From the Top

by Dani Collins

  Glory’s “Tsk,” stopped him from leaving. He spun back to Ilke.

  “If you’re not able to ski, you must have time to kill? Ask Vivien to show you how to run this place. Glory needs to write.”

  “Rolf—” Glory protested on a choke. “It’s not that easy.”

  “Ilke is smart enough to stay out of my brother’s bed. That makes her smart enough to learn the rest.” He walked out.

  “That man.” Glory shook her head. “You don’t want to do a bunch of office work, do you?”

  Ilke was broke, homeless, jobless, and pregnant. “Will you pay me?”

  “You’d be working for Dad and, yes, of course. But it’s boring data entry and calling around to place orders. Dad loves the front desk and talking on the phone, but you’d have to cover for him there, which—fair warning—means talking to people who treat you like a peasant.” She slid her gaze toward the door where Rolf had disappeared. “Including some people who are permanent residents. Plus, you would have to make up the work schedule each week, which is literally the worst. We only have sixteen employees right now, but Dad is always promising someone a day off and forgetting to write it down. More are being hired to start in the next few weeks, so there’s a bunch of payroll stuff to set up, too.”

  “I worked as a chalet girl for four years.” She’d also been a bartender, a server, a lift attendant, a ski instructor, and a technician in a rental shop. “I’ll change sheets and scrub toilets, if you need me to.” Ilke shrugged. “How much does it pay?”

  “Good to know you’re open to anything, but housekeeping is actually in good shape for now. Would you be interested in working for trade, though? Say four hours a day, five days a week and I’ll comp your room? Six, and I’ll throw in a food card.”

  “Done.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Can I come back after I shower and eat breakfast?” And throw up again and brush her teeth?

  “Ask Vivien to set you up. She’s not usually down until ten. I’ll make some notes for her. Find her when you’re ready.”

  Ilke nodded and rose.

  “Can I ask—”

  “It’s not Rolf’s,” Ilke cut in.

  “I would have killed you both already if I thought that was a possibility.” Glory offered a werewolf smile. “But if you don’t want to tell me who the father is, that’s fine.”

  It will have to be, Ilke telegraphed with a bland smile of her own.

  “Okey-dokey.” Glory touched the file folders and blew out a breath that wafted a stray wisp of hair at her temple.

  Ilke started to leave, then was compelled to turn back and say, “I enjoyed your book, by the way. I preordered and read it the day it came out. I think I expected it to read more like one of your mom’s, which would have been nice. I always loved them so much, but yours was fun in its own way. When is your next one coming out?”

  Glory often carried a defensive chip on her shoulder, but suddenly looked like a kitten with its paw caught, eyes big and glossy. “July. And oh my God, that’s so nice of you to say. Thank you. Stay as long as you like,” she added with a magnanimous, if self-deprecating grin.

  Ilke chuckled, but dryly. No one had ever accused her of being ‘nice.’ She didn’t have the bandwidth to extend herself to others. Mostly, she carried a grudge that life had left her bare-assed to the world with nothing and no one to fall back on. She hadn’t had a wealthy father who owned a sporting goods conglomerate. She had had to get as far as she had by shedding blood, sweat, and tears.

  And by the way, did Glory not realize she was supposed to despise Ilke on principle for sleeping with Rolf that one time? Instead, she was being nice. Not for the first time, either. She’d been quite civil to Ilke every time they had met. Polite and welcoming and now she was even helping her support herself.

  Ilke didn’t know how to react to that. It was uncomfortable that she needed a leg-up, but to actually receive it? What was she supposed to do with that?

  She managed a nod of thanks and went to her room.

  Chapter Five

  Vivien was showing Ilke around the front desk when Devon came out of the manager’s office, moving with her no-nonsense stride. Her expression was bullish despite features that could be feminine and puckish on those rare occasions when she actually smiled.

  “Mornin’,” she responded flatly to Vivien’s greeting, not even looking at her or Ilke and leaving through the front doors.

