Page 12 of A Little Too Late
She laughs. “No, but good idea. Can you make it triple sized?”
“No way,” Callie says. “One normal-sized brownie is all she gets.”
I give the kid a shrug that says,hey, I just work here. “What else were you going to ask me?”
“Can I be in the Opening Night Parade? Pleeeeeeeease. I’m a better skier than, like, half the grownups who work here.”
“Sutton!” her mother scolds. “That’s bragging.”
“Not if it’s true,” the little girl argues.
“Can you ski in formation in the darkandhold the torch high enough for everyone to see?” I ask her.
“Ofcourse. It’s just the lower bowl. I could do it with my eyes closed.”
When I glance at Callie, she looks resigned. “If you can get someone to partner with you, then you can do it. Callie might be too busy running the show to ski with you.”
“You can come with me,” Raven volunteers. “No problem.”
“Yay!” Sutton cheers. “Thank you!”
Raven winks a blue eye at the little girl just as the front door flies open. Halley, our friend who tends bar at the hotel, enters the apartment looking flushed and beautiful. “You will notbelievewhat I just heard,” she says, whipping a beanie from her curls. “We’re kicking off this season with someexcellentmountain gossip.”
“Ooh, tell us,” Callie demands. “My body is ready.”
My stomach drops. Mountain gossip is like small-town gossip, but worse. It travels faster than an avalanche, and no one is exempt.
Also, I think I can guess what this is about.
“Reed Madigan showed up today!” Halley says, tossing her coat at a hook and missing. “Rumor has it that he looksfiiiiiine.”
There is a collective gasp, and I make myself very busy plating up a brownie for Sutton.
“He just showed up out of the blue?” Callie asks. “After all this time?”
“That’s right!” Halley says gleefully. “Hardy—the new bellhop? He didn’t recognize him. Says Reed gave him an evil look. So now Hardy’s hoping he won’t be fired. Especially with all these rumors swirling about the mountain being sold to some investors. Maybe Reed is one of them!”
“Ohh,” Raven gasps. “You know, I heard he’s some kind of investor.”
Nope. Reed is not the buyer, and bite your tongue. As much as I’d like to offer up that tidbit of information, I don’t. The deal details are in the vault. Mark Madigan trusts me with all kinds of secrets, and I’d never betray the boss.
“Was his father expecting him?” Raven asks. “Wait—Ava!” She turns to me. “You must have met the Prodigal Son. Is he hot?”
My face heats as all four women turn to stare at me, including the nine-year-old one. “Well, yes. He’s, uh, very attractive. If you like the obnoxious corporate type.”
Halley’s sharp eyes give me a once-over. “Hang on. Are you wearing makeup?”
I attempt a casual shrug. “Maybe. So?” I offer the brownie to Sutton.
She pounces on it. “You do look extra pretty tonight. Do you usually wear gold eyeshadow?”
“Sometimes,” I mutter as my face gets even hotter.
“Ava,” Callie says in her best this-is-your-mother-speaking voice. “Why do you look guilty? What aren’t you telling us about the elusive Reed Madigan?”
I shrug helplessly. “You know I can’t dish out corporate office secrets.” And then I wince, because I’m a terrible liar and always have been.
“Corporate secrets?” Callie asks, adding strawberry syrup to the blender. “Nobody here is asking for private documents, Ava. So just spill.”
