People faked it till they made it all the time. What was one more fabricated photo when I’d come so close?
“Um…of course, I won Agent of the Year. The award’s in my luggage. We can take a photo later.”
Assuming I could conjure up a fake trophy.
“I know the perfect place,” my mother gushed, wrapping her arm around Leo in a way that made my nose crinkle in disgust. “You can do a photoshoot at Leo’s ski lodge. It’ll be the perfect backdrop for your photo.”
“Wait—Leo owns the lodge? I thought it sold to some obnoxious developer last year, you know, the kind that likes to strip out all the small-town charm and replace it with corporate logos and a soulless experience.”
“Sage!” my mother gasped. “Where are your manners? Leo’s company purchased the resort, and he’s hired our shop to host an afternoon tea. If it goes well, it’ll run through the season.” Her voice lowered with a warning. “We’re partners, so be nice, dear.”
My gaze snapped to Leo’s and suddenly the reason he’d been lurking around the tea shop became clear. He wasn’t in France because he was here, winning over my parents with his manufactured charm and piles of money. The whole town was likely falling at his feet, lauding his acquisition of the rustic resort as if it were the new town jewel and he was their king.
As if mocking my speculation, a gust of wind swept through the open window, catching the whisk I’d left on the counter and rolling it to a stop near Leo’s feet—a bad omen if I’d ever seen one.
Leo bent to retrieve the fallen whisk, then held it out to me, offering the utensil as if it were a peace offering, but I knew it was a challenge to a duel. He winked. “Welcome home, partner.”
Chapter 3
Leo
If whisks were sharp,I’d be dead.
Sage eyed the utensil between us. An awkward moment passed before she took it from me with a strained smile. One that was mostly for her parents’ benefit. She dropped it back onto the counter, then wiped her hand on her coat as if it could wipe away my existence.
Nice try, City Girl.
Though her latest nickname didn’t match the Sage I’d known since we were in high school. None of them had ever fit. Because few people knew the real Sage.
Hair changed. Clothes evolved. But Sage’s vulnerability, wrapped up with stubbornness and a dash of sharp humor, was bone deep. She had just learned to package it differently.
And I didn’t hate it—or the way she’d looked dusted in flour—though it was pretty clear she still hated me. I was lucky she hadn’t been able to reach the butcher’s block before I walked into the kitchen.
Although, her murderous expression had morphed into one of mortification. Not that I blamed her. Coming face-to-face with your staged selfies on the kitchen wall was rough. It almost made me want to switch my profile to private.
“Well, this has been so much fun, but I should go unpack. I’ll let myself into the house.” Sage flashed the key in her palm and pulled her ski hat back over her head, hiding her sleek blonde hair. “Wake me up when it’s New Year’s,” she mumbled under her breath before striding toward the swinging kitchen door.
“Wait, honey! You have to join us for lunch at the lodge. We’ve been so busy there’s nothing in the fridge except eggnog, and you know how your father is with the rum ratio.”
“Trust me, there’s not enough eggnog in Cold Spell,” Sage said over her shoulder.
Suzanne trailed behind her, and I could barely make out their hushed conversation by the front door.
“Forget it. I’m not having lunch with him.”
“At least try, dear. We need this arrangement,” Suzanne whispered. “Your father and I had to use some of our retirement savings to pay off a loan for the shop, and now we’re behind.”
“Mom, why didn’t you—?”
David cleared his throat loud enough to urge Sage and her mother to continue their conversation outside. When the door closed with a soft jingle, he sighed and wiped a hand through his long beard. “My daughter’s probably jet-lagged. I’m sureshe’ll come around. She’ll be impressed by what you’ve done with the place.”
Impressed? Try skeptical.Sage would likely start a petition to shut down the resort and kick my commercialized and soulless butt straight out of ski country. The most logical plan was to steer clear of her until she completed her hometown victory lap and went back to her busy life in the city. Because for someone who acted as if he didn’t have a care in the world, I was surprisingly risk averse.
Acquiring the lodge had been my first risk, not only financially, but because I’d left the stability of my father’s real estate development company and struck out on my own. I couldn’t afford to let anything get in the way. But deep down, it was more than that. I needed this place to succeed. I needed its permanence. I’d spent too many years chasing something that had never chased me back.
I wasn’t about to let Sage Bennett sweep into town, put my entire world in one of her magical blenders, and hit liquefy.
She’d enjoy it too much.
