Page 65 of Stranded with the Resort Owner

"And suddenly that's unclear?" Her eyebrows lift skeptically. "After years of single-minded focus on reaching the top of the industry?"

The question deserves honest consideration. I take a moment before answering, finding clarity even as I speak.

"What if reaching the top looks different than I imagined? What if there's a way to achieve success that includes personal fulfillment?"

"Personal fulfillment." She repeats the words as if they're in a foreign language. "Amelia, this business isn't compatible with sentimentality. You've always understood that."

"I'm not being sentimental." I gesture toward the window, toward the resort beyond. "I'm being strategic. There are opportunities here I hadn't considered."

"I need an answer by this evening. The board expects confirmation of your acceptance so they can announce the appointment at next week's shareholders meeting." Miranda studies me calculatingly.

"You'll have my decision." I match her professional tone, refusing to be rushed despite the pressure.

After she leaves, I return to packing with less certainty than before. My phone buzzes with a text from Lucas: Coffee in the dining room when you're ready. No rush.

The casual message belies the weight of decisions hanging between us. We haven't spoken privately since our conversation after the reception, both swept up in the final wedding responsibilities and guest departures.

The dining room is nearly empty when I arrive. Most wedding guests have already departed. Lucas sits at a corner table with two steaming mugs, looking up with a smile that does unreasonable things to my pulse.

"Successful wedding." He pushes a cup toward me as I sit across from him. "The Mortons couldn't stop raving."

"Everything came together perfectly." I warm my hands around the mug, studying him over the rim. He looks tired but satisfied, the same way I feel—the particular exhaustion that follows a job well done.

"Charlene and Jason stopped by my office before leaving." He leans back in his chair, the morning light accentuating the strong lines of his jaw. "They want to book their first-anniversary celebration here. Said the resort felt magical."

Pride warms me, both professionally and personally. "We did create something special."

"We did." His gaze holds mine, the simple agreement laden with meaning beyond the wedding's success.

The moment stretches between us, filled with everything yet unspoken. Finally, I break the silence. "Miranda wants my answer about Paris by this evening."

Something flickers across his expression—perhaps resignation or carefully controlled disappointment. "And have you decided?"

"I'm still weighing options." I trace the rim of my mug, organizing my thoughts. "It's the opportunity I've worked toward for years."

"But?" He prompts gently when I don't continue.

"But I'm not the same person who set those goals." The admission comes easier than expected. "These past days have shown me different possibilities, different definitions of success."

Hope brightens his eyes before he carefully masks it. "Whatever you decide, I want you to know that what happened here—between us—it wasn't just circumstance or isolation."

The simple honesty in his voice settles something restless inside me. Before I can respond, his phone buzzes with a message that draws his attention away.

"The photography team just delivered the wedding portfolio." He glances up apologetically. "I need to review it before sending to the Mortons. Would you like to join me?"

We relocate to his office, a surprisingly cozy space with large windows overlooking the mountains and comfortable leather furniture that invites lingering rather than efficiency. His large monitor displays the wedding photos, a visual record of our collaborative creation.

The images are stunning—Charlene radiant beneath the glass dome, surrounded by flowers and light; guests mingling in the transformed Mountainview Room; details of table settingsand food presentations captured artistically. Each photo reveals layers of thought and care, the successful marriage of my planning and Lucas's venue.

"These are exceptional." I lean closer to the screen, professional satisfaction mingling with personal pride. "The atrium especially photographs like a dream."

"It could be the cornerstone of a dedicated wedding program." Lucas flips to another series of images. "We've never marketed specifically for weddings before, but after this success..."

His casual observation triggers something in my mind—a cascade of possibilities unfolding like dominoes. The resort's unique features. The relatively untapped market for luxury mountain weddings. The perfect marriage of his venue and my expertise.

"You could become the premier wedding destination in the region." The idea gains momentum as I speak it aloud. "The atrium alone offers something no other venue can match."

"You're seeing something." Lucas watches me intensely as I pace his office, thoughts crystallizing into vision.

---