Page 51 of Mountain Summons

“He worked with the PGHM,” Tristan said. This wasn’t something he wanted to hide from Lena. “Then she met Amaury. He’s the only father I’ve ever known. He adopted me when I was two years old.”

Lena nodded. “Has he been a good father?”

Tristan shrugged. “He’s always tried his best. We’re just too different.”

“Is that why you joined the PGHM, to honor your biological father?”

He was tempted to say yes, because the truth was a lot more sordid, but he didn’t want to lie to Lena. “Everything I did between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four, I did with one objective only: to piss my parents off. I became a pilot because my father considers flying an unnecessary risk. And then, after Itold him I wouldn’t be joining his company, I joined the PGHM because … because I knew that would remind my mom of my biological father.” He winced. He’d been such an asshole.

Lena’s mouth opened in surprise.

“It was not my finest moment. I never expected to be there longer than a few months.” He sighed. “It turns out it’s something I’m good at. I enjoy my job.”

“And you help people.”

“Sure,” he agreed. “I help people. It’s a happy side-benefit.”

Lena finally closed her mouth. Her eyes on him, she finally—took a sip of champagne. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to scare me off, Tristan,” she said lightly.

Around them, people began gathering as the great Amaury Devallé stood up on the stage and prepared to start his speech. The huge screen behind him lit up in a series of tight, professional shots that took them from the initial concept through to the building of his new piece. Watching the presentation, Tristan learned that Amaury’satelierwould limit production to ten units a year, and that they would be built in a secret location, overseen by the great Amaury himself. Each watch would be delivered, at no additional cost, by two uniformed guards at whichever location the buyer happened to live in.

“Is this for real?” Lena whispered, while the audience clapped. “How much is one of these watches worth?”

“One million Swiss francs, give or take a few thousand.”

Horror filled Lena’s expression. “One million—“ She paused, composing herself. “How can a watch be worth that much?”

Tristan shrugged. “That’s a good questionnotto ask my father … or maybe you should. See what he says.”

Lena closed her mouth, looking furtively around her. She relaxed when she saw nobody was paying any attention to them.

“My father happens to be very good at what he does,” Tristan said lightly.

“I’m sure he is. I just … I can’t understand this, Tristan.” For the first time, she looked uncertain. “I’ll never be able to understand this world.”

“We don’t need to understand it, Lena. I love my parents, but this is their world. Not mine.” In her simple little black dress and ballet slippers, she looked more enticing to him than any of the other women in their fancy evening gowns and jewelry. “Come,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I told my parents we’d join them for dinner, but we have a bit of time until then.”

Lena

Nobody ever mentioned what Cinderella’s first days in the castle were like, once she moved in with the prince.

Did the prince personally show her around the entire castle? Or did he leave her in the capable hands of a trusted attendant to do the honors? If so, Lena imagined the attendant might have looked a lot like the uniformed bellhop who escorted them to their room—efficient, polished, and utterly unfazed by the opulence surrounding them.

The man opened the door with a flourish, stepping back to let them inside. Then, as if someone had pressed fast-forward on a training video, he proceeded to rattle off details in quick succession. The powder room, as he called it, which was basically a separate tiny bathroom at the entrance to the suite. A small touch screen by the wall that controlled lights, temperature, and electronic shades all over the suite. Because, of course, nobody would ever think of doing any of those thingsmanually. A cavernous walk-in closet. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Rhine, its waters glistening in the afternoon light.

He listed each feature with military precision, then snapped to attention as if awaiting questions. None came, from either her or Tristan.

“Your bags will be up shortly,” he finished, with a serious, polite nod.

Tristan escorted him to the door. A small, folded bill changed hands effortlessly, and Lena breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t needed to be the one handling that. She’d have no idea how much to tip in a place like this. She barely even knew how toactin a place like this.

By the time Tristan turned back toward her, he’d already kicked off his shoes, looking utterly at home in the unimaginably luxurious suite.

He stretched his arms overhead, rolling his powerful shoulders. “Phew. I thought he was never going to leave.”

Lena barely heard him. She was still standing in the middle of the suite, eyes sweeping over the sprawling space, the rich hardwood floors, the impossibly high ceilings, the velvet-upholstered seats strewn all over the place.

“Are you sure we’re in the right room?” she asked.

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