His dad didn’t answer—they both knew she would be. But if his dad thought this was a time for truth, Luke would give it to him.
Steeling himself for the blowback, Luke said, “Dad, I’ve withdrawn from school.”
Chapter Four
Charlotte
Four a.m. came early the next morning. Charlotte had stayed up late talking to her mom, who’d reassured her and told her not to worry, but Charlotte’s shoulders still weighed a thousand pounds as she staggered downstairs to open up the kitchen before the morning rush.
“It was just a little fall. No harm done.” Her mother’s tone had been light…too light. “We’ll see you at Christmas.”
A week. Charlotte had to wait seven days to see her mom and decide for herself how things really were. She wanted to fix things, make it all better, but she couldn’t, and she hated it.
She gave the espresso machine a hard slap, channeling her frustration into making the stubborn machine wake up. It shuddered to life, and Charlotte made herself an espresso, hoping it would slap her awake in turn.
When she caught herself picking at her fingernails while thinking about her mother, Charlotte threw herself into her work. By five, she’d pulled all the chairs down from their tables, checked all the salt and pepper shakers, and fired up the oven for Mr. Bzdyl so it’d be warm when he arrived to make biscuits and rolls.
The work was monotonous, the same routine every day. Keeping busy was comforting, though. Charlotte could follow her open checklist without even looking at the note Mrs. Bzdyl had posted on the fridge. She was just starting coffee in the industrial coffeemaker in the back when Evangeline and her parents came in through the service door. Evangeline had snowflakes in her hair.
“It’s really coming down out there,” she said. “This is good for business.”
Charlotte left the kitchen to take a look. Snow was swirling in the light over the café’s front door. She still couldn’t get used to the sight. Growing up in Phoenix meant snow was a fairy tale in someone else’s life.
She shivered and went back to the kitchen, frowning. Just looking at the snow made her ache for a sixty-degree Christmas. “Why is a blizzard good for business?”
Mr. Bzdyl grunted a laugh. It made his paunchy stomach shake. “This? A blizzard? No, just a little snow shower. Now, back in Poland? I could show you what a real blizzard is.”
Evangeline grinned. “We know, Papa, we know. And you had to walk through six feet of snow to go to school in the winter.” She winked at Charlotte. “But, really, this is pretty light snow. Why it’s good for us is some skiers don’t like to ski when it’s actively snowing, so they’ll wait it out here. The snow should stop before lunch.”
Charlotte forced a smile. Another crazy-busy morning. Oh, well. At least I won’t have time to wring my hands over Mom.
Sure enough, as soon as they unlocked the front door at seven, there were already four tables’ worth of people waiting. Charlotte and Evangeline exchanged looks and hurried to seat everyone.
By the time it was eight thirty, they were running a twenty-minute wait and the café had grown stifling. A bead of sweat ran down Charlotte’s back, and her hair was damp. She took a second by the pickup window to swig some ice water. Mr. Bzdyl set plates of bacon, eggs, and pancakes onto the counter.
“Order up for lovely Charlotte,” he sang, hand over his heart.
A snort from the other side of the kitchen made Charlotte laugh. Mrs. Bzdyl was busily working on lunch prep at the far corner. “My husband, the poet.”
“Oh, darling Agnieszka, maker of delicious sandwiches, my heart beats only for thee.” Mr. Bzdyl gave his wife a bow, before adding something in Polish that made Mrs. Bzdyl flush and throw a dish towel after him.
Charlotte, laughing harder, put her dishes on a tray and hefted it onto her shoulder. What would she give for a love like that someday? She didn’t need it now, but later, after med school, she could do with a soul mate.
She ran the tray to a large table of what she could only describe as “bro-dogs.” Six twentysomething guys in expensive ski gear with a vibe that was distinctly rich frat boy with bad manners, all of them talking so loudly that they overcame the din of the busy diner.
“And there I was,” one crowed, “completely naked and—”
Charlotte, catching an alarmed look from a mother at a table with two tween boys who were watching the bro-dogs with avid interest, plopped the guy’s plate down in front of him. “I believe you had the egg white Denver omelet?”
