“Excuse me?” Skylar said, startled by the stranger’s remark.
“Those won’t do the job on the slopes. You need something with better protection,” he admonished, as if talking to a child. “Inside the store, they look a lot darker than they are. Outside, they won’t cut much light.”
“Thanks, but I think they’ll do just fine,” Skylar replied, trying to sound pleasant, even though his remark had struck her as rather presumptuous. He might be good looking but he wasn’t cute enough to take orders from. What did he know about sunglasses that made him such an expert anyway? She liked the aviators and they were exactly what she wanted.
“Try on the black wraps. You’ll love them,” the man suggested nonchalantly.
With a drop of her shoulders, Skylar simply stared at him as if he were crazy. She was tired, hungry and more than ready to get out of the store. The glasses in her hand would do just fine. It was getting late and she still had to stop at the drugstore to pick up a few toiletries and then hit the gas station to top off the tank of her rented Jeep before setting off to Scenic Ridge. She shook her head, “No thanks. I’ve got to get going.” She started to walk away.
“Trust me. They won’t be what you want,” the man in the red parka called out after Skylar.
His bossy tone set her teeth on edge. She stopped in mid-stride and whirled around. Who the hell are you to tell me what to buy? But, blinking her eyes and sucking back a smart remark, she decided it might not be a good idea to go off on the guy in public. This was a classy place and she didn’t want to make a scene, but it was hard to keep from flaring up at him.
“I’m fine with these,” she managed in a tight voice, thinking that the guy had some kind of an accent that she couldn’t place. Not African. Not Hispanic. And not French. He must be from the islands…overly friendly. Or he didn’t know any better, she decided, willing to forgive his rude behavior. “I appreciate your interest,” she told him. “However, I prefer the ones I picked out.”
“You’ll be sorry,” he insisted as he reached for a pair of Manu wraps similar to those that both he and the blonde woman were wearing. He held them up and swung them back and forth in Skylar’s face. “These are a bit more expensive than the aviators, but if you can afford them, I’d go with these. Think of it as an investment in your eyes.”
His condescending tone hit a nerve in Skylar that sent a hot flash into her chest. “If I can afford them?” she tossed back, trying to keep her voice within some kind of a normal range. “That’s a rude thing to say. How dare you insinuate that I have to worry about money? Do I look like a sister who has money problems?” she asked, biting down hard on her bottom lip to keep from blurting out the secret she was determined to keep as long as she was in Aspen.
“No, no,” the man stuttered helplessly, obviously embarrassed. “I didn’t mean that at all.”
Skylar glared at him, unable to respond. She was wearing dark rinse jeans, a white cable knit sweater, a brown leather bomber jacket and brown ankle boots. Her jewelry was understated, but real gold, and she knew her hairstylist back in Tampa had hooked up her locks just fine before she left town. I might not look like a fashion diva, but I know I don’t look ghetto, either, she told herself. In her most flippant, sister-girl voice, she told the guy, “Look. You don’t even know me, so don’t get too personal, okay? I don’t need your help, and I surely don’t need your investment advice.”
The man threw up both hands and stepped back, smiling. “Hey. Sorry if I offended you. I was only trying to help you save money in the long run. I was just offering a tip from experience.”
“Leave her alone,” the blond woman now interjected, moving close and slipping her arm possessively through her companion’s. She graced Skylar with a smug, too-sweet smile, and clutched her apparent boyfriend’s jacket sleeve even harder. “If the lady wants to waste her money, let her. We have other things to do than worry about her. I told you I wanted to go over to Duval’s. Come on,” she said and gave the guy’s arm a hard tug.
Infuriated by the man’s intrusion, the woman’s catty remark and her fake smile, Skylar was tempted to snatch a handful of curly blonde hair from the woman’s head. But instead, she rolled her eyes at the nosy couple and spun around. If they’re the kind of people I’ll have to deal with up here, then this temporary gig is going to be hell. Deena owes me big-time.
Mark watched the woman with the aviators push through the glass door and disappear, wondering who she was and where she was staying. Though his face appeared calm, his heart was pounding a steady drum beat inside his chest and he couldn’t understand why. The woman was attractive in a refreshingly wholesome way that he rarely saw among the stressed-out, wealthy, high-strung types that usually frequented Gorsuch’s. Beautiful, flawless brown skin. Not too tall, but not too short, either. Well dressed, but not flamboyantly attired in trendy, overpriced clothing. She was a fresh vision in this spend-crazy, out-to-impress kind of town.
A real natural beauty!
While waiting for the clerk to ring up the sale, he glanced out the front window and saw the woman in the bronze aviators drive off in a bright red Jeep. Mark smiled. She’d be easy to find. All he had to do was pass out a bunch of twenty dollar bills to the doormen at every hotel in town and sooner or later he’d get a call informing him who she was and where she was staying. The thought of tracking down the beautiful stranger created a warm glow of anticipation that spread throughout Mark’s body and made him want to thank Goldie for smashing her goggles against a pine tree yesterday and forcing him into town.
Chapter 5
Deena Simpson walked out onto the balcony of her five-room apartment on the fourth floor of the main lodge at Scenic Ridge, her cell phone pressed to her ear. Shading her eyes with one hand, she focused on the narrow winding road that led up from Woody Creek, watching for Skylar’s Jeep. The only drivers who would be on the road that curved and twisted as it rose into the mountains were those bound for Scenic Ridge, as it dead-ended at the two stone posts that flanked the front gates of the resort.
“Where are you now?” she spoke into the phone, getting a bit anxious. Skylar had called her from the airport when she arrived in Aspen to tell Deena that she was going to stop in town to pick up a few things, but would be right along. That had been three hours ago. Deena guessed that her suddenly rich sister had decided to do some major retail damage in town. And she deserves to, Deena thought, elated that the Dorchester settlement had been so generous, freeing Skylar from any financial worries for the rest of her life—if she managed her money well.
It was amazing to think that Skylar was a rich woman now, and could buy whatever she wanted. When she and Deena were children, their hard-working parents had earned just enough money to cover life’s necessities, with little left over to indulge their children. They had been ultraconservative in their spending and cautious about everything they did, refusing to take risks or try anything new that might upset their carefully balanced lives. Deena often thought that her parents’ approach to life was what had made her run off to Colorado and marry Jerome. His plan to build a ski school in Aspen country was bold, risky and exciting. Now, her life in the mountains was very far removed from her childhood upbringing, and Deena never regretted setting off on this grand adventure with her husband.
“Have you passed the covered bridge yet?” she asked. “You have? Good, then you’re on the right road. Just stay on it and keep driving uphill, even when it narrows down to a single lane and you think you’re going to drive off the edge. Trust me, you won’t. See you in a bit.”
Deena
