Page 93 of Ice To Meet You

32

MATTEO

Istood on the edge of the tarmac. The bright paint of the helipad made my head ache. I didn’t have a hangover—I had a heart-over. I pulled my waterproof case out of my jacket and checked my phone.

My gut twisted. Nothing. No word from Esmé. Not that I’d checked my phone constantly for the last twelve hours, but Antonio had asked if I’d developed OCD overnight.

I closed my eyes tight, resting my hands on my hips. Where was she, and what was she thinking? Was she curled up in bed with Claudette or sitting at her kitchen bench regretting ever getting involved with me?

Though last night didn’t feel like a final goodbye, I’d fought a battle with my fingers all night. A skirmish of self-preservation. When I left the gallery, I’d left the ball in her court, but I didn’t like my odds.

Antonio clapped me on the back, shouting in my ear to be heard over the engines of the helicopters. “You go up with the first group. I’ll take the second. Everything is ready at the lodge.” A grin cracked his face. “We made it, man.”

I nodded back, forcing a smile. But I couldn’t focus.

The memory of Esmé standing in her gallery, her whole exhibition crumbling around her, was forever branded into my brain. Her wide eyes and frown were entirely my doing. If I’d never agreed to work atGalerie du Reve,I’d never have fallen for her, and I’d never have taken her zip lining, putting everything she’d worked for in jeopardy.

I sucked in a breath. There, I’d said what I’d known for days. I’d fallen for Esmé—hard and fast—but the suspicion she didn’t feel the same burned deep in my chest.

“Hello? Matteo?” Antonio shouted, waving a gloved hand in front of my face. “Wake up.”

I shook my head to dislodge the picture of Esmé. “Sorry,” I shouted back, giving him a thumbs up.

“It’s a big group,” he said. “You take the crazier customers; I’ll take the rest.” I looked at the group of skiers standing by the nearest helicopter. They buzzed with excitement I didn't feel. I had no option but to put on an act. It was time to bring “MattitudeX” to the party.

Today was our first intake of guests. They’d paid a lot of money to have a good time. To chase powder snow and catch a thrill. And my name and reputation had brought a lot of them.

I held out my gloved hand. Antonio met my gesture with a solid high-five. “Okay man, let’s do this.”

Antonio headed to the second chopper. They’d leave to go up the mountain a few minutes behind us; give us a chance to get onto the run and get ready before whipping up any powder. I bent down to give my gear a last check.

We had a small team in charge of those details, but I always used my lucky helmet. My lips bowed. I may have added a Pikachu sticker to the inside, just above the chin strap. I’d found it in a shop the day I bought Claudette’s bed.

The noise of the engine picked up in volume. The pilotmust be making his final checks. I closed my eyes one final time, banishing the image of Esmé that’d checked permanently into my brain. I had to get eight people down a mountain safely. I couldn’t get distracted.

A hand clapped my back, and I turned to see one of our guides. She shouted something, waving her arms, but I couldn’t make out her words—the balaclava she wore under her ski helmet muffled her voice. I shook my head and shrugged. Her eyes crinkled in amusement before she pointed over her shoulder toward the airport building.

I turned back to see a single figure standing absolutely still amongst the activity. She turned, her thick braids swinging around her shoulders. My breath skittered. Esmé?

She wore a puffy white jacket, jeans and boots, and had a pink woolly hat pulled down over her ears. Her cheeks were flushed, and she clapped her gloveless hands as she moved from foot to foot.

The second my brain caught up with my eyes, I moved. “I’ll be right back,” I shouted to one of the guides before racing to Esmé.

When she saw me, her eyes filled with the glow I’d craved all night.

“What are you doing here?” I looked at my watch. “You should be at the gallery.”

I ran my hands over her arms, checking to make sure she was real.

“I had to come and tell you. Your grandfather visited me. He’s still going to invest. And … he knows about us. But he didn’t disown you, or threaten to run me out of town, so I’m calling it a win.”

I shook my head, then smirked … smiled … and finally grinned. My heart brimmed with an indescribable energy. A strand of hair whipped around Esmé’s face from the rotor wind, and I pushed it away with my thumb. “I’d say the whole of the Paris art world knows about us after last night. But I assume the fact that you’re here in one piece means he’s okay with the situation?”

She nodded, and a wave of relief loosened the tightness in my chest.

I slid a hand up her back and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Does that meanyou’reokay with the situation? I’ve never had doubts, but I think you needed time to catch up.”

“I’ve well and truly caught up,” she said, nodding her head. The little freckles on her nose danced in front of my eyes.

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