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Do I believe her? Does it matter?
My mind is swirling, thinking of a million things I want to scream at her. Through it all, though, I know it’s not her fault. During the breakup, I was not the best employee. The online magazine market is extremely competitive, and if you drop the ball for a second, your job is in jeopardy. That’s just how it is. Journalism is not what it used to be. It’s not like we have pensions and forty-year anniversary parties and things like that anymore. We’re all basically expendable.
So I know it’s not her fault, but I still want to stomp her foot super hard. But I might shatter it and mess up her skiing. And with all the extra tension I have still built up from yesterday and Tucker’s fiasco, I know it would be a lot smarter of me to just not say anything.
With Herculean effort, I force myself to smile over my dry teeth and breathe deeply through my nose. What she’s saying makes a lot of sense. Chad. As a single woman with bills, losing my job is not an option, not in this market. Freaking out is not an option either.
“You know I’m right,” she says softly, as though she could read my mind.
Finally, I manage to nod. “All right, Nance,” I growl. “Let’s fucking go skiing.”
Chapter 4
Lola
"Finally! What the hell took you guys so long?”
Nance strides forward with her arms swinging, barely even registering Roger’s obnoxious tone of voice. Instead of the editor he is, he kind of reminds me of a baby cow, mooing at some obstacle in his path.
I stand there awkwardly with my skis in the driveway, watching Nance effortlessly negotiate her equipment toward the Hummer. Before he even knows it, Roger is taking her skis and poles from her and doing all the heavy lifting.
“Can I get these for you?” comes a soft voice at my ear, sending a chill down the side of my neck. I flinch away automatically, but relax a little when I find I’m staring up into two sky-blue eyes, crinkled behind a friendly smile.
Awkwardly, I hold out my skis. “Yeah, thanks,” I mumble as Chad easily takes them up, clipping them into the ski rack on the side of the Hummer.
Nance shoots me an encouraging look as she sweeps into the passenger seat and closes the door. Chad opens a rear door for me and I climb in, remembering to smile politely at him, with as much flirtation as I can muster. If Nance is right, a little relationship-building with Chad is my only hope of saving this vacation and coming back to Sacramento still employed.
He closes my door for me and Nance twists around in her seat, raising her eyebrows at me.
“You see?” she says in a low, urgent voice. “He likes you. I can tell. Now, focus!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Roger fusses as he gets into the driver’s seat.
Nance pats his thigh dismissively. She lets her fingers linger there, though I know she has absolutely no intention of giving Roger the time of day.
“So where are you taking us?” she chirps brightly.
Chad swings into the seat next to me, closing the door with a thud.
“There is an amazing trail on the north side of the lake,” he grins, his weathered cheeks crinkling handsomely. “Only the locals know about it. It’s just one of those things they don’t tell the tourists.”
“Oh, a local treasure!” Nance continues, somewhat unbelievably in my opinion. “And how did you find out about it?”
“Let’s just say I have my secrets,” Chad says in a voice that only I can hear, winking. Despite myself, I feel my cheeks warming as I smile back. He’s not so bad. He’s got that thick jaw, the wide neck that I like. He fills out his sweater pretty impressively. As a matter of fact, he’s filling out everything pretty well. I imagine he spends a good amount of time here, since it’s only a few hours from Sacramento. He probably knows what he’s talking about.
“Yeah, well, let’s just hope we get there before the weather hits,” Roger grumbles. “Everybody ready? Good.”
Without waiting for anybody to answer, he throws the truck into gear and rolls us into traffic. Here at lake level, it is still sixty degrees. Families are still trying to get motorboats onto the lake for one last pass before the season is over. We drive down the main road, passing groups of cyclists and power walkers. It is still very much a light jacket part of the year.
But as we begin to drive around the bottom of the lake, and the road climbs farther into the mountains, the temperature drops immediately. Soon we’re driving among snowdrifts, brilliantly white sheets of snow along the mountain paths, so sparkling and intense they are impossible to look at.
“It’s gorgeous,” I breathe as we round a corner, with a sheer drop-off on one side and the icy lake below us. All around us are mountains covered in alpine timber and sheets of completely undisturbed snow. Above us, eagles circle against the bright blue sky.
Chad reaches out and snags my fingers, squeezing gently. His skin is warm and dry, very nice to touch.
“It certainly is,” he answers softly, and I feel my cheeks heat up as I blush.
Maybe Nance was right. Chad is not so bad, and he’s clearly into me. If Roger was a slightly better driver, I could see myself snuggling up to Chad here in the back seat. But Roger keeps gunning it around these mountain curves, causing my heart to stop in my chest.
