Page 4 of The Christmas Playbook
What a bitch.
“I’ll babysit for free,” I hiss.
“Done.” Rachel steps forward and points at me with her thumb. “Mira stole some guy’s coffee.”
My jaw slacks. “What? No, I didn’t!”
“Is there a Kevin around?” my father shouts. “Is there a Kevin missing his coffee?”
If someone takes this coffee from my hand…
“Mira, just because you work at a café doesn’t mean you can just help yourself to other people’s drinks.” My mom sighs.
My face is blank.
She gives me a disappointed look and turns away.
Our boarding group is called over the speaker, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
One three-hour flight and a quick shuttle to the resort stands between me and peace and quiet. Maybe I can figure out what to do with my life all alone in my warm, cozy cabin with nothing butmy family’s disappointment lingering around to fill the empty space.
CHAPTER 3
RHYS
It takesforeverto get to the resort. From the drive, to the flight to California, to theresortin Big Bear, by the time we arrive, I am ready to jump out of my skin.
“Who would’ve thought Southern California would have good skiing?” I mumble.
Everyone ignores me. But we went from no snow and zero elevation toall the snow. The roads are clear, but the piles from the plow trucks on the sides of the road are taller than me, easy. It makes me want to leap from the vehicle and cannonball into them, but I refrain.
We park the two SUVs outside the main lodge, and we all go inside to check into our private cabins. The front desk girl seems a bit frazzled by all of us at once, but after signing paperwork and swiping credit cards, she hands out our keys with a cartoon map of the resort. It even has the different lifts and trails labeled for when we hit the slopes.
“There are parking spots at each cabin,” she advises us. “We have a few different restaurant options here at the lodge, including our world-renowned restaurant at the top of Topher’s Peak. All the information is in the binder in your cabin. Enjoy your stay!”
Thorne parks at his cabin, and we all pile out. His and Briar’s cabin is close enough that I won’t have to hike far to mine. Judging by the brass number nailed beside the door, I’m only one away. I, along with my friends, pull my luggage from the trunk.
“So, what are we gonna do now?” I ask. “Besides like, settling in…”
They exchange a glance that says they’re probably gonna bone as soon as they’re alone.
Great.
“Never mind.” I roll my eyes. “You two have fun.”
I trudge away, my arms full. The cabin key is in one of my pockets, but that’s a problem for when I get to the porch.
“See you for dinner?” Thorne shouts behind me.
“Yep!”
Two minutes later, I climb up the steps to my new home for the week. I stomp the snow from my boots on the porch, which seems disappointingly bare. There’s just a welcome mat. The one with the hot tub and rocking chairs, as advertised, must be in the back. Facing one of the runs, I hope.
There’s no better people-watching than seeing inexperienced skiers wipe out, and that’s just a fact.
Juggling my bags, I unlock the door and step in. The fireplace is already going, the flames crackling. I feel for a light switch, and the room suddenly illuminates.
There’s a little kitchenette, a couch, a television. The bed seems warm and cozy, piled with blankets, in the corner.
