Page 17 of Fresh Tracks
I just don’t want anyone to know that much detail about my business. Outside of Jake, no one knows what I actually have.
Thanks to his brains and very pricey Stanford law degree — which might be the greatest investment I've ever made — we've built layers and layers of trusts, corporations, and other entities.All of it was done to help maintain my anonymity in the business world.
He spreads the contents of the folder across the makeshift, sawhorse work table. He looks up, then back at the papers.
I squint and raise an eyebrow at him. “You know I’m not going to read this shit, right?”
He shrugs. “I know, but don't say I didn’t offer.”
I step forward and stand beside him, looking at the mess of statements, tax forms, reports, and god knows what else. “We’re two days into January. Isn’t it a bit early to start this?”
“Wow. It’s only taken you a decade to catch on,” he teases.
I glare back at him, but he's right. I’ve been successful, not because I’m great at numbers or tax law, but because I’ve surrounded myself with good people. People that I trust, mainly Jake, but also people like the Sterlings and the Chapmans. The rest has been a combination of good timing and having a feel for my hometown, but also a whole lot of luck.
“So what'd you want to show me?”
“Well, we're still waiting on a few things to come in, but it's no surprise, yet again, that you had another record year.”
“Wehad another record year,” I correct him. He’s just as much a part of this as me, even if he likes to deny it.
“Right.” He nods and smiles softly at me before tilting his head toward a paper with a few colorful charts on the table. “That summary would show you that, if you want to look, for once.”
“Can we cut to the chase?” A smile crosses my face when I look back up at him. “You know she’s making him wait to eat until we get there.”
His shoulders rise and fall with a laugh. “That’s pretty much it. I did increase your charitable donations for last year. Partly because your ass can afford it and I know you like giving.Partly to offset more of your gains. We should do even more this year though.”
“Great. Sounds good to me. Did you just give more to the same places?” Part of staying anonymous is also being hands off. This is where I let Jake have a lot of free rein. I trust him to pick the right causes to give to, but even he’s limited in how involved he can be with how much time the real estate and other investments take. Maybe I was on to something trying to hire Grace to help with this. It would be great to have someone more focused on just this aspect.
“Mostly. Picked a few new ones, cut back on some of the older ones. We can always pick some new places to give to this year. Figured we share the wealth a bit. Well, I guessyourwealth.” He tosses me a smart-ass wink.
“Cool. Well if that’s it, let’s get going. I’m starving.” I pat him on the back and turn toward the door.
I’ve got a long twenty-four hours ahead of me, and as much as I love seeing Jake and my former foster family, I can’t wait to get back to Jackson. Normally, I don’t care which one of my places I’m staying at — whether it’s here in my hometown, out on the river in Bend, or down in Jackson — I feel comfortable in all of them.
But lately, Jackson’s felt more and more like home. Maybe it’s because I’m finally putting down roots there. I’ll admit that making friends with Tanner and Sutton has been nice. Or maybe it’s because a certain tall, energetic woman is there.
Even though I haven’t seenherthe last two weeks, I’ve seen her van around, and I just can't shake her from my mind. Everywhere I go in town, I find myself hoping I’ll bump into her or even just get a glimpse of her.
CHAPTER 7
GRACE
FRISKY FOX
While The Chairliftmight be my family's favorite local bar in town, Frisky Fox is a legend. Located right at the base of the ski resort, it's the perfect après ski bar. Old wood paneled interior, random knickknacks and trinkets line the walls, and a giant stuffed moose hanging from the ceiling. All of it is just the right mix of cheesy tourist photo op and original 1960s ski resort vibes. I wasn't surprised this was the first place Josie wanted to visit when she got to town earlier today.
“Oh my god.” She throws her head back and practically moans. “I’ve been craving a Frisky Fox spicy marg so bad.”
I shake my head and laugh. “When was the last time you were here?”
Ever since we met, she’s been my partner in crime. We always seem to get up to something, and judging by the look in her eyes, I have a feeling she’s thinking the same thing.
“Probably last April when we came up for Jackson's closing day,” she says, twirling a short lock of hair in her fingers. “Glad to see Agnes is still here.”
Agnes is the moose that’s always spotted around the ski resortvillage, snacking on shrubs with one of her calves. Tonight she was in her usual spot when we came into the bar.
In some ways, Josie reminds me of my brother’s fiancée, Lizzy. I think that’s why I immediately connected with her, even though she was Veronica’s friend. Their short stature somehow only intensifies their fiery and spunky attitudes into some kind of superpower. Both of them are outspoken, shameless flirts, and don’t take shit from anyone.
