by Astor, Marie
“That sounds great, Jeffrey.” Maggie had never seen Jeffrey so fired up about anything. “But are you sure it’s safe? It sounds really dangerous. What if someone gets hurt?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. That’s why I’m having Charlie come along. He drafted an ironclad contract that absolves me and the network of any legal responsibility, so we’re all good there.”
Maggie bit her lip. She was not about to start an argument with her fiancé over some ski nut she knew nothing about. It sounded like both parties would be getting what they wanted, and she had no business sticking her nose into Jeffrey’s job.
“That reminds me, I have to make some last minute changes to the script.” Jeffrey got up from his seat and opened his laptop case. “Have you brought anything to read?” asked Jeffrey, peering intently at his laptop screen.
“I’ll be fine,” Maggie murmured. By now she had made peace with fact that Jeffrey was a workaholic. If some people worked to live, Jeffrey definitely lived to work. But then his work was fascinating: he had just been made executive producer at one of the leading cable networks, and his last two shows had received numerous awards – a remarkable feat given the fact that Jeffrey was not yet thirty. Of course, the fact that Jeffrey’s father was the chairman of the network might have helped things along a little bit, but Jeffrey preferred to omit this detail of his biography whenever possible. Still, one fact remained: while Jeffrey’s shows might not be incredibly original, they were commercially successful, which was what the network wanted.
“You can have one of these!” offered Bethany, producing a plethora of wedding magazines. She and Charlie were sitting across the aisle from Maggie and Jeffrey.
“Thanks.” Maggie grabbed one of the glitzy covers.
Learn the Secret of Being the Perfect Bride, the headline read. Maggie wrinkled her forehead as she leafed through the magazine: drop-dead gorgeous women stared at her from every page, as if eyeing her appraisingly with their condescending gazes.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be arriving in Vancouver in thirty minutes,” the voice on the receiver announced. “Please turn off all electronic devices and fasten your seatbelts.”
“Wake up, Maggie.” Jeffrey nudged Maggie’s shoulder, as he turned off his laptop.
“What time is it?” asked Maggie; she had not realized that she had dozed off.
“It’s five p.m. local time. You’ve slept through the entire flight.”
“Did you get any sleep?” Still groggy, she pushed up her seat, trying to gather her bearings.
“Nah, I was working the whole time, making last minute changes to the script.”
“I’m feeling guilty now.”
“Don’t be. I love my job.” Jeffrey winked.
Right outside the airport exit, parked along the curb, a steel-gray limo awaited them.
“Compliments of the network,” Jeffrey announced proudly as he ushered Maggie into the limo.
The town of Eagleville was an hour and a half drive away from Vancouver. Once they left the city behind, the long, clumsy limo etched its way up the slender highway, and breathtaking views opened on either side of the car windows. It was late in the day, but the sun was still bright enough to illuminate the fresh, white snow that covered the tops of the surrounding mountains.
The car rode on for what seemed like an eternity, until it made a series of turns, stopping in front of a brightly lit wooden building. Even though the hotel building was shaped as a casual lodge, it was obvious that this was a five-star establishment.
“It’s beautiful!” exclaimed Maggie, getting out of the car. “It looks like a fairy tale!” And it truly did: the hotel and the massive pine trees around it were shrouded in a cloth of soft, powdery snow. Outside fireplaces cast a soft glow of light around them and filled the air with the smell of burning firewood.
“Well, of course it is. It’s the Ritz!” Jeffrey put his arm around Maggie. “It’s the best hotel in the resort - just wait and see what it looks like inside.”
Jeffrey’s promise held true; the hotel interior was magnificent, and perhaps even a bit overdone: a huge deer-horn candelabrum hung from the lofty ceiling; everywhere there were rugs and fur skins. The place might have looked like a lodge from the outside, but inside it was more like a palace.
“Good evening, Mr. Preston. It is a pleasure to have you with us again.” The hotel manager greeted them at the reception desk. “Perhaps some hot chocolate to refresh you after your trip?”
Jeffrey shook his head. “No, thank you, Tony, but a suite upgrade would be appreciated.”
“Let me see what I can do, sir,” Tony enunciated his words crisply, as his manicured fingers flew over the keyboard. “Oh, yes, perfect! We have two luxury suites available and I will be glad to offer a complimentary upgrade to you and your friends.”
“Thank you, Tony. That is much appreciated.” Jeffrey slipped a fifty-dollar bill on the desk.
“Wonderful. Here are your room keys, sir. Enjoy your stay and do not hesitate to call me for anything.” Tony smiled obsequiously, sliding the fifty into his pocket. “Your skis and boots will be taken down to the ski concierge so you can pick them up there tomorrow morning.”
“Here you go, Charlie,” said Jeffrey, thrusting the room key into Charlie’s hand. “A suite upgrade, compliments of the network.”
