“Yes? It’s only going to get worse. I’ve a few errands to run, and I’d rather not do them amidst an actual snowstorm.”
Ethan visibly shivers, his arms coming around him in a subconscious hug. Distaste passes over his face, lingering even as he clears his throat. “Of course. That makes sense.”
It’s obvious he doesn’t like the cold. I bet he also lives somewhere south where the temperature doesn’t drop below sixty-five. Now that I think about it, he does sport a bit of tan even if his complexion is on the paler side compared to mine. I’ve lived in Canada all twenty-five years of my life, but my mom is originally from New Mexico.
Tucking my hands in the pockets of my uniform, I flash him another smile and push off the couch. “Well, I better get going then. I’ll see you around, Ethan. And if you haven’t tried ice-sculpting, I recommend giving it a go. It’s great fun, even if you suck at it like me.”
He cracks a smile at that. It’s subtle and a little awkward, which tells me he doesn’t smile as much as he should, but it stays with me all the way to the village even though I try to shoo it away from my mind. I manage that by the time I head back, but then I remember how nice and soft his hand felt when we shook, how different his slender fingers were from my chaffed ones.
I stifle down a smile, biting on my lip. He intimidates me a little, but in a good way. I expected him to be a lot more stuck-up, to act like he’s above me, but his slight cluelessness and how out of his element he seemed both in the morning and in the lobby only fueled my curiosity.
He doesn’t want to be here, that much is obvious. And he looks like he has absolutely no idea how to relax. So, being the pro at chilling that I am, is it so wrong of me to want to make his stay here at the North Paradise a little less awful?
The Hotel doesn’t pay me for that—I’m a chef-in-training and my duties are in the kitchen—but it’s been a long time sincesomeone intrigued me and I have no intention of letting this opportunity slide. Especially when my hunch tells me I’m not alone in thinking that.
Even if the grumpy billionaire I’ve set my sight on might require a nudge or two.
Chapter 3
Ethan
I stare at thewonky ice carving that’s supposed to be shaped like a star but looks more like a blob. The other participants, who Jake omitted to mention are mostly kids, have done a way better job at theirs. There are even a couple who did the more advanced fish shape.
“It’s okay. You’ll get the hang of it,” the instructor tells me as she stops by my workbench and studies my abomination of a sculpture. “Some people are just better with their hands than others. Plus, Terry and Ema have been coming to the ice-sculpting activity for a week.”
Yes, thanks. Now I feel so much better that random kids are better at this as me, an adult who prides himself as a quick learner. Honestly, it’s downright embarrassing. And I don’t like to feel embarrassed. Or like I failed. Or that I couldn’t ace something from the first try.
Since I took over the company, I’ve doubled our revenue and employee retention rates. I went by feel, doing what made sense to me. Yes, I relied on the stuff I learned at business schooland what I observed others do, but I put my own spin on things. An improvised, one hundred percent gut-feeling-based spin.
So, excuse me for feeling a little salty over fourth graders beating me at ice-sculpting. As silly and inconsequential as it might be. I allowed myself to be talked into the activity by Jake, so actually, I suppose half of the fault lies with him.
Yeah, that sounds about right. He’s the one that indirectly convinced me to try this and as such he needs to take responsibility. It’s only fair.
“It’s a little rough around the edges I’d say, but it definitely has potential.”
My heart launches out of my chest, crashing into my ribcage. I whelp, spinning on my heel so suddenly, I headbutt Jake in the chin. He groans, stumbling back and rubbing his jaw. But the smile doesn’t drop from his handsome face. It only gets more potent, like the thrills chasing down my spine as the caress of his warm breath lingers behind my ear and spreads through the rest of my suddenly alert body.
“Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologizes, offering a half-sympathetic, half-amused smile as I fight to catch my breath.
Just like Charlie hates haunted houses, I’m bad with anything even remotely reminiscent of a jump scare. Horror movies are the only exception, and it’s just those gory slashers that you watch for the creative dying. Or the comical special effects.
I take a deep breath and attempt to collect myself. The flush spreads from my ears to my cheeks as Jake aims those disarmingly captivating eyes my way and chews on his bottom lip to stop his smile from turning into a grin. I think he can tell that the ice-sculpting didn’t exactly go as planned.
“It’s okay,” I say, my voice coming out a little hoarser than usual. I convince myself that it’s because of the combination of the cold and the scare he gave me.
Jake steps away and crosses his arms. He’s decked out in a thick winter jacket that makes him look even more muscular, and a woolen cap that does a bad job at taming his wild curls. If his hair was a couple inches longer, I bet he wouldn’t even be able to put it on. For some reason, the moment the thought crosses my mind, I feel an almost irresistible itch to run my hands through his messy locks. But I push it down by letting my attention steer toward his face again. It’s a little rosy from the chill, and I have to suppress an even stronger urge to rub the coldness from his skin.
“I hope you enjoyed some of it,” he says, casting his gaze around the emptying patio. “Though we do pride ourselves in having some of the best ice-sculpting talents in the whole country. Don’t stay out for too long, Ethan. You are a little underdressed.”
He leaves me with that parting comment and disappears back inside the hotel with his bulky backpack.
Dinner is Mediterranean-themed. I took my laptop with me to the restaurant, so I could try and do some work while eating. But the wonky internet and the fact that I don’t actually have anything to do kind of ruined my plan.
A frisson of irritation crosses through me. I still can’t believe Jenny screwed me over like this. I get where she is coming from, in theory, but I really am at a loss about what to do with so much free time. Back home in Miami, I’d always find something to do around the office even if I didn’t have any meetings to prepare for. It’s just how it is—no matter how efficient your company is or how reliable your employees are, as the owner there is always more you can do. I mean, look at Anaand even her brother, Ben, who’s Charlie’s partner. Even though he’s technically not the CEO since his sister is in charge, he’s just as busy as I when he’s not fawning over my brother.
A smile stretches my mouth as I think about those two. They’ve been into each other since they were teenagers, though neither had the balls to do something about it at the time. And then Ben’s family moved… only for him to run into my little brother at a haunted house on Halloween of all things.
After another futile attempt to find some leftover piece of work that needs doing, I give up. My PA has done an impeccable job of ensuring there isn’t anything, which means that I am really stuck here for a week with nothing to do.
