Page 36 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

I cleared my throat and pointed to the board. “You can take a turn now. The last one was mine.” I had no idea, really, but I was afraid he’d shut down if we kept talking about this difficult subject.

His face showed relief as he rolled the dice. But then he grimaced, as he’d landed on Go to Jail.

Sensing that he was feeling sensitive, I resisted the urge to gloat. I tried, at least. But I was grinning as he looked at me with narrowed eyes.

“At least I’m safe from your expensive hotels and housing developments.”

“For a turn.”

“Or up to three turns.”

“You should be so lucky.”

I smiled then because, well, playing with him wasfun. I hadn’t had much fun in recent weeks and was glad to be enjoying myself. “If you’re nice to me, I’ll get you out of jail.”

“How? The rules don’t allow for that,” he said, folding his arms on the table.

“Rules, schmules.” I rolled my eyes. “I know how to break them and get away with it. The law degree has to pay off somehow, doesn’t it?”

His eyes widened slightly before scrunching together. “You went to law school?” When I nodded, he asked, “I thought you were a motivational speaker or something?”

“I am. Or I was. I don’t know anymore, actually,” I admitted. “I’m taking a break to figure things out, write a book, and so on.” I shrugged. “My legal career didn’t last long.”

“What happened?”

“I worked for a corporate law firm, and I loathed it. I was thetoken woman, the only person of color—and they made sure I never forgot it. Not like I ever could anyway. But aside from that, the ethics of it all, the blatant racism and sexism, the stifling expectations … I just couldn’t do it anymore. I only lasted two years.”

“Hmm,” he said as he rolled doubles and then grimaced since he’d have to move out of jail and risk landing on my hotels. “You said you’re going through a career shift now too?”

I was surprised at his sudden interest, but it was nice having someone to talk to. “I am. I’m tired of flying all over the country, sometimes outside the country, to meet and try to connect with people I’ll likely never see again. I mean, it’s great in many ways. I’m privileged to have done this for several years.But I’m just … tired. I want to stay in one place. For the first time in my life, I want to just be still.”

I hadn’t planned to say all that. And from the look on his face, he surely hadn’t expected it either. But his tone was gentle as he replied, “For the first time in your life? Does that mean you’ve always traveled a lot?”

Sighing loudly, I looked down at the board, forgetting whose turn it was, and then returned my gaze to him. “I’ve travel extensively, yes, but I’ve alsolivedall over. My parents moved around when I was young, and then they split, so now I have to travel all over the world just to see them. And my sister.” His expression was so focused on me that I felt bare, somehow. “We all live in different countries now, but Halley and I grew up in the States. Well, she ended up moving—it’s a long story. Suffice it to say I’m not interested in the jet-setting life anymore. I want to settle. Finally, just settle somewhere. And who knows, maybe I’ll hate it.”

He nodded. “Maybe you will. But you have to try.”

“Yes,” I said. “You get it. Did you—was your childhood at all similar, or no?”

A shadow passed over his face, and his eyes darted down to the game board and then to the play money in front of him, which he proceeded to count. “I have $127, Hazel. You win. Let’s be done.”

I blinked rapidly and swallowed with real effort. He hadn’t used that harsh tone all day. So we were back to that then? “I—OK, sure. Um, I’ll clean up.”

“No, I’ll do it. You can go and …” He trailed off as we both realized I had nothing else to do. But sensing his mood, I backed away and turned to stride over to a bookcase on the opposite side of the room. Here was the only shelf of contemporary fiction; everything else was old.

As I ran my fingers lightly over the spines, I wondered if he’d bought them himself or received them as gifts. I’d already looked over every shelf several times in the past few days, but I never got tired of perusing his impressive collection.

My fingers stalled. Jane Austen’sNorthanger Abbeywas right there, next to Elizabeth Gaskell’sNorth & South. My lips curved into an excited smile before morphing into a frown.

I hadn’t noticed the Austen book when I’d scanned these shelves before, and it would’ve caught my eye, as I was a major fan of her work—though the gothic-inspiredNorthanger Abbeywasn’t my favorite. With a crease in my brows, I touched the spine reverently and shook my head. The book couldn’t have been on the shelf before, as I would’ve surely noticed it. Had Peter been reading it? That seemed highly unlikely.

Was this place haunted, like the abbey in the book?

I laughed at the silliness and then froze as my hair stood on end. Something or someone was behind me, close. I slowly turned my head.

I screamed. It was closer than I thought.

It was onlyPeter. Not a ghost.

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