  A whoosh of cold air swirled up Vivien’s skirt, making her suppress a shiver as she offered a reassuring smile. Not that Ilke scared easily. Apparently, she had informed Rolf she was pregnant and somehow talked him into offering her a job.

  Ilke definitely had the brains for this, but it remained to be seen if she had the disposition. Devon was an excellent litmus test. Her titanium spine was exactly the reason Vivien admired her, but it was precisely her refusal to put up with shit that made her a challenge to be around.

  “Devon owns Roadside Renovations. You’ll see the logo on the white overalls most of her workers wear. Their time is money so we don’t waste it with chit-chat.”

  “I’ve met her,” Ilke said, tacking on a deadpan, “Briefly.”

  Vivien smiled. “Occasionally suppliers call the lodge looking for her or someone on her crew. The list of their names is here with her cell number so you can pass along the message.”

  Marvin came out of the manager’s office.

  “Good morning.” Vivien turned to greet him, preparing to explain Ilke’s presence at the desk.

  “Yes, uh, good morning, ladies.” He scratched what might have been a comb-over if it didn’t stick out on both sides and extend from a center part like drapes pulled back on a picture window. “Excuse me. I have to find Glory.”

  After Devon had marched out looking like a cement mixer with a load to dump?

  “Actually, I need to speak with you.” Vivien touched his chest to keep him from brushing past her.

  His physique always surprised her, being far firmer than his sloppy sweaters and baggy pants let on.

  He looked at her hand. A blush crept into his cheeks.

  She flirted with Marvin all the time. Charmed him, she liked to think, as she did with any man. Like most men, he lit up under a woman’s attentions, but with the close quarters of living in the lodge and now starting to work more closely alongside him, she should probably dial it back. She didn’t want to lead him on. She was wily, not wicked, and he seemed to grow flustered enough. He could be nursing a crush already.

  Or he might be flustered for some other reason, since he looked beyond her with a distracted expression. “Let me ask Glory to help with something first.”

  Marvin leans so hard on Glory he pushes her out the door.

  “This can’t wait,” Vivien told him firmly. “Ilke, can you handle the phones for a few minutes? If it’s not something you know how to answer, tell them you’re with a guest and will call them right back, then take their number.”

  Ilke nodded and reached to straighten a few things on the desk.

  “Why is Ilke answering the phone?” Marvin cast the young woman a look that sent his bushy eyebrows into combat over his sharp gray eyes.

  “Because you need help,” Vivien said, sweeping him back into his office and closing the door.

  “Did Rolf say that? I really don’t, Vivien.”

  “Devon looked unhappy. Is there a problem?” She glanced at the leather-bound checkbook on his desktop.

  Marvin opened his hands. “Her draw didn’t show up in her account. I have no idea…” He waved at the computer. “She’ll quit if she isn’t paid on time. I had to write a check on the spot. She’s running into Haven to deposit it. I know the balance in the account will cover it, but Glory will have to look into it. I don’t want to pay Devon twice.”

  Ah, Devon. Vivien had to respect that hard ass of hers.

  “Devon will let you know if she is overpaid. Let’s sit.” Vivien gave his upper arm a pat, trying to get hi
m to move behind his desk. She was again surprised by the vitality she found in his muscle tone.

  She shouldn’t be that taken aback. He moved cases of wine and boxes of tiles without effort or reluctance, always quick to pitch in with any task. She had never, ever, wanted to marry a man who worked with his hands, but the physical benefits had to be appreciated.

  “Rolf told you he asked me to help you?” she began.

  Marvin collected himself with a deep breath, then moved to stand behind his desk. “He mentioned something. And if you’re willing to cover the front desk now and again, I won’t turn you down.”

  “He wants me to take a more active role.”

  “Really not necessary, Vivien. I have everything under control.”

  The darling was waiting for her to sit. Such a delight to come across old-world manners like that. She sank into the chair, folding her hands in her lap before looking pointedly at the checkbook, almost sorry she had to draw attention to his struggles.

  “It doesn’t sound like everything is under control.”

