Page 70 of Counting Down To You

He scowls, obviously still not a fan of the word. “Work for me,” he corrects. “When the business starts coming in. I’m not saying it pays a lot,” he adds quickly. “But it would be something.”

I stare at him. He’s offering me a job? “I…”

He doesn’t let me finish. Which is good, because I’m not sure what I was going to say. I can’t move out here for this. Especially when he’s right—it probably wouldn’t pay a lot.

“Think about it,” he says. “I don’t need an answer right now. As I said, I’m not going anywhere.” He pauses, seeming to choose his words carefully. “For me, after Alex, I needed a break. Maybe you need one too.” He frowns. But it’s not angry, more contemplative. “Or maybe you need a change. Anyway, the offer’s there.” He glances over my shoulder, then looks back at me. “Leo would be happy, if you stayed.”

I feel a familiar heat rise to my face. “Oh, it’s not like that,” I say quickly. Because it feels different, somehow, lying to a man who lost his partner. “It’s—”

He waves me off—his favorite thing to do, apparently. “I know what it’s like. And he’d be happy,” he reiterates firmly, “if you stayed.”

With that, he gives me a goodbye nod and walks out of the hotel. I glance behind me, in the same direction Stuart had looked. Sure enough, Leo is there, just visible down the corridor, talking to one of the guests. I wonder what Stuart meant, when he said he knows what it’s like. Does that mean Leo has told him that the whole thing is fake? Or has he guessed, maybe?

Like he can sense me looking, Leo’s eyes flick toward me. He holds my gaze for a beat and smiles, before returning his attention to the guest. I look determinedly away, trying not to think too hard about the fact that one small smile has my insides flipping. And trying, really hard, not to replay the words, over and over in my mind. He’d be happy, if you stayed.

Chapter

21

We leave for Refuge midafternoon as planned, Ed driving us to the bubble lift where we’ll start the journey. The group consists of Betty and Louisa, who are wearing matching pairs of Gucci sunglasses; the surprisingly young tech genius Adrian Webber, who I’ve only met once, despite him being on my list of VIPs; Mark, a man in his fifties who is here on a solo trip; and me and Leo. I’m not sure how Betty and Louisa picked the two men, but they all seem to be getting on well, chatting about plans for Christmas and New Year’s.

From the top of the bubble lift, Leo takes charge of the directions—another reason I needed someone else to lead this part of the trip, given I’m still struggling to link the slopes together in any coherent way. I try not to let my nerves show as I sit on the end of a chair lift with Betty, Louisa, and Adrian. I’ve only been skiing a handful of times—why did I think this was in any way a good idea? What if they all ski off and I get lost? What if I fall repeatedly and embarrass myself? What if I break something while falling repeatedly and ruin all their evenings because of it?

When we get off the chair lift, Leo leads us all to the start of a blue run.

“Oh, love, is there a more interesting route down?” Betty asks, adjusting her headband.

“This is just to start us off,” Leo says easily. “We’ve got a few runs before we get there—don’t worry.”

Leo catches my eye, tilts his head in an are you okay gesture. Making me think that there are, in fact, more interesting routes down, but that he’s starting here for me. I work up my best reassuring smile and nod.

And we’re off. Unlike when I’ve been skiing with Leo or Lucie, I’m left much more to my own devices, Leo having to stay near the front of the group. Betty and Louisa soon overtake him, zigzagging down the mountain with expert speed, while Adrian seems content to stay pretty much next to Leo. Mark, it turns out, is a snowboarder, and though he’s quicker than Leo, he doesn’t disappear into the distance like the sisters.

About halfway down, I start to relax. It’s okay. I’m doing this. I’m slow, but I’m doing it, without anyone here to hold my hand.

Though that confidence is tested when we have no choice but to tackle a red run—my first. For that one, Leo sends the others ahead, instructing them on a meeting point, and stays behind with me. I don’t have it in me to protest, not when my mouth is bone dry. He takes me down slowly, instructing me to follow exactly where he skis, and I do, mimicking his turns as best I can. I think I’m a goner a total of three times, but each time, as I’m about to fall, somehow Leo is right there, ready to grab my arm to keep me upright.

When we reach the bottom—the other four already there—I can’t help grinning at Leo. Pure adrenaline rushes through me, making me lightheaded, and it’s all I can do not to burst out laughing.

Do something that scares you. This counts, right? Even if it was already planned well before I opened the challenge.

Leo squeezes my hand in quiet congratulation. And thoughts of the challenge are briefly pushed out of my mind.

The last part of the journey is an easy decline from one of the main slopes, a wooden sign pointing the way to Refuge. And when they say ski in, ski out they really mean it—you can literally ski all the way to the door of the chalet, on snow that is less compacted than on the main slopes.

The place does look a bit like a hut from the outside, to be fair—though a bigger one than I was imagining, based on Betty and Louisa’s description. It has two floors, with a balcony that overlooks the mountains. The wooden roof is covered in snow, making it look like a gingerbread house, and a simple wreath hangs on the front door. The outside porch has a table and chairs on the wooden decking where you can sit and watch the action on the slopes, with white fairy lights running along the banister. There is also, by the looks of things, a large outdoor swing.

I fumble in my ski jacket for the key that was dropped off at the hotel by the owner, but it turns out I don’t need it. The door is already open, meaning Gabriel must already be here—and hopefully the supplies too.

“Well, this is just marvelous,” says Betty as I gesture them all inside. The door opens straight into the living room, where plush armchairs surround a fireplace and a small Christmas tree sits in a corner, tastefully decorated with white and gold baubles.

“There are four bedrooms upstairs,” I say to the little group. “Why don’t you all head up, take your pick? I’ll get some drinks ready for when you’re ready to join us downstairs.”

Four bedrooms. Betty and Louisa had decided to stay over after all, given the logistics of getting to and from the place. They are sharing a room, with Adrian and Mark each having their own. Which leaves one room. Me and Lucie were supposed to share, and I’m very aware that Lucie has been replaced by Leo.

I refuse to think about it as Leo and I head to the kitchen, a pleasant smell of onion and garlic greeting us. It looks like something out of a catalogue, with granite surfaces and stone flooring. There is an actual heat lamp over the island counter in the middle of the room, which suggests that it was very much designed with top catering in mind. Gabriel—I presume—turns from his position at the oven and claps his hands together at the sight of us. He’s wearing a white chef outfit with a tea towel tucked into the front of his jacket.

I can see almost immediately why Lucie fancies him. He has the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing going on, with dark-brown eyes that crease at the corners as he smiles.