He looked up at her, eyes sparking with something that made the back of Charlotte’s neck prickle. “I sure did, sweetheart.”
A wave of disgust coursed through Charlotte’s stomach as his gaze roamed, and he leaned forward to do the old “accidental boob graze” before she had a chance to dodge him. Charlotte tensed, her bones practically humming with rage, and pulled away to deliver the rest of the plates. She had the whole table’s attention, most of it consisting of smarmy frat-boy grins and a few leers. “I’m going to have to ask you to watch the language while you’re here. We’re a family establishment.”
The boob-grazer’s eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck cares?”
The room had gone really quiet for such a crowd, and Charlotte flushed. Now she had everyone’s attention. “I do. And we reserve the right to deny service to anyone. So, maybe you should fill that mouth full of eggs and stop embarrassing yourself.”
With that, she spun on her heel and went back to the kitchen, appreciative murmurs following in her wake. When she made it out of sight, she leaned against the wall. Her hands were shaking. If she got fired for running her mouth…well, she’d have to find another job, and that would suck.
Evangeline came hurrying around the corner, eyes wide. “You really put those assholes in their place. Good for you.”
Relief made Charlotte’s shoulders sag. “I’m not fired?”
“God, no.” Evangeline laughed. “Girl, if you work around this town long enough, you’ll realize if you don’t stand up for yourself, you’ll be run over by all the rich jerks who think they own Aspen.”
Charlotte let out a long breath and clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking. “Thanks. I promise not to mouth off to all the customers, just the worst offenders.”
“Fair enough.” Evangeline patted her arm. “Must dash. I seated a table of eight, and I’m sure they want their drinks yesterday.”
Still fuming, Charlotte went to pick up the orders for the bar. It wasn’t enough that walking across campus at night alone posed a risk. Now she had to deal with gropers at a café that sold chocolate chip pancakes, for God’s sake. In front of a busy room, at that. What the hell?
She scurried from table to table, ignoring the six-top and the smirking guys sitting around it. She was too busy to deal with them, and she sure hoped they paid cash so she wouldn’t have to run a card.
After another trip to the kitchen, she finally decided to face the table. Be chill. But when she went over with the check, they were gone. No money on the table, nothing. They’d dined and ditched, probably because she’d embarrassed them.
Red clouded Charlotte’s vision. She turned and saw the last of them hurrying out of the front door. No one ditched a check at this café. No one. Without thinking, she yelled, “Hey!” and took off after them.
Chapter Five
Luke
Luke didn’t get much sleep after his talk with Dad, despite being flat wiped out. Still, his dad had taken the news surprisingly well.
“My health scare showed me that if you want to do something, you shouldn’t wait around,” he’d said. “But…let’s keep all this as our secret until after Christmas. Then we’ll figure out how to break it to your mother.”
Dad’s plan was good, but the secret would burn a hole in Luke’s chest. He didn’t like hiding things—he was a straight-talking guy and hoped the people around him would tell it like it was, too.
Now, he stood outside the little café at the r
esort, staring through its fogged windows. The server from yesterday was working. From the looks of things, they were really busy again, but Luke could use a little fun this morning. Maybe she’d even deign to talk to him.
Smiling, he went to the door, pausing as a group of guys headed out of the café.
“What’s up, bro,” one said in passing.
Luke jerked his chin in a hello to be polite, but didn’t answer. These guys looked like they belonged in a cutthroat hedge fund office, not at Snowmass. One even had slicked back hair, of all things. Poseurs.
He turned to walk in and was almost mowed down by Charlotte. Her face was flushed bright red, and her hair was falling out of its ponytail as she ran out of the café. Shit, had he pissed her off just by showing up?
“Stop right there!” she yelled at the guys who’d just passed. “You will pay this bill, or I’m calling the cops!”
They all laughed and broke into a run, Charlotte huffing after them.