  Another sigh and his chair gave one too as he sank into it. “I can’t help that I’m an old dog. There’s a lot to do and more is added every day. With Macy walking out, a few things slipped through the cracks. But if you’d like to place the ad for a new manager, and help with the interviewing again, I would be grateful.”

  “Of course. I’ll do that today,” Vivien said, trying to spare the man’s ego. “This is my fault. The women I keep hiring are book smart and man stupid. My son is the one causing this problem. Let me make it up to you by doing more.”

  “I don’t blame you. Or Trigg.”

  No, Trigg was the only person who believed Marvin could make a go of this lodge. With Oskar dying when Trigg was so young, and Rolf being so self-involved and contentious, it didn’t surprise her that Trigg appreciated Marvin’s warm, fatherly encouragement. When it came to going after what looked impossible on a wing and a prayer, they were cut from the same cloth. The difference was, Trigg had the tenacious, dynamic personality to turn anything to his favor whereas Marvin was…well, he wasn’t nearly as pigheaded. Not in the right way.

  Not that he didn’t try to put her off with a kindly spoken, “You already have a lot to do with planning the wedding.”

  “I do,” she agreed. “Number one is to ensure the venue will be ready. Rolf is concerned and has a right to be.”

  “Devon will get it done.” Marvin tugged his ear. “It’s not like we don’t have the money. I checked. I signed off on all the month’s bills. Macy was supposed to make the payments happen. I guess she didn’t push the button before she left. I’ve settled up with Devon and need Glory to show me what to do about the rest.”

  “You managed last fall, when Glory disappeared to Seattle,” she reminded him. “You don’t need her today.”

  He opened his mouth.

  “Marvin,” she cut in firmly, debating the most diplomatic way to frame this, then chose to be expedient rather than tactful. “We both know we have to pick our battles when it comes to refusing Rolf. Let’s not start with one we’ll lose.”

  “It’s this new system. If I didn’t have so many balls in the air, I could take the time to learn it, but right now it would be faster if Glory did it.”

  “Please. Allow me. I’ve never had any complaints about the way I handle balls.” It was one more dry, suggestive comment to go with the thousands of others she had used in four decades of maintaining the upper hand with a man.

  Marvin blushed and cleared his throat, proving it had worked.

  But, oddly, she felt embarrassed at resorting to it. Like she was issuing bigger checks than she had any intention of cashing. Her cheeks grew hot with chagrin—not her usual color.

  “We’re on the same team,” she said, trying to neutralize the sexual awareness. “We both want the wedding to go off without a hitch. I’ll place the ad, then make a call to the software company. I’m sure customer service can walk us through what to do.”

  “Fine. Go place the ad.” He gave his scalp a distressed scrabble with his fingers, which was part of the problem with the hair. He might have run a comb through it this morning, but any sense of order was long gone.

  Something in her panged as she watched him make a face at the checkbook and the computer monitor. It wasn’t maternal. It wasn’t sexual. It was an empathy that came from being someone who had been surrounded her whole life by strong personalities and tasks that were a tiny bit beyond her. She had developed ways to deal with all of that, but Marvin’s way of dealing with it—with her—was a smile and a promise of assurance while he tried to get rid of her so he could worry about the problem on his own.

  “It will be all right, Marvin. If you let me help you,” she told him.

  “Of course, it will.” He straightened in a way that told her his male pride was stung.

  “Let’s start with the call to the software company, then. Do you have the number?”

  “I can manage this,” he insisted, but she only held his gaze, silently telling him she wasn’t leaving the room.

  After holding his breath a long few seconds, he expelled it and his shoulders fell. “Fine. I have the number written here somewhere.”

  On a piece of paper? She mentally sighed.

  “There’s usually something under the help section. Is the program open? Let’s start there.”

  *

  Nate showered and headed downstairs to meet Rolf. He’d been at the base all day, first blocking off access with a snow fence, then eventually getting into the office trailer once Chief Adams arrived and had a look around.

