"On clear days, I could see Fate Mountain from my apartment.” He took another bite, the flavors grounding him in the moment. "But now I’m in Fate Mountain. And Fate Mountain has you, and something Portland never did."
"What's that?"
"A small-town community."
Joy's expression softened. "That's what I love about it too. Though it has its drawbacks. Everyone knows everyone's business." A smile tugged at her lips. “In fact, I have some extremely embarrassing stories about your colleagues.”
She covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing. "When Gabriel was ten, he tried to arrest the mailman for suspicious behavior. He’d put toy handcuffs on everyone at family dinners. Poor Dad couldn't eat without his nephew trying to read him his rights for six months."
"At least he grew out of it," Andre said, savoring a forkful of wild mushrooms. Their earthy flavor paired perfectly with the elk.
"Eventually. But then Valeria decided to rehabilitate a raccoon she found." Joy shook her head at the memory, pausing to sip her wine. "Named him Bandit. He lived up to it by stealing Uncle Heath's lunch every single day for a week."
Andre countered with his sister's chemistry set disaster between bites of the incredible meal. How she'd nearly burned down the garage trying to create 'rainbow fire.'
"Would you care for dessert?" Robert asked as he cleared their plates.
"What do you recommend?" Joy asked, her hand finding Andre's across the table.
"Our pastry chef makes an exceptional lavender honey crème brûlée."
"That sounds perfect," Andre said.
“Let’s share,” Joy said, patting her stomach.
The dessert arrived with two spoons. Robert torched the sugar topping table-side, the caramelization crackling in the quiet dining room. The first crack of Joy's spoon through the glassy surface made Andre smile.
"Oh," she breathed after the first taste. "That's incredible."
The custard was silky, the lavender subtle, the honey adding depth without overwhelming sweetness. They traded bites, knees touching under the table, until the ramekin was scraped clean.
Robert appeared as they set down their spoons, his timing impeccable. "I trust everything was to your satisfaction?"
"Beyond satisfaction," Andre said, meaning it. The entire meal had been perfect—from the bisque to this final sweet note.
"Excellent. Everything has been taken care of as part of your lodge package." Robert smiled warmly. "Is there anything else I can bring you this evening?"
Andre glanced at Joy, who shook her head slightly. "Just our compliments to the chef."
"I'll be sure to pass those along." Robert inclined his head. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."
As Robert moved to clear their dessert dishes, Andre slipped several bills from his wallet and tucked them beneath the base of his wine glass.
"Want to walk through the atrium?" Joy suggested as they left the restaurant, her hand warm in his. "I love all the tropical plants."
They walked across the lobby and entered the lodge’s famous atrium. Glass soared overhead, the geometric panes catching the moonlight and casting it in fractured patterns across the stone path below. The air hung thick and sweet with the scent of jasmine and plumeria, so different from the crisp pine outside.
A waterfall cascaded down the far wall, its constant murmur mixing with the calls of parrots overhead. Andre caught flashes of brilliant color—scarlet and azure and emerald—as the birds moved between towering palms and bird of paradise plants. Their raucous cries echoed in the enclosed space.
The path wound between massive ferns that brushed their shoulders with fronds as wide as dinner plates. Orchids clung to rock walls, their blooms impossibly delicate in whites and purples. Steam rose from hidden misters, creating pockets of fog that swirled around their ankles.
Joy's fingers tightened in his as she led him deeper into the manufactured jungle. The main path branched into smaller trails, each turn revealing new wonders. A banana tree heavy with green fruit. A pond where koi swam in lazy circles, their scales glinting gold and white in the underwater lights.
They found a bench tucked among the foliage, hidden from the main path by a screen of bamboo and elephant ears. The seat was made from a single slab of teak, polished smooth by countless other guests. Moss grew in the cracks between the flagstones at their feet, soft and impossibly green.
Andre was about to pull Joy closer when movement caught his eye. Through the screen of plants, he spotted a familiar figure pacing near the fountain. Ryan Holbrook held a phone pressed to his ear, his free hand gesturing sharply.
Andre's hand found Joy's, squeezing gently for silence. She followed his gaze, her body tensing as she recognized the man from the market. They sat frozen, barely breathing.
