Page 61 of On the Edge

“Fine. Get me the paperwork and a pen, then start talking.” There’s no room for argument in my words. I’m not asking. I’m insisting they tell me what’s going on.

But then the guy who I’m guessing must be Nate’s lawyer steps in front of Nate with his back to me, and lifts some paperwork to point something out. Again, his voice is so quiet when he speaks to Nate that I can’t make out his words even in the relative silence of the room. I glance over at Dad, hoping he sees how betrayed I feel right now.

Nate shakes his head, drawing my attention back to him. His nostrils flare and he closes his eyes, taking a fortifying breath. It’s clear he’s conflicted.

Then he opens his eyes, and looks straight at me. His face is begging my forgiveness before he even opens his mouth. “It’s a violation of the contract to add anyone else into this process, NDA or not. I’m so sorry, Jax.”

“Oh, hell, no,” I say, the words rolling off my tongue slowly. “You donotget to go behind my back like this and then turn around and call me Jax.” I’m livid and I’m not even sure what about. I don’t technically have a right to be involved in whatever is going on here. But the fact that my father and my ex-boyfriend are obviously engaged in some sort of deal regarding Blackstone—the only place in the world that really feels like home—and that they both hid it from me, is yet another betrayal. And I’m still not over the first one. Combine that with my interview being cancelled this morning, and I’m obviously looking for a fight. I know it and I still can’t stop myself.

“I’m not going behind your back,” Nate says, shifting his weight back and forth as he runs his palms down his thighs. “I have every intention of explaining this. I just can’t do it yet because of all the fucking legalities.”

I look back and forth between Nate and my dad. “Just once, I’d like you both to be honest with me. Every time you hide something from me, even if you think it’s for my benefit, it just makes things worse.”

I turn and leave so quickly I don’t know if they even respond. Outside, I take the elevated walkway across to the deck of the lodge then scurry down the outdoor stairs, weaving around the ski families in their snow gear. It feels like both yesterday and a lifetime ago that I was in their boots, back when all I wanted in the world was to race. Back then Blackstone was my sanctuary. And until today, I’d hoped it would be again. But now I’ve lost my interview at Danforth, and Nate has his fingers all over some business here at Blackstone. Even though I want to be here for my parents, moving home now feels not only less possible, but less appealing as well.

DECEMBER

CHAPTER17

NATE

Big Sky, Montana

I grab the last picture frame off the shelving next to the wide wooden mantle. This one is harder to wrap up and pack away than the rest. It’s a photo Rory took of us the year Jackson started racing full time on the World Cup circuit, nearly ten years ago. He was always poised somewhere close by with his camera. She’d just earned her first first-place finish, and I’d lifted her up to the crowd, but instead of waving to her fans, she’d wrapped her legs around my waist and gazed down at me, a combination of love and victory etched across her face.

She’d had the photo framed and given it to me on New Year’s Eve—the date we always celebrated our anniversary because New Year’s Eve of our junior year of high school was the first time I’d kissed her. Actually, it was the second time I’d kissed her, but the first time that meant something to both of us, and we’d been together since then—through high school and college and her racing professionally. The note she’d stuck to the frame had said “Always and Forever.” I wish I still had that, but it was lost somewhere over the years.

My phone rings on the table next to me and I glance over, hoping it’s Jackson even though I know it won’t be. I’m starting to wonder why I keep this hope alive at all. We’d made so much progress on our flight back from France. I wasn’t naive enough to think that conversation had solved everything, but I’d exited that plane thinking maybe we could find our way back to each other now that she knew I came back for her—back then, and now.

But it’s been more than two weeks since our run-in at Blackstone, and she’s made it clear she has no interest in furthering the conversations about our relationship until I can be truly and completely honest with her. Which I can’t be because of that fucking NDA. I even went to the board of directors with a proposed amendment to the contract that would allow Jackson to be added to the list of people involved in the acquisition, but the board had been opposed to it. No one was certain that she’d support the plan, and they were afraid I’d withdraw the offer if she didn’t. Even her father agreed she shouldn’t be informed. And I haven’t been able to even tell her that I tried, because even that would have been a violation of the nondisclosure agreement.

“What’s up?” I answer the call.

“You could have told us you were in town,” my videographer Mark yells. I can tell he’s in his truck with his phone on speaker, and by the sound of it there are other people with him.

“Who’s us?”

“I’m with Dan and Luke, and we just heard from one of your neighbors that your truck is parked outside. What the hell?”

“I’m just here packing up some of my stuff. I’m heading to Europe next weekend, and I don’t think I’ll be back here this winter. Sarah is on my ass to rent it out,” I tell them. This cabin has been my home base for the last few years. It’s the only property I own that I don’t rent out, but my property manager, Sarah, has been pushing me to add it to my portfolio of rental properties if I’m not going to use it this season.”

“We’ll be back to get you after we stop at the liquor store,” Mark tells me. “You’re coming out with us tonight.”

“Fine,” I say, because it doesn’t matter whether I agree or not, I know they’ll be back with their beer and expect me to be their designated driver. Keeping my friends safe has pretty much been my job for the past couple years. “But I’m not staying out late tonight. I have to drive back to Park City tomorrow.”

“Whatever, grandpa!” I hear Luke yell over the noise of the road, and they all laugh.

I hang up and place the framed picture of Jackson and me on the pile of packing paper and wrap two pieces around it, but instead of adding it to the box of my personal items that I’m clearing out, I take it into my bedroom and put it on top of my bag so I can bring it back to Park City with me.

* * *

“So, asshole,” Mark says as he walks into my entryway with two six packs in his hands. “We hear you’ve been killing it in your first few races.”

“I’ve done fine. Nothing to brag about.”

The guys all kick off their dirty snow boots and Mark hands me the beer so he can take off his jacket.

“Bullshit,” Dan grumbles. I cock my eyebrow at him, not sure what he means. “You hit the top fifteen in your first race,” he clarifies. Of the three die-hard skiers in my entryway, he’s the only one who’s also raced.

---