  He and the laborers had managed to cover the worst of the turkey kill with a tarp before the helicopter took off. The chopper had been diverted to pick up the skiers from the parking lot of the lodge, rather than coming down here for a look at the modest, yet growing heart of the resort’s operations.

  Eventually the mess outside had been cleaned up and the stained snow pushed to a spot under some tree boughs. Nate had then sent one of the laborers to spray-paint over the profanities on the office trailer. It was presentable, at least.

  Now he was supposed to dine and mingle with the investors, answering questions about the project, but Rolf had radioed earlier to say he wanted an update on the investigation first.

  The skiers always finished their day by coming back via the run that angled off the resort hill, behind the pond, and into the back of the lodge. Nate had heard voices and stomping feet on the balcony below his as he’d been dressing. He expected Rolf was here on the ground floor, looking for him.

  When he got to the lobby, however, the sight of Ilke behind the reception desk halted him. She had her blonde hair loose, but tucked behind her ears. She held a highlighter pen in her hand and frowned at a piece of paper she held.

  Sexual need kicked him hard. There was no big mystery over how he’d got her pregnant. She was so stunning, it strummed through him like a musical chord.

  When was the last time you had sex?

  When she had thrown that at him last night, he’d realized very uncomfortably that she had been his most recent lover. He was a man with a healthy sexual appetite, but even though he’d had an overnight errand in Billings a few weeks ago, he hadn’t seen anyone in the hotel bar who’d measured up to what he was looking for.

  He hadn’t seen her. She was what he had unconsciously been searching for.

  No. That was his inner sex fiend thinking every night with a woman should be an endurance event. It wasn’t, didn’t have to be, and for all he knew, Trigg had spiked the champagne with Spanish fly that night, making his libido unstoppable.

  Even so, Nate could usually keep it in his pants around even the most well-endowed and scantily dressed women. Today, one glimpse of Ilke’s tongue poking out the corner of her mouth and he started growing wood. It was annoying as hell, which put a gruff edge on his tone.

  “What are you doing?” He had really hoped she had decided not to stick around. />
  She started, pulled from deep concentration. As their eyes met, a pretty flush went over her features, one that signaled a reciprocation of physical reaction and dialed his own internal thermostat up a few more notches. Which irritated. He’d been busy as hell today, bordering on relieved to have a crisis filling up his head since it hadn’t left any room for dwelling on the crisis she represented.

  But damned if she wasn’t a problem he had no idea how to solve.

  The frustration in his expression caused the color in her to fade as quickly as it rose. Her mouth pursed in a hint of hurt, but then a cool stiffness swept over her features. Her gaze went to the paper in her hand. Her gaze became flat and standoffish.

  “Apparently every sack of coffee and case of toilet paper that comes into this building is counted. If the numbers received match the invoice, it should be approved for payment.”

  “You’re working?” How the hell had that happened? She couldn’t stay here, waistline slowly expanding into the flagship on the armada of his questionable decisions.

  “I am,” she confirmed. “But only until Trigg seduces me. He’s not due back for a few days, though, so…”

  “Hilarious.” He grew even more testy at the idea of her with Trigg. Rolf was bad enough. Infuriating.

  “How was your day?” Ilke asked, but facetiously.

  “Lousy.”

  “I heard.”

  There was genuine empathy in her gaze as she said that. “I don’t know much about it, but…” She pointed at the spot where she stood. “Could it have been the woman who quit?”

  He gave the back of his head a rub and glanced around. The place was enough of a rumor mill without fueling it by speaking out of turn.

  “She’s on the list, but quit a few days ago and wasn’t really the type to get her hands dirty. She’ll get a call from the police, but it’s pretty likely she left for personal reasons.”

  A small crash in the dining room had him glancing in that direction.

  The dinner smells were making his stomach cramp. He was starving, having missed lunch, and would kill for a beer. Marvin was behind the bar. He should go get one, but for some reason, his feet didn’t move. He brought his gaze back to hers, finding her watching him with apprehensive shadows in her eyes.