“You are the man!” Charlie beamed. “Dinner is on me tonight.”
“I think we’ll turn in early tonight.” Jeffrey inspected his watch. “I want to be up bright and early tomorrow to make the first tracks. You’re on for tomorrow night, though.”
“Sounds good. You know me - I’m always up for a good dinner. Good night then. See you tomorrow on the slopes.”
“You bet. Let’s meet in the lobby at seven a.m., sharp?” Jeffrey clarified, ever vigilant to dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s.
“See you then.” Charlie smiled bravely, his shoulders sagging at the prospect of such an early start on his first day of vacation.
“Isn’t this great?” murmured Jeffrey, nuzzling Maggie’s neck while they rode the elevator to their suite on the top floor. “And the best part is that I have you all to myself.” Jeffrey put his arms around her.
The elevator doors opened and they exited on their floor.
“Voila!” Jeffrey flung open the door to their suite.
“Jeffrey! These rooms are huge. We could get lost in here!”
“I aim to please.” Jeffrey beamed.
“Look, we even have our own fireplace!” Maggie plopped onto the pillowed bed. “What do you say we order some room service and snuggle by the fire?”
“Okay, sure, but we won’t stay up late. I want to hit the slopes bright and early tomorrow.”
“I’m just going to take a quick shower,” she whispered. “Don’t you go anywhere.”
When Maggie emerged from the shower several minutes later, she found that Jeffrey was no longer in the living room. “Honey, where are you?” she cooed, wondering if Jeffrey had decided on a game of peek-a-boo.
Her anticipation mounting, she tiptoed her way to the bedroom, and was greeted with the sound of Jeffrey’s measured snoring. His clothes were splattered all over the floor, and Jeffrey was sound asleep on the bed.
Oh well, Maggie thought, as she climbed in next to Jeffrey, quietly spooning her body against the contours of his back, it’s been a long day and there is always tomorrow.
Chapter 4
Maggie burrowed her head in the softness of the pillow, enjoying the feel of the smooth sheets against her skin. “What time is it?” she mumbled, as she heard Jeffrey moving around the room.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Jeffrey whispered, putting on his jacket. “It’s seven o’clock. Go back to sleep.”
“Why don’t you come back to bed?” Maggie murmured, pushing aside the covers.
“Can I take a rain check? I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight.” Jeffrey winked. “Charlie is waiting for me dow
nstairs, and I want to make the first tracks. I got these new skis that are supposed to take performance to a whole new level. You’ll join us later?” Jeffrey added in an afterthought.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Maggie assured him, thinking that presently, she would prefer it if Jeffrey would focus on a different kind of performance. Noticing Jeffrey’s impatience, she added, “Go on, Charlie must be waiting for you already.”
Jeffrey leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. “See you later, babe.”
“Have fun out there.” Maggie leaned back into the pillows, pulling the covers up to her chin as she listened to the sound of the closing front door. Sure, she liked skiing well enough, but she liked making love even better.
Well, if Jeffrey was more excited about trying out his new skis than staying in bed with her, Maggie had a few tricks up her sleeve that would be sure to keep him entertained. Pushing the covers back, Maggie climbed out of bed. She needed to get her ski legs back.
Half an hour later, Maggie was on her way to the slopes. She toyed with the idea of calling Bethany, but rejected it, guessing that Bethany would not be up before at least eleven, and would likely prefer staying in the spa to being on the snow.
Outside the sun was shining brightly and it was still early enough for the slopes to be crowd free, with only a few people standing in line to board the main gondola. Maggie unfolded the trail map, trying to determine the best place to begin.
“Is it your first day here?” A tall, lean man in a ski patrol jacket smiled at her.
Maggie nodded. “I was just looking for the best slopes to get my ski legs back.”
“Are you a strong skier?” The man eyed her appraisingly.
Maggie blushed. “I don’t know about that, but I usually ski on double blues and blacks.”
“In that case, I would start with the Cream of Wheat and go onto Sunnyside. If you manage them, you can go on to Cherry Icing.”
“Sounds like a nice breakfast combination.”
“Breakfast and dessert - it sure is a nice way to start the day. Have fun out there!”
Maggie climbed into the gondola and looked through the windows, thinking that she might spot Jeffrey and Charlie on the slopes underneath, but saw no sign of them. Come to think of it, it was probably for the best: this way she could ski to her heart’s content, at least for a short while. If there was one thing that Maggie knew about Jeffrey, it was that he hated being outshined. She still remembered the look of irritated surprise on Jeffrey’s face during their weekend trip to Aspen last winter when she had raced down a black diamond head to head with him. Afterwards, Jeffrey was sour-faced for the rest of the day and chided Maggie about being careless. Well, Jeffrey may have his flaws, but no one is perfect, Maggie thought. Every guy she had ever dated, not that there had been that many, exhibited the need for dominance. So what if she had to slow down a bit to make Jeffrey feel better? It was a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.
