising to me. All you have to do is show up.” She leaned in, resting her elbows on her knees. Her blonde hair brushed softly against her shoulders, and the fire warmed the splash of freckles across her cheeks. “Trust me, Leo.”
My fingers pressed into my palm before I did the unthinkable and defied the remaining space between us.
“I trust you,” I said, not sure if I trusted myself.
Sage exhaled a heavy breath, her nervous smile returning. She leaned back, breaking the spell, and checked the time on her phone. The room felt colder; ice flowing into the crack that had fractured our connection.
“I have to go. I slipped away while my parents were in a turkey coma.” She reached into her pocket to remove the note she’d written for me and tapped the folder paper. “Inside are directions. Meet me at that location first thing on Saturday morning. No excuses. No complaints. You asked for my help. Remember that.”
I lifted my hands, palms out, in defense. “You’re the professional. I’ll concede to your wisdom.”
She finished her coffee and handed me the empty cup. “Bring my trophy with you, and you better keep your end of the bargain. We made a deal.”
