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Chapter Four
Lexi
The next morning dawns bright and sunny, with a new layer of snow covering the hills and fields surrounding the inn. It glistens and looks like diamonds, as the sun catches the ice crystals on the surface.
Excited at the prospect of fulfilling another one of my happier childhood memories, I tug on my boots, grab my coat, and head to the lobby. Maybe I can go sledding or make one of those snow angels like I did when I was here with my parents.
There’s no one at the reception desk or in the lobby when I get downstairs. Looking around, I tip-toe over to the hallway marked Employees Only and tentatively scan down the long corridor to see if anyone is about who can direct me to where I want to go.
Seeing no one, I turn back towards the reception desk, and right before I’m ready to give up and go back to my room, the tall, handsome bellhop strolls into the lobby. His good looks make my stomach do a little flip. He could compete with any of the hunky male actors I’ve starred with.
When he sees me, he skids to a stop with a surprised expression on his face. “May I help you?” he asks, his voice sounds professional, albeit a little frosty. I thought I’d broken through the bellhop’s chilly exterior yesterday with the unpacking debacle, but apparently not.
“Umm, well.” My acting skills desert me as I stare into his deep brown eyes. His cool demeanor is an eye-opener. Most people fall all over themselves around me, fawning over me, acting like they’re my best friend. But this guy remains aloof.
Did I say something rude to him when he was unloading the luggage from the car? I rack my brain trying to remember what I said to him—granted I was a little distracted by my phone.
Did Evelyn forget to tip him? My mind latches onto that as the reason for his chilly attitude. And I didn’t bother to tip him for room service delivery or helping me with my suitcases yesterday either. No wonder he’s so cool towards me.
Using his name, which thankfully I remember, to help melt the ice, I say, “Brady, I apologize if my assistant forgot to tip you when we arrived, and I still need to tip you for all your help yesterday. I’ll make sure she does.”
My apology seems to make his attitude towards me even chillier, as he looks at me with a glacial expression. “Did you need anything else?” he says, his voice drenched in ice.
Desperate not to spend the whole morning staring at the walls in my room, I blurt out, “Is there somewhere I could go sledding?”
His eyes widen and his expression thaws slightly. “Sledding?” he repeats.
A nervous laugh bubbles up my throat, escaping before I can stop it. “When I stayed here many years ago with my parents, we went sledding.” With an embarrassed shrug, I add, “Guess that’s a silly thing to do at my age.” Quickly turning on my heel, I pivot to return to my suite, so I can nurse my bruised ego and hide my mortification.
“Wait,” he says.
When I turn back towards him, he’s sporting a tentative smile. “I don’t think you ever outgrow sledding. I’ll be happy to take you.”
Shocked at his 180-degree turnaround, I squeak, “You will?”
Brady laughs. “Yes, and you won’t even have to tip me.”
We trade curious looks for a few beats as if we’re each trying to figure out the other person. I’m wondering why he’d offer to take me sledding.
Embarrassed by my lack of manners, I say, “What exactly is your position at the inn?”
“I’m the maintenance man,” he adds.
Even more embarrassed at his off-the-cuff remark, I say, “You aren’t the bellhop?”
A roar of laughter rumbles out of his impressive chest. “Nope.”
Wishing the floor could open and swallow me up, I say, “Oh my gosh! You had to wrangle all those bags, and lug them up the stairs. . . Then stack them in my room. . . I’m so sorry. Please accept my apology.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I add, “Rufus and Harold can haul them all back to the SUVs when I depart.”
Brady stares at my face trying to determine if I’m being sincere. He must be satisfied with what he sees, as he replies, “Apology accepted.” Nodding his chin towards my boots, he adds, “But I don’t think high heels will cut it on the sledding hill. Do you have any other boots?”
I blush at my ridiculous footwear. With paparazzi always lurking in the background, I’m used to putting fashion over comfort. I don’t want to wear something that will give those internet trolls any ammunition to say awful things about me or the way I dress. “Yes, I have some other boots along. Can you wait while I go up and change?”
He nods. “Do you have a parka packed in one of your many cases?” he asks with a playful wink.
I blush a darker shade of red at his well-placed jibe about my amount of luggage, and the fact that the fancy fur coat I’m holding is also not very practical for sledding. “I’ll be back in five minutes,” I say excitedly as I sprint towards the stairs.
