by Vivian Ward
White Out
Vivian Ward
Copyright © 2020 by Vivian Ward
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Vivian Ward Newsletter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
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Chapter 1
Amy
“I can’t believe I won!” I say to my best friend and roommate, Sierra, as I stare at my email in shock.
Giggling, her smile beams with excitement for me as she stands at the doorway of my bedroom. “Are you glad that I entered you in that contest now? Not only will you get to meet Olympic Skier Brett Carnegie and be filmed for a television show, but you’ll have photo ops and all sorts of fun activities!”
“No! Sierra,” I gasp. “You know with everything I’ve got going on that I don’t have time for something like this!”
Shaking her head, she says, “No, Amy, you’re going! The only reason why I entered you into that contest is because you need a vacation. All you do is go to school and work, and when you’re not doing that, you’re taking care of everything else. You deserve this, damn it!”
I know she’s right and that she was only thinking of me when she entered me into this stupid ski resort contest at Bachelor Mountain Ski Lodge but it’s just not a good time. With my mom recently passing away, I have a zillion things to take care of on top of everything that I already do.
“Sierra,” I softly say in an attempt to calm her down. I can tell that she’s pissed about my reluctancy to go—and I want to—but my mind isn’t in the right frame for something like this. “It’s not that I don’t want to go, but I just have so many loose ends to tie up and finals are only a few weeks away and,” she cuts me off as I go on with my laundry list of everything that needs my attention.
“Shut up, Amy! I fucking love you and you’re going! I’ll help you with anything you need—including making sure that your bags are packed before you get on that plane!”
Collapsing onto my bed, I let out a loud sigh as I process everything. I really should stay here and focus on school, my mom’s estate, and work, but when is the next time I’ll have an opportunity like this? Brett is a world champion downhill skier, I’ll get to be on a TV show, I’ll meet all sorts of interesting people—including other celebrities—and only twenty women were selected out of hundreds, if not thousands who applied. It seems kind of irresponsible to drop everything and run off for a weekend but, again, it’s only one weekend. Having an intense feeling of being watched, I glance over at Sierra who refuses to leave my doorway and notice her stoney expression staring me down.
She’ll be pissed if I don’t go because she went through a lot of trouble to enter me into this contest. It wasn’t just filling out a little form; they practically made you jump through hoops. And I know her intentions were good and she’s right, I do need this.
Fuck it. What could one weekend hurt?
“Fine,” I draw out the word in hesitance. “But you have no clue how much I have to do. Just remember that you signed me up for this and that you volunteered to help me out while I’m gone.”
She rolls her eyes as she plops down next to me, forcing me to bounce on the mattress. “Yes, Amy, I know. You don’t have to remind me of how busy you are,” she huffs. “Look, I know you’ve been dealing with a lot but it’s important to take time for yourself. You’ve been taking care of your mom these last two years while she had cancer and was on chemo plus dealing with all of your courses, work, etc; it’s time for some you time.”
Grabbing my phone, I click on the Gmail icon and scroll over the email once again, studying all of the details as I think about what tasks I can have her help me with while I’m away. Obviously, she can’t study for me nor can she work my shifts, but I really could use a lot of help with keeping an eye on mom’s house—especially if I’m away.
Mom didn’t live in the best neighborhood—North St. Louis isn’t exactly the safest area—but I’m more worried about my sister, Karen, going over there and cleaning the place out. She’s mostly the reason why I drive by there two to three times per day. The bitch thinks that just because she’s the oldest, she should get everything but she never cared about mom.
Karen couldn’t even be bothered to check in on mom after her cancer treatments. They made her sicker than a dog and I lost two jobs due to missed work while caring for her, but my sister’s life went on without missing a beat. She dated, had fun, and got married while I drove myself into the ground.
“All right,” I say, turning over onto my stomach. “The most important thing that you have to do—and promise me that you’ll do it—is drive past my mom’s house a few times a day.”
She nods her head. “Got it. Become a dead woman’s stalker. What else do you need me to do?”
“I’m serious, Sierra! You have to keep an eye on it,” I give her a stern look.
“I will,” she huffs. “I was only kidding. You know I’ll do whatever you need. Is there anything else?”
I’d love it if she could help me with a million other things but it’s all stuff that I have to do for myself, like work and studying. The only other thing that she could help me with is meeting the attorney who I spoke to on the phone the other day. With the way Karen’s been acting, I felt like I might need to get a lawyer involved so I made a few calls and scheduled an appointment, but it looks like I’ll be putting that on hold until I get back. “There is one more thing,” I add.
