Page 27 of A Little Too Late
“We’ll see,” she grunts, and I try to give her a pointed stare without being obvious about it. I regret spilling the whole sad tale to my friends. Besides, Reed will soon disappear. And after his father sells the resort, there will be even less incentive for him to ever come back.
I wish he’d never come at all. I don’t want to know the details of his life. I don’t want to be able to picture him sitting here in the Evergreen Room. I don’t want to know how hot he looks in a suit. Or that he has a perky assistant who clearly adores him even though she claims otherwise.
And Ireallydon’t want to know that he has a girlfriend named Harper.
The moment I’d heard that, my first reaction had been:at least he’s not married. Then I’d wanted to kick myself.
I’m not interested in Reed Madigan. He’s a stranger to me now. I just need to lock down my heart and survive this week. And then I can go back to living my life the way it was before.
Except he’s right there across the table, looking familiar and also devastating.
The evening wears on whether I’m willing or not. The Sharpes are gregarious men, and small talk flourishes around me. That’s lucky, because Reed’s presence has thrown me off my game. I’m too busy feeling self-conscious to be witty and entertaining.
The waiter I’d chosen to handle the evening’s events comes in to take orders. There are three main-course options, but everyone in the Sharpe party chooses the steak and potatoes.
I mentally high-five myself for putting that steak on the menu. Chef Anita had wanted to go a little edgier, but I’d talked her down. Although she’ll be gratified to note that Reed, his father, and I chose her seared Ahi with crispy rice and a wasabi drizzle. Only Melody opts for the vegetarian gnocchi.
Everything is going great, I remind myself.I got this. I turn to the youngest Sharpe—the one they call Trey—and ask him whether he prefers skis or a snowboard.
“Oh, board for sure,” he says. “Skis are for the oldsters.”
Across the table, I see Reed’s lip curl.
So that topic is off the table.
When the first course is served, at least I’ve got something to do with my hands.
“Why don’t you tell us about your vision for Madigan Mountain,” Reed says as our guests dig in. “How does it fit in with the Sharpe brand?”
It’s an important question, even if I wish Reed hadn’t rolled into town to ask it.
The middle Sharpe puts down his fork. “We believe Madigan Mountain can bethepremier luxury destination for skiers who want a big mountain experience with exquisite accommodations. The Sharpe brand is pure luxury. The best food and the best service.” He barely pauses for a breath before continuing his sales pitch. “We have a loyal, wealthy clientele who visit our resorts year after year. There’s the ranch in Texas, where Granddaddy started. We also have a desert spa in Arizona, three golf courses, and a beach resort on the Gulf Coast.”
“But no skiing,” I add.
“That’s right, little girl,” the grandfather says.
Little girl. Jesus.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Reed says. “Where do you see the growth potential here? There are environmental constraints. The owners of the abutting property won’t let you widen Madigan Mountain Road. We tried for years.”
What the hell?I want to kick Reed under the table. Is hetryingto scuttle the deal?
“And,” he continues, “you can’t build any more condos without better access to the mountain.”
All three Sharpes just smile. “We’re fixin’ to raise prices,” the middle Sharpe says. “Our customers are in it for quality not quantity.”
Reed sips his wine, watching the three Sharpes over the rim of his glass. “How much can you raise them, though, before you price yourself out of the market?”
Kill me already. This night is going to last a hundred years.
I was wrong. It lasts even longer. The Sharpes like their wine, and they like to talk about themselves. I now know more about ranching than I ever cared to learn.
When the party moves to the bar, I begin to plot my escape. Ten more minutes of schmoozing ought to do it. Then I’ll sneak away.
Mark Madigan proposes a toast. “To familiar faces as well as new friends. I couldn’t be happier to welcome you all to Madigan Mountain.”
I raise my glass right on cue. Reed looks reluctant.
