“Simba!” Haley took him, hugging him tightly. The cat’s rigid body went lax, and he nuzzled his face against Haley’s neck and started purring.
I glared at him. He glared back.
“Thanks, Tessa. You’re the best.”
I stroked a hand over her flyaway hair. “No problem, Hay-bear. I need to get to work, but I’ll see you later, okay?”
She nodded and hauled the bad-tempered cat away.
Snatching up my bag, I hurried down the street. Late. So late.
A brisk wind tugged at my hair. Summer was just about to hand over to fall. I grinned. Ilovedthe fall in Colorado. I loved when the aspens turned yellow, and I could pull out my favorite throw blanket that my aunt had knitted for me. Not to mention my gorgeous collection of scarves and hats.
Also, I had pale skin, so summer didn’t agree with me. If I spent too much time in the sun, I turned a lovely shade of virulent pink, then once the sunburn passed, I went back to pale. I couldn’t tan, and I’d tried, lots of times. As a teenage girl, all I’d wanted were boobs, long legs, and tanned skin. I’d gotten one out of three.
“Morning, Tessa,” a woman called out from across the street. She was watering her garden.
“Morning, Mrs. Mitchell.” I waved.
I pretty much knew all the locals in town. I’d been born and raised here. Windward, Colorado—my hometown—was the best place in the world to live.
Yes, I was a little biased.
Windward was nestled in the Rocky Mountains, a few hours from Denver. I’d grown up skiing in the winter, hiking in the summer, and loving the heck out of every season. I’d ventured to Denver for college, but I always knew I’d come back. Windward never felt too small. With exceptional skiing and scenery, excellent resorts and restaurants, not to mention some fabulous shopping, we had tourists from all over the globe visit. It was like the whole world came to us.
Best of all, I got to manage the best hotel in town—the Windward Mountain Resort. I thrived on making sure things ran perfectly and my guests had a memorable visit. Then, after work, I could leave the fancy center of town for the eastern side of Windward that the locals called home. The hotels and high-end condos gave way to cute, little houses. I could kick off my heels and snuggle up in my little cottage and putter around my garden.
Okay, I honestly didn’t get much time to putter, but I didn’t mind.
“Heya, Tessa.”
I waved. “Hi, Mr. Schmidt.” The local baker was making his rounds to the cafés, delivering his baked goods. He’d been doing it since I was a kid, and his honey cakes were the best this side of the Rockies.
The need for caffeine turned urgent. I eyed the nasty scratch on my arm. It sullenly oozed blood.Thanks a lot, Simba. I deserved a latte. I’d earned it. I could grab a coffee at work, but it wasn’t as good as the magic from Mountain Brew.
Plus, when I got to work, I’d be inundated. My brain turned to the never-ending list of last-minute details for the charity ball tomorrow night. Every year, the resort hosted the Mountain Masquerade. Lots of guests came in from Denver, dressed up and put on a mask, and helped us raise a bunch of money for the Windward Valley Children’s Charity. The charity was near and dear to my heart. It supported everything from local kids’ sporting and arts groups, to subsidizing college for disadvantaged kids, and to helping orphaned and foster-care kids stay clothed and fed.
A grant from the WVCC had helped Emily and me when we’d needed it most. Without it, I’d probably have ended up in the foster system.
Every year, I ensured the Mountain Masquerade went off without a hitch.
I also had emails I needed to deal with. My stomach did an unhappy lurch. Yes, Windward Resort’s newest owner was a workaholic dictator. He fired off a gazillion emails a day. I wondered if Langston would allow us to do the Mountain Masquerade in the future. At that thought, my stomach decided a lurch wasn’t enough and tried for a knot.
“Just worry that all your staff still have jobs first, Tessa.” I took the next corner. The coffee shop was nestled in some buildings with a vague chalet-style look to them. There were already several people inside.
As I opened the door, a bell hanging from the frame above tinkled. The barista spotted me and smiled. “Hazelnut latte? Extra shot?”
I moaned. “Make it two extra shots and I’ll have your babies.”
Charlotte laughed. “I think I’m good, and that would be a little tricky since we’re both women. Besides, don’t you have a resort to run?”
“Oh, yeah.” I leaned against the counter and breathed in the scent of coffee.
“You must be busy now that the resort has joined the Langston Hotels group.” Charlotte pressed a hand to her chest. “I can’t believe we have a Langston Hotel here in Windward.”
A sour taste filled my mouth. I pasted on a smile. “It’s still the Windward Mountain Resort. The same old resort with the same old charm.”
“I know, but they’ll modernize, right? Soon, you’ll have even more rich and famous people coming to stay.”
