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CHAPTERONE
Winter
The blacked-outSUV idles on the road outside my apartment block. Reuben and I have spent the last ten minutes loading it with my things, including my collection of bobble hats.
Eyeing my sister’s guitar, he asks, “Do you play?”
“No. Clara did.”
He nods, offering a bittersweet smile.
Earlier, I said goodbye to Emily and Justin, promises of imminent visits shared. And despite her broken leg, Betsy has managed to return to a more customer-facing role, albeit not doing what she loves best, which is working the VIP cabins.
Vail has been a good temporary home, but returning to Aspen feels life-giving. A silly part of me feels like the prodigal son—or daughter—returning home and being granted forgiveness for squandering her money. But instead of money, it was my professional reputation that I lost, one that I’m arguably not helping by agreeing to a relationship with three brothers.
I’ve decided not to worry about that anymore.
The journey goes quickly, Roo updating me on a host of things since I last saw them all. When we enter the city limits of Aspen, I message the others, even though they’ve probably been checking the tracking app they installed on my phone without my knowledge.
I’ve forgiven Brecken for that. It might’ve saved my life.
Before long I can see the impressive turret and tower adorned Chateau Balthazar. Snow clings to every surface, the mountain backdrop making it look just as magical as always. Constructed from pale stone, it gleams under the winter sun, hundreds of windows reflecting sparkling light like a deity. It reminds me of a recent gift, hidden under my blouse. Today of all days, I wanted to wear the diamond necklace I unwrapped on Christmas Day, a symbol of our relationship.
I’ve missed them. Each one came into my life so emphatically, with such resoluteness that all I’ve done for the past two days is feel their heavy absence. And it’s no wonder when it felt like I was already living with them.
“Ready?” Reuben asks, sliding a palm along my thigh. “I’m going to leave you with Dale Kowalski to get settled in, but then one of us will be in touch.”
I remember that today’s a Monday. “You have a meeting, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, throwing me a swift, apologetic glance. “A short, but important one. It was either me or a driver.”
Grateful he came for me, we pull up outside the grand, portico entrance. Nerves flutter in my belly, but being here feels so right. And that rudderless sensation I’ve been dealing with since I lost my family, since my career stalled, quiets.
A couple of other cars idle as bellhops assist with newly arriving, or departing guests. We don’t have to wait long before a bellhop brings a trolley over, loading boxes, suitcases, and overnight bags with all my worldly possessions on it. Once the car is empty, Reuben introduces me to Dale before leaving me to it.
“Miss Harris. I’m so pleased to welcome you to Chateau Balthazar.”
“Mr. Kowalski, so nice to meet you. Please, call me Winter.” I shake his hand, smiling brightly. Wanting to look my absolute best today, my hair is down, shiny and sleek from spending so long on it this morning. And I’m wearing smart black pants with a green turtle neck to look semi-professional. Somehow, turning up in jeans didn’t feel right.
He smiles gently. “Then agree to call me Dale. I would give you the tour, but that honor has fallen to someone else. I can at least show you to your room, and point out a few things on the way.”
Officially, tomorrow is my first day, but the HR Director, Dale, with his impressive head of silver-gray hair, is ready to give me a short history lesson on the hotel.
The foyer is beautiful, with highly polished stone floors and elegant furnishings. Three chandeliers hang from a double-height ceiling, the walls cast in golden light. A small shop selling gifts and essentials sits off to one side. Further along is a waiting area, a roaring fire attracting several guests.
“In your room, you’ll find menus and restaurant times for anything you want to order. Laundry and housekeeping are to the left, behind reception.”
We head for a bank of four elevators, Dale asking the bellhop to join us.
Juggling my purse and coat, I hold out my hand to the young man. “Hi. I’m Winter. I’m starting here tomorrow, so I need to start learning names.”
Surprised, he stammers out. “Chris, from Idaho.”
“Well, Chris from Idaho, thanks for taking care of my belongings.”
He smiles and bobs his head as we ascend, his eyes darting to me several times.
“This elevator is the only one that goes to the suites on the upper-most floor,” Dale tells me. “When you have meetings with the executives, make sure you get inside this car.”
