Secret Crush of a Chalet Girl:

He’s just being nice, that’s all.

“Those books are a bit unrealistic,” Lucy said, now perched on a bar stool and sipping at the cocktail Luc had put in front of her. She was so petite she looked like a tiny, fierce bird but her no-nonsense, matter-of-fact manner made you underestimate her at your peril.

“But if you want real life you just have to open your eyes. Books are so much more than that, they take you into different worlds, they open up your mind.” Sophie slipped her Kindle into her bag and firmly tugged the zip closed before Tash could think about taking it and reading aloud from it again. She didn’t feel she’d made her case properly and it frustrated her.

“If they make you believe in Prince Charming, aren’t you going to be disappointed when the belching Mr. Average leaves his socks on the bathroom floor?” Amelia asked.

Great, three against one.

“I’m not expecting Prince Charming,” she faltered.

Just Mr.-Right-For-Me.

Tash snorted. “You could’ve fooled me. When was the last time you had sex? Who exactly are you holding out for? I hate to disappoint you but I think Prince Harry is taken; he looked pretty loved-up last time he was in Verbier.”

Lucy choked on her drink, clearly still not used to Tash’s forthrightness, even though they were nearly ten weeks into the season.

Sophie narrowed her eyes at Tash, refusing to answer, horribly aware of Luc, still in earshot. Not that he had any reason to be interested in their conversation, but…

“It’s been a while, girl,” Tash continued, in her usual blunt manner.

Sophie sighed. It was much easier to humour Tash than argue with her. And the quicker the better. It was the only way to shut her up.

“Okay, yes, it’s been a while,” she admitted quietly.

“We could go off to the Hotel Royale’s hot tub if you’re looking for some action,” Tash suggested.

“I might as well hang a sign over my head saying I’m desperate. Which I’ll have you know I’m not.” Sophie’s eyes flickered involuntarily over to Luc, but he stood with his back to them, taking a bottle down from the shelf, no indication he was listening.

And why would he be?

She wasn’t interested in the kind of casual sex Tash was talking about. She’d been there and done that and had got a whole lot more than a T-shirt for her trouble.

Next time it needs to mean something. It has to…

“I’d be desperate if I hadn’t had sex for a year,” Amelia said, grinning.

“It’s going well with Matt then, if that smile is anything to go by?” Tash asked.

“Great thanks, he’s coming out for Valentine’s Day, for the whole weekend in fact.” The wattage of Amelia’s smile increased until she was beaming.

“Aw, sweet,” Tash replied.

Sophie thought she saw a flash of something like envy in Tash’s cat-like eyes but it quickly disappeared to be replaced by a dark screen.

When Tash headed off for the loos Sophie followed her.

“Are you okay?” Sophie asked while they washed their hands together in the strange trough-like basin running the length of the washroom.

“Of course.” Tash’s expression remained neutral.

“Don’t you want to find your prince Tash?” Sophie asked softly.

“I think … I think mine got lost somewhere, I’m not holding my breath.” Tash shrugged. “And neither should you. You need to get out there, have fun and stop thinking about romance, stop reading romance novels. They’re giving you false expectations. All it will get you is disappointment.”

“Maybe.” Sophie conceded, purely to shut Tash up. Whatever Tash said Sophie would still hold out for something extraordinary. After what she’d been through she needed something special, someone who thought her special. And if she never found him, well she’d just have to remain single.

Better no relationship than a bad relationship.

She slipped back onto her cow-hide bar stool wondering whether to head back to Chalet Repos. But if she did, one of the guest’s children would be bound to be having a don’t-want-to-go-to-bed tantrum and she’d have to smile and pretend it was okay as she cleared up the latest mess they’d created, even though she wasn’t technically on duty.

As a veteran chalet girl she knew you had to make yourself scarce during your free time or you’d fall prey to the “would you mind just’s” and “if you’ve got a sec’s”.

“So, who’s doing the Valentine’s day Speed Ski Dating event?” Lucy asked.

“Yes, I’ll be there. It was a laugh last year,” Tash said loudly, drinking her cocktail as fast as if it were orange squash.

“I won’t be going, because Matt will be out here. We’re going to be busy and it’s not as though I’m single anymore.” Amelia turned to Sophie. “How about you?”

Sophie considered. She’d never met anyone yet in all the years she’d been coming to Verbier for the winter season. But what else was there for her to do? Hang around at the chalet being lumbered with extra child-care duties, feeling sorry for herself as she cleaned chocolate fingerprints off the windows.

“I suppose.” Sophie grimaced. “Being single on Valentine’s Day isn’t much fun and I’ve got nothing better to do. I’m just not too sure you can make love happen by throwing a bunch people together and hoping they’ll pair off.”

“It is a bit random but you might meet someone.” Amelia shrugged. “It happens.”

Sophie was glad for Amelia, really she was, but there was a certain smugness about her smile that irritated her.

God, I’m being a bitch tonight.

Sophie picked up her drink, hoping it would help improve her mood and make her a little nicer.

“She’s right you know, it might happen.” Tash poked Sophie in the ribs. “Especially if you look for Mr. Now rather than Mr. Forever. You’ve got to lower your sights, Soph, have some fun.”

“Hmm,” Sophie replied noncommittally, draining her cocktail. Then she looked up, catching Luc’s sympathetic grey eyes, and a fresh flush crept up the back of her neck.

“Do a lot of people go?” Lucy asked.

“You get a good crowd.” Tash put her empty glass down on the bar. “Come on. Let’s go to The Lodge and find some nice men to buy us drinks. I’m skint.”

Sophie groaned inwardly. She hated cadging drinks, feeling obligated. Even worse she hated feeling like a piece of meat at a cattle market. What was the point of going to a hook-up bar when she didn’t want a one-night stand?

I’m twenty-five, am I getting too old for this?

She enjoyed skiing and loved Switzerland. She felt truly happy in the mountains, enjoying the sun, snow and crisp Alpine air. It had always worked out perfectly for her, given Uncle Frank’s café in the Lake District closed for the winter. Being a seasonaire suited her; that hadn’t changed. But something else had.

Maybe she could slink back to the dorm room without anyone noticing and put her headphones on to drown out any tantrum noises. If the other three were out for the evening it would give her some quiet time to read. Without interruptions.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, I’m going back to the chalet,” she said, sliding off her stool and grabbing her bag.