Maggie turned her attention to the trail map. Eagleville was considered to be one of the biggest ski resorts in the world, and after studying the trail map Maggie had to agree: she had already been on the gondola for ten minutes and the top of the mountain was still a long way off. Finally, the gondola pulled into the offloading station. In the middle of the platform stood a huge sign showing the direction of each trail.
“Cream of Wheat it is,” said Maggie, turning her skis in the direction of the recommended slope.
The snow conditions were perfect: without a hint of ice, the trail still had patches of corduroy where the snow cats had groomed it last night.
Maggie edged her skis into the incline, willing her body into the familiar rhythm, as her skis glided on the smooth, buttery surface.
She had the slope all to herself and skied nonstop all the way to the end of the trail. There, she saw several smaller lifts going back to the mountaintop, and after having located the lift leading to Sunnyside, Maggie slid into the singles line for the chair lift. She had scarcely waited for a few minutes when a pleasant couple who looked to be in their late sixties motioned for her to join them.
“How are you enjoying your stay?” asked the woman, lifting her goggles, once they were seated on the chair lift.
“It’s wonderful!” exclaimed Maggie. “Today is my first day. Have you been here long?”
“Oh, we live here. We just took a break for the weekend. It’s our wedding anniversary,” replied Maggie’s neighbor. “We got married at the top of that ridge, right there, fifty years ago,” she continued, pointing to a towering cliff.
“That high up?” Maggie tilted her head to take a good look at the spot.
“Yes. And right after the ceremony, we both skied down the cliff that starts at the very top. It’s called Heaven Ridge because it is the highest peak in Eagleville.”
“You skied all the way up there?” asked Maggie in disbelief, her eyes glued to the towering mountain.
“Yes.” The woman nodded proudly. “We skied that line many times; of course, we were much younger then.”
“Quit bragging, Millie.” The woman’s husband chuckled. “Excuse my wife here, miss, she can’t help herself. I’m Phil, by the way, and my wife’s name is Millie – Phil and Millie Ratran.”
“Very nice to meet you. I’m Maggie, Maggie Robin. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to ski such terrain. I don’t think I could ever do it.”
“Sure you could, with enough practice and the right ski guide. If you’re interested in off-piste skiing, you should stop by the Owl Lodge. Phil and I run a ski school there, and we’ll be sure to give you a discount,” Millie added.
“Thank you. I’ll think about it.”
“Are you here all by yourself, Maggie?” Millie threw a sharp glance at Maggie.
“There she goes again.” Phil shook his head.
“I’m just trying to make a friendly conversation.” Millie flung her hands.
“I don’t mind,” said Maggie. Maggie laughed, amused by the mock bickering between the husband and wife that only made the affection between the two more apparent. “I’m here with my fiancé…”
“So you found your true love, then?” Millie interjected, as Phil shook his head in feigned disdain.
“My true love?” Maggie stammered, taken aback by the directness of the question.
“Yes, your true love. If you’re going to marry the fella, he must be your true love!”
“Yes, he is.” Maggie nodded curtly. This was indeed going too far.
“Oh, that’s too bad. If you were single, I would introduce you to our grandson.”
“Your grandson?” Maggie almost choked: this was beginning to feel like the longest lift ride ever.
“Now, you’ve done it, Millie!” Phil shook his head. “Please forgive my wife. She gets carried away at times. We don’t mean to be busybodies.”
“That’s all right.” Maggie pressed her lips together tightly, noticing with relief that the ski lift was finally approaching the offloading station.
“Please excuse my wife again,” apologized Phil, “she did not mean any harm. Well, thank you for putting up with us. Enjoy your day!”
“You too. It was nice meeting you.” Maggie forced a smile on her face as she prepared to get off the lift.
“Likewise, dear!” exclaimed Millie.
Finally, the chair lift pulled into the offloading station and Maggie slid off, heading for the turn that said Sunnyside. Cautiously, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure that she had shaken off the unwelcome company and caught a glance of Millie and Phil turning in the direction of the Cherry Icing. That’s what you get from talking to strangers, Maggie thought. Sure, New Yorkers had a well-known reputation for abruptness, but presently, she would gladly take that over the incessant chattiness. True love indeed, Maggie thought, filled with unexplainable irritation. The nerve of that woman!
Still fuming, Maggie cut her skis into the slope. Pushing off with her ski poles, she felt the air ring in
her ears as she plunged down the slope. The run had been recently groomed and Maggie’s skis darted down the corduroy surface.
When Maggie reached the bottom of the slope, she was breathless, but no longer angry. Endorphin-fueled euphoria pulsated though her body, making