Anger sparked in Luke’s chest. What kind of asshole dined and ditched in Aspen? No way was he letting this go down. He took off, streaking past Charlotte and catching the slowest guy. Luke tackled him, sending him sprawling into the snow. The guy came up spluttering and took a swing at Luke, who dodged the flailing fist with ease.
Definitely a poseur.
“I believe you owe the lady payment for a meal,” Luke growled.
“Fuck you!” The guy spit at Luke.
Mistake.
Luke shoved the dude’s head into the snowbank. “Cool down, asshole.”
“Watch out!” Charlotte screamed.
Luke, seeing a shadow of a guy reflected in the snow, ducked instinctively. The fist still caught the top of his head, and Luke saw sparks. Pissed, he kneed the downed guy in the gut to keep him on his back and jumped up. Five guys stood right in front of him, all of them angry.
Luke loosened his stance and clenched his fists. “Pay your bill, and we’re done.”
“And apologize for the creepy frat-boy boob graze.” Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest.
Heat crept up the back of Luke’s neck. “What did you say?”
“That asshole”—Charlotte pointed at one of the guys—“felt me up while I was serving him breakfast.”
Luke growled, feeling out of control and dangerous. He liked a girl with fight, but he’d finish this one for her. “So, we going to do this, or are you going to cough up…” He looked at Charlotte. “How much?”
She waved a piece of paper. “Eighty-two dollars.”
He turned back to the guys. “A hundred bucks. Eighty-two for your meal, and a tip for your server.”
“There’s five of us and one of you. How’s that math work?” the ringleader asked.
Luke stared him down. “He’s the one who groped you, right?”
“Yes.”
Luke nodded, then sucker punched the guy in the jaw. The impact sent pain through his knuckles and up his arm, and the guy went down hard. Shaking out his hand, Luke sighed. “Where’s the hundred bucks? Only douchebags run out on a tab.”
Two of the four guys still standing pulled out their wallets and peeled twenties from stacks of cash. One of them shoved it into Luke’s hand, trying to act tough. “Better watch out on the mountain.”
Luke snorted. What a joke. “Noted.”
He stood there, watching as they pulled up their buddies. The group walked off, glowering and muttering that they’d “see that place shut down.” And something about “mouthy waitresses.”
Luke waited until they were out of sight, then handed Charlotte the wad of cash. “Sorry about that. I’ve lived in Aspen my whole life, and we see a lot of jackass weekenders like that. Best just to own them on the mountain and send them home.”
Charlotte started walking back to the café. Her cheeks were still pink. “I don’t even ski, so…I’ll stick to avoiding them when I can.”
“You work at a ski resort and you don’t ski?” Luke followed after her, admiring the view. She was built like a goddess. Not that he was ogling.
Much.
Charlotte huffed a breath. “I have to work too much to take the time. Are you coming in? There’s room at the bar.”
He took the seat she pointed at and smiled when she brought him the coffeepot. She set a mug in front of him, along with a baggie of ice. “Coffee’s on the house, and the ice is for your knuckles. Thanks for helping me with those guys.”
“My pleasure.” He toasted her with the mug. “I hate shit like that.”
She nodded, rubbing at her eyes. They had dark circles under them.
“You okay?” he asked.
“What? Oh, just tired. I, um, didn’t sleep well last night, and four a.m. comes early.” She gave him a fake smile. “What’ll you have?”
This would be the point he’d usually ask the girl in question out, but after Charlotte’s experience with the frat boys from hell, he decided to play it straight…for now. “Eggs and bacon and a side of fruit.”
“Protein and fruit. Got it.” She scratched it down on an order pad. “I’ll have it out in a bit.”
He watched her walk away, her hips swaying, and held back an appreciative sigh. Goddess, definitely.
Luke shook his head. No sense in getting caught up in the chase right now. He had stuff to do, and today was going to be busy.
He pulled out his phone to check the schedule he’d made. His trainer wanted him to take a few runs on some trails, then head to the SBX practice course at three thirty. Luke would get a good, close look at his competition then, too. Snowmass’s SBX practice course was rumored to be close to Buttermilk’s, so the best SBXers had descended on his home turf to work out.