“What’s that?”
“If you happen to run into my sister while I’m gone—or hell, even before I leave—let her know how much of a self-entitled bitch she is. And do you know the worst part?” I start to go on a rant. “Is that she always thinks she’s right—about everything. She actually believes that she should get all of mom’s stuff and that I should get none of it—or maybe the leftovers that she doesn’t want.”
“No problem,” Sierra chuckles. “I’ll just tell her, ‘Look, Karen. You’re not always right. Now shut your mouth before I get YOUR manager.”
We both laugh at her joke. My mom couldn’t have picked a better name for that bitch. “Okay,” I say. “I guess I only have a few days to get all packed and reschedule my appointment with the attorney so I’d better get on it.”
“You’re going to have so much fun,” she gushes. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a cute guy there!”
I roll my eyes and sigh. “Right. Like I have time for a boyfriend? How are we roommates? I’m not even sure that we live on the same planet with a suggestion like that,” I laugh at her.
“We do! And I can tell you right now that you need to get laid! How long has it been anyway?”
I try to recall the last time I had sex but it takes a minute before I can answer her as I think about it. “Um
mmm, about two years, maybe?”
Her jaw falls open. “TWO YEARS?!”
“Well, when was the last time you had sex?” I counter.
“Yesterday! What the fuck, Amy? How do you even go two years without dick? You’re practically a virgin again!”
“See that little drawer?” I point to my white nightstand. “That’s how I go without dick. It has everything I need but without the bullshit, headache, drama, disappointment, etc.”
“Oh my God, girl,” she spits back. “I should make you wear a sign that says, ‘Hi, my name is Amy and I’m a virgin’ on that trip.’”
Scooping my phone off of the bed, I grunt as I get up and make my way to my small closet. “Shut up and help me pack while I call my work and my attorney.”
Just a few short days later, I’m exiting the airport as I drag my luggage behind me and, for once, a giddy feeling of excitement courses through me as I inhale the sharp, cold Colorado air. This is going to be so much fun, I think to myself. I do deserve this trip! While standing on the sidewalk near the front doors as I wait for my Uber, I take in all of the beautiful scenery. Everything but the streets is covered in crisp, pearl-white snow and the air is so much fresher here. I take in another sharp breath and realize that I can actually smell the snow! Far in the distance, I can see snow-covered mountains past all the tall buildings and they look majestical. I can’t believe I get to have an entire weekend here!
A small, black sedan pulls in front of me and rolls down the passenger window. “Are you Amy?” He asks.
“Yes! Are you,” I look down at the app, “Jordan?”
“That would be me,” he smiles. “Let me get out and help you with your bags,” he says, throwing the car in park. A few moments later, we’ve got everything in the trunk and he opens the back door for me. “After you,” he waves his hand.
Sinking down into the warm leather seat, I smile and begin thinking about what’s ahead over the next few days. We turn onto the freeway when I realize just how much of my weekend is planned and a feeling of anxiety washes over me. What if I don’t know how to act around all the celebs and big shots who will be there? What if I say something dumb? What if I’m not classy enough to be around these type of people?
My palms begin to sweat and my fingers start to tingle. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous—but I’ve also never done anything like this before. A feeling of panic rises in my throat as I think about asking the driver to turn around and take me back to the airport.
I know Sierra would kill me if I came right back home but I could stay at a nearby hotel and pretend that I went. She wouldn’t find out until the show aired.
Maybe this was a bad idea after all.
Contemplating all of my options as we barrel down the highway, I notice the driver turn on his signal as we start to slow down.
Oh God, I can’t do this!
Chapter 2
Greg
Sitting at the bar, I sip on my whiskey while I wait for Brett to join us before the women start arriving. I shouldn’t have come this weekend with all of the work that awaits me back home but it’s been too long since we’ve gotten to catch up. In all honesty, if this wasn’t such an amazing publicity event, I might’ve said no. But knowing that this whole weekend will be recorded for television is too good to pass up. What attorney passes up free advertising? Certainly, not me!
I feel as though my job is rather boring as an estate planning attorney, so it’ll be nice to have a weekend to play in the snow and meet some cute girls—even if they mainly came to meet Brett. The producers will have him so busy that there’s no way he’ll be able to entertain every girl, and that’s where we come in. He hand-picked some of the eligible bachelors to come on the show with him and I’m very much looking forward to having some fun.
