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CHAPTERONE
Della Swanson dropped the duster into the side pocket of her cart, then turned to face the room. For the very last time, she soaked in everything that was Van Claybourne. The gleaming grand piano, the drum kit in the corner, and the unusual instruments hanging on the wall. She could imagine this house filled with people jamming, talking, eating good food…having a great time.
And she’d wanted to be part of that.
She’d applied for this job because, unlike other seasonal resorts, it paid well and covered room and board. It certainly hadn’t hurt that her rock star idol had a house here, but never in a million years had she thought she’d actually get to clean it.
Getting this assignment had felt like fate, like the universe had thrown them together. She’d never really known what to think of Van. She’d fallen for him because of his brilliant, powerful lyrics, but the media depicted him as a hard-partying manwhore. Which one was he?
Once she’d gotten a glimpse of his private world, though, he’d wound up surpassing her expectations. His home didn’t have any of the gross stuff associated with rock stars. No used condoms, empty booze bottles, or thongs dangling off lampshades.
She figured she’d meet him at some point. How could she not? She’d been in Calamity six months.
Sure, he was touring right now, but he took breaks. He’d been here. She knew because sometimes she’d show up to clean and find dishes in the sink, leftovers in the refrigerator, and an unmade bed.
And now it was over. In two hours, she’d board a shuttle to the airport and go home. This really was it. Her last time ever in Van’s vacation home.
She took one last look at the framed photos lining the mantel. Him with his dogs, with children she assumed were nieces and nephews, and with his mom and grandparents. He might not be married (thank God), but he was a family man through-and-through.
He was nothing like his public persona.
Her heart clenched…what if I stay a few more days…one more week?
Cut it out. It was time to go home. She’d come out here to work so she could save up a pile of cash, and she wasn’t about to burn through it for a silly schoolgirl fantasy.
“Bye, Van.” She pushed her cart out the door and blew a kiss into the empty room.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
The shuttle soared down the highway. It was nearly empty, so Della had a row to herself and could chat freely on the phone with her best friend.
“Hey,” Micky said. “I thought I was driving you.”
“You’re six months pregnant and building a new home, not to mention the crazy hours you work. There’s no way you’re driving me to Salt Lake City.” Della was happy her friend had created such a beautiful life for herself, but there was a tiny corner of her heart that ached.
And it wasn’t just that pinch of jealousy that Micky had it all—a dream job, a sexy, kind fiancé, and a whole new, exciting life. It was that she would miss her dearest friend with everything she had.
“I wanted to drive you. Della…” Her friend sounded disappointed. “I don’t know when I’m going to see you again.”
“Sure, you do. I’ll be there when the baby comes in August.”
“You don’t know that. You’re going to be busy starting your company. It’s not like you can bail on clients.”
Della glanced out the window, feeling more alone than she ever had in her life. Every mile took her closer to home and a future she’d never expected. She and Micky were supposed to start this event planning business together. And now she had to do it on her own. “Oh, please. There’s nothing that would keep me from meeting my godchild.”
“I’m going to miss you.”
Leave it to Micky to see right through Della’s swagger. “Yeah, me, too.” They’d never been apart. Not since they’d met in first grade.
“I wish you’d stay.”
The frank sadness in her friend’s tone made Della close her eyes. “I know.” But it was different for Micky. She’d fallen in love with a man from Wild Wolff Village, a ski resort in Calamity, Wyoming. She was engaged and pregnant with her first child, and there just wasn’t room for Della.
“I wish you’d consider working here with me. I know I can get you a job.”
“Why would I want a job when I can run the whole show?” She rallied with a teasing tone. “Come on, you know me better than that.” Not that she hadn’t thought about it. Of course, she had. But they’d come to the village to work and play together, and instead Micky had been preoccupied with building a house, OB/Gyn visits, and spending time with her fiancé. It wasn’t her friend’s fault, but Della had been peripheral.
And that’s not who I am.