Winning those regional races out of Colorado and New Mexico had been key. He’d managed to jump into the top thirty ranking. A top-two finish here would give him a spot at nationals. If he did well enough there, started the World Cup tour, and maintained his ranking, making the Olympics next year would be in his grasp.
Okay, so today, hit the course and work out with Michael. Tomorrow, meet Michael at the gym to train. Weights, then cardio, then a massage. Then it all starts over again. He only had a few weeks to get ready. If he blew it at the qualifier, he’d dropped out of school for nothing.
His heart skipped a few beats. God, what would Mom say then?
“Hello? Luke?”
His head popped up to find Charlotte holding a tray with his breakfast on it. By the way she was trying not to smile, she’d probably been calling his name for a while.
“Oh, thanks.” He set his phone on the counter, his plans for the day disappearing the second he was caught by her gaze. “Hey, what time do you get off today?”
She raised an eyebrow, and he laughed. “Off work.”
“Ah.” She shrugged. “Two thirty, usually. Sometimes three. Why?”
Thinking fast, he said, “You said you didn’t ski. That makes you a perfect student to learn to snowboard—no habits to break. How about I pick you up around four and give you a lesson?”
Charlotte flushed and wrapped her arms around her waist. It made her shirt tighten across her breasts, and Luke couldn’t help taking a look. They were goddamned magnificent. When his eyes flicked back up to hers, she pursed her mouth in annoyance. “I’ve had enough of being ogled today, thank you.”
Luke winced. “Uh…sorry. I—shit, sorry. Um, yeah. How about that snowboard lesson? I have gear you can borrow, and I swear I’ll keep my eyes in the right place.”
Mostly.
She frowned—not a good sign. “Look, I really appreciate your help today, and you seem like a decent guy…”
He fought to keep his expression neutral. Decent? Decent? My brother is decent.
Luke wasn’t anything of the sort.
“…but I’m really busy, and I’m usually exhausted after work,” Charlotte went on. “Snowboarding sounds tough after standing on my feet for eight-plus hours.”
Luke gave her a dose of his lazy smile, the one
that usually launched a dozen girls his direction. Charlotte flushed again, and he leaned on the counter, flexing his arms so they strained at his T-shirt, smirking when she took a look. “When’s your next day off, then?”
Her mouth dropped open slightly. “I…I’m going home Christmas Eve. Not until then.”
“But if you had time off, would you go out with me?”
Charlotte’s expression warred between annoyance and interest. Finally, she said, “Maybe.”
He reached out to touch her hand, grinning inwardly when she didn’t flinch away. “I’ll keep trying, then. Thanks for the coffee.”
She nodded, then turned to go to the kitchen. He watched her, waiting.
“Look back,” he whispered.
And she did.
Luke’s pulse leaped. He had her.
Chapter Six
Charlotte
Charlotte let out a huge sigh of relief when Mr. Bzdyl flipped the sign from open to closed. This shift had been three years too long.
“You okay?” he asked. “I know this is a hard time. You can go home if you need to—we have temp servers we can ask to cover for you.”
“It’s not that,” she said, yawning.
“It’s the fact that she chased down a pack of rich boys who stiffed us on their bill,” Evangeline called from the counter, where she was methodically filling saltshakers. “They were being jerks, and she called them out, so they ditched.”
Mr. Bzdyl’s normally kind face morphed into a hard expression, revealing the man who’d spent his early adulthood in the Polish army. “Why not call me?”
“I…didn’t think to.” Charlotte shrugged. She’d been too angry to call for backup. “I ran after them. I wasn’t thinking, sorry.”
“She had help.” Evangeline’s smile was sly. “That hot snowboarder was back today, I see. And you brought him ice for his knuckles. I’m assuming he got our money?”
The back of Charlotte’s neck grew warm, and she let out a helpless laugh. “And punched the guy who brushed up against me like a creeper.”
“One of them touched you?” Mr. Bzdyl’s face was bright red, and his voice was a growl. “And that other young man punched him?”
Crazy Love Page 3