I’ve never been the relationship type of guy; not that I’m against it, I’ve just never met the right girl. In high school, I was too interested in sports to care about girls and in college, I was too into sex to care about an actual relationship. While I was in law school, I was just too busy and now I just work all the time. I think part of the reason why I work so much is to fill my time since I don’t have anyone to share it with but I also have quite a bit of clients who are interested in planning their estate and then refer their friends to me, which isn’t a bad thing at all.
“How’s it going?” Brett pulls out one of the tall, wooden chairs next to me before taking a seat.
“When did you sneak in here?” I ask, polishing off the rest of my drink.
“Just a second ago,” he holds two fingers up, signaling to the bartender for a couple more drinks as he points to my glass. “Are you all settled in?”
“I hope so,” I laugh. “I got in late last night and have had the whole day to unpack and relax before the real fun begins.”
The bartender places to glasses of scotch on the rocks in front of us before he asks, “Anything else, Mr. Carnegie?”
“No, thanks,” he replies before turning his attention back to me. “Jesus, how long has it been since the two of us had a drink together?”
“Um,” I think back. “Probably four years? Maybe five?”
He shakes his head. “That’s too damn long! We were so close in high school when we played sports together but as we got older, we kind of went our separate ways. Let’s make a toast.”
We pick up our glasses, “Here’s to old friends catching up and having a weekend of fun!”
Clinking our glasses, we drink to that and no sooner than we set them back down on the bar, a cold gust of wind whips across our faces. We turn our attention toward the front doors and see that a few of them women have arrived. Brett checks the gold watch on his wrist, “Well, I guess it’s about that time.”
The ladies don’t even bother checking in first. The small group of them make a beeline straight towards us and immediately begin cooing and gawking over Brett.
“Oh, Brett! Thank you so much for such an amazing opportunity! I can’t wait for the picture op tomorrow!” One of them gloats.
“Me too! I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for such a long time. I’m a huge fan!” Another one chimes in.
They all take turns giving him compliments and telling him how excited they all are. Meanwhile, another girl walks in and does the exact opposite of these women which immediately catches my attention. Is she part of the show this weekend? Does she even have a clue what’s going on here? Does she even know who Brett is or what she’s just walked in on?
I watch her check in and, as the front desk clerk is waiting on her and giving her instructions on how to find her room, I catch her meekly glancing over her shoulder. When she notices me staring at her, she immediately casts her eyes away and pretends as though she was aimlessly looking around.
She’s drop dead gorgeous! Why is she acting so shy? I wonder. Out of all the women here, she’d probably have the best chance of getting Brett in the sack. While he loves the attention, he prefers girls who don’t gawk at him. He finds them more ‘challenging’. Ironically, so do I.
Since Brett is a bit distracted, I quietly excuse myself and approach her. I have to talk to her. I don’t know what it is about her but something is drawing me to her like a moth to a flame.
It could be her popping eyes, her pouty lips, or her curvy little figure. Who knows? Maybe it could be her shyness. But I’m not letting her get away without introducing myself to her.
“Hi,” I smile down at her.
Her wide doe eyes travel up my body until we make eye contact once again. A small smile briefly tugs at her lips before she replies, “Hi.”
“Can I help you with your bags?” I offer, pointing to her luggage. Unlike the women who’ve already arrived, she just has a few pieces but any gentleman would know it’s proper to offer a lady help carrying things.
“Oh,” she looks down at her bags. “No thanks, I’ve got it.”
Shy and self-sufficient; I like it. “I promise I don’t bite,” I
say before stopping myself from finishing the last part of my sentence, ‘unless you want me to.’
“What?” She looks at me and then realizes what I’ve said. “Oh! Haha! No, I didn’t think that. It’s just that they’re not heavy and I don’t have much.”
Refusing to take no for an answer, I slowly reach down and the bags from her hands. For a split second, my hands touch hers and jolts of electricity spark between us. I look into her eyes to see if she felt the same thing, and I know she did. Her lips slightly part as she stares at her hand as though I’ve just burned her.
“I’ll help you anyway,” I say, breaking the tension between us.
“O-okay,” she stumbles to find her words. Looking at her key card, she says, “I’m in room 204, upstairs.”
My heartbeat kicks up a notch. “204?”
“Yeah.”
Perfect. It’s across the hall from my room. Approaching her door, I let her in on this tidbit.
“Oh, really?” A shade of crimson spreads across her cheeks.
“Really. We should get drinks later,” I suggest.
“Oh, um, I don’t know,” she says, opening her door.
I don’t wait for an invitation to go in and follow her straight into her room. “What else are you going to do? Sit around all night?” I smile at her. “Come and have a drink with me later. It looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this weekend. It’d be better if we got to know each other.” I give her a slight wink.
Chapter 3