Suddenly Last Summer

“It would be majorly embarrassing.”

“If it was something you both agreed to, why would it be embarrassing? You just say bonjour and smile or if the sex was really bad I suppose you might just smile a little less. Be a little cooler so that they don’t think you want to do it again.”

Brenna gave her a look of exasperation. “Are all French people like you?”

“Je ne sais pas. Kayla asked me the same question yesterday. I don’t know all French people, only a few. But I don’t understand why sex between consenting adults is something to feel embarrassed about. It is certainly not a reason to die.”

“So you don’t feel embarrassed when you see Sean? It isn’t at all uncomfortable? You don’t look at him and think shit I wish I hadn’t done that?”

“No, I look at him and think Élise, this guy is super hot and you have impeccable taste in men. It was great sex and why would I ever regret great sex?”

“So why not do it again?”

“My rule is one night.”

“I had a rule of never having a relationship with someone at work.” Kayla sent another email. “Look at me now.”

“That doesn’t count.” Brenna flipped open the cap on her water bottle. “Technically speaking, you didn’t work for Jackson.”

“He was a client,” Kayla said dryly. “I think that’s probably worse. Shame Brett didn’t just fire me for gross misconduct. Then I wouldn’t have spent the last six months commuting backward and forward between New York and Snow Crystal.”

“You could have left sooner.”

“Yes, but we were in the middle of projects and I have too much pride in my work to abandon them.”

“You mean you are a control freak.”

“That, too.” Kayla shrugged. “Hey, I admit it. And talking of control freaks, I need your plans for the winter program, Bren, so I can work up some promotional ideas.”

“Sure. While Sean is home I’m going to pin him down and talk him into helping me design a pre-season conditioning program of strength training for the winter. He’s an expert in sports medicine. I thought we’d offer a short program for the guests and also advice on avoiding ski injuries. Sean has a good reputation. He’s a skier as well as a surgeon so he has a lot of respect around here.”

“Better be quick about it.” Kayla finally slipped her phone into her pocket. “I doubt he’ll hang around for long.”

“Maybe he’ll stay because Élise is here,” Brenna suggested.

“The principle behind one night is that it’s just one night.” Why did they have such trouble understanding that? “I cannot make this any plainer. The only reason I would want him to stay is for Walter.”

But Walter had told him to go. Why? Was it pride? Was he worried about Sean’s job? His stress levels?

“One night doesn’t sound very romantic. You never want to fall in love and get married? What?” Brenna spread her hands as they both stared at her. “So I admit I’m a little old-fashioned. I believe in relationships and happy-ever-afters and maybe it’s not cool to admit it, but I want all that one day. The whole package. I know there’s a man out there for me somewhere. I just need time to leave this place so I can find him.”

Élise suspected the right man might be closer than Brenna thought.

Kayla glanced at her and then shrugged, clearly thinking there was no point in broaching a subject Brenna refused to touch. “Give up, Bren. Does Élise really strike you as the nesting type?”

Élise slid her headphones into her ears. “Let’s run.”

They had no idea.

Once, she’d wanted all those things. She’d dreamed of family and a love like the one Walter and Alice shared. A love that would last decades and weather the hailstones that life hurled down from time to time. She’d dreamed of all that and more, but then she’d learned that dreams could be dangerous and love was the most dangerous emotion of all.

It could destroy a person. Break them into pieces.

She ran hard and fast, using exercise to clear her head, overtaking even Brenna and arriving back first to the Boathouse.

She unlocked the door and opened up the glass front, allowing in light and air, feeling a rush of excitement as she saw the newly painted interior and the floor. Framed photographs of Snow Crystal taken in all four seasons hung on the walls. She’d chosen everything, from the chairs to the china and she was thrilled with the result.

It was going to be a success, she knew it.

The Inn at Snow Crystal, the main restaurant, was perfect for people looking for elegant fine dining. It was for special occasions—birthdays, anniversaries, the celebration of a vacation, but not everyone could afford that, or wanted that. Sometimes all people wanted was to enjoy a relaxed meal with their family with a view of the water. They wanted to enjoy fresh, simple food that wouldn’t blow the holiday budget.

Élise had been experimenting with dishes for months. The Boathouse would serve fresh, seasonal food either on the pretty, sun-baked deck or indoors while summer rain drenched the roof. She’d worked hard on the children’s menu, developing recipes that were varied, appealing and nutritious. There would be something for everyone.

She’d overseen everything from kitchen design to the subtle outdoor lighting that would add a little romance for couples wanting to savor a special evening dining alfresco.

Breakfast by the water would be a highlight. There would be fluffy pancakes, both American and French crêpes, served with their own maple syrup. She’d perfected a homemade granola recipe and she intended to offer it with fresh blueberries and compote made from fruits picked from the orchard. She’d even considered making her own Snow Crystal apple juice.

For those who rose later in the day there would be a range of coffee options with freshly baked pastries. Lunch and dinner would be a bistro menu, with food from the grill. Casual, but still top-quality. All her food was purchased from local suppliers and she spent a part of every week visiting farmers and working to build long-term relationships with the local agricultural community. Seasonal and sustainable were the two words she drummed into the people who worked for her.

Everything was perfect, except the fact that they wouldn’t open on time.

Brenna ran across the deck without pausing. “See you later.”

Kayla arrived two minutes later, panting for breath. “You two are going to kill me. If I don’t die on the way home, I’ll email you that list and we can start making those calls to cancel the party.”

Left alone with that dispiriting thought, Élise made coffee for herself but even her new coffee machine couldn’t cheer her up. She ground the beans fresh, tamped the coffee and then timed the pour, taking comfort from the familiarity of the routine. Unfortunately it didn’t take her mind off the fact that she’d failed Jackson. Nor did it take her mind off Sean.

It was a good job her friends hadn’t chosen to go for a late-night run or they might have witnessed more than the flight of an owl.

And no doubt they would have read things into it that weren’t there.

People did that, didn’t they? To most people a kiss was never just a kiss, but always the prelude to something more.

Not for her.

Never for her.

With the sun shining and the aroma of fresh coffee rising from the cup, she started to relax.

She’d make the calls. Get it done.

There really wasn’t a problem.

She’d reached the point of almost believing that when she turned her head and saw Sean standing on her almost finished deck.

HE’D BEEN WATCHING her for a full minute, standing in the quiet of the morning, breathing in the scent of lake and forest, tinged with the tantalizing aroma of freshly ground coffee.

After the fright he’d given her the night before he’d intended to make his presence known, but he’d been distracted first by the length of her legs in running shorts and then by his first proper look at the project he’d viewed in the dark the previous evening.