Page 22 of One Last Shot

“Sunday is closing day. No way I’m missing the last day of skiing this year.” In fact, this trip really put a damper on my end of season spring skiing. Normally I hit the mountain every weekday, when it’s least crowded, for at least a few runs. Not to mention that now I’ll only get one day with Jackson before she and Nate leave Park City to head home.

“You booked your own flight?” Morgan sounds hurt, like I’ve taken away some of her job responsibilities for no reason.

“When I canceled my last one, yes.”

“Okay, I’m going to start making these calls,” she tells me. “I’ll put any appointments on your calendar, and I’ll get you transportation for each one. All details will be in the calendar invites.”

“Thanks, Morgan. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had.”

“I’m the only assistant you’ve ever had.”

“Same difference. Talk soon.” I disconnect the video call and take my earbuds out.

“So, you’re a skier?” I hear from the table next to me. I glance over at the blond guy sitting there with his laptop in front of him. He’s in a lightweight, tailored blue wool suit, his hair styled and his face clean shaven. That face exudes charm, and his Patek Philippe watch exudes wealth.

“So, you’re an eavesdropper?” I rest my elbows on the table as I turn my head fully toward him.

“Touché. But you have the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. I couldn’t exactly tune you out.”

“Fair.” Honestly, I’d much rather him comment on my voice—which is low and raspy for no reason other than that’s how it developed—than on my face or body, which is what everyone seems to notice about me first. “Yes, I’m a skier. You?”

“I have a place in Vermont, I try to get away as often as I can during the winter. Where do you ski?”

“Park City.”

“Is that where you grew up?”

“No,” I give him a smile, but don’t offer any more details.

“Are you going to make me guess?” he asks, leaning toward me and resting his elbow on his table, mimicking my position.

“You’ll never guess, and I don’t have all day to wait while you try.” I reach up and shut my laptop without taking my eyes off him.

“Because you have plans?”

I give him the smile I reserve for guys I’m flirting with. “Because I have a life.”

“Does that life include having a drink with me tonight?” His voice is smooth and deep, like a caress. This is exactly my type of guy—persistent without being pushy. I can tell he’s looking for one thing, the same thing I’m looking for when I hit on a guy: intense, short-term attraction.

“I have dinner plans tonight.”

“So do I,” he says. “Drinks after dinner would be the perfect way to end the day, don’t you think?”

Oh, I do. But I don’t know how long tonight’s dinner will last or if Sasha will need me once his sister-in-law is gone. “That does sound lovely, but I’m not sure how long my dinner will last.”

“Why don’t I give you my number and if you’re free after dinner, send me a text.”

“Okay,” I agree.

“Where are you staying?” he asks as he types his name and number into my phone.

“Upper East Side.”

“Perfect, that’s where I live. I have a great bar in mind.” He hands me back my phone. “Are you going to at least tell me your name, so I know who you are when you call?”

“You won’t recognize me by my voice?” I tease.

“I will,” he says, “but I’d still like to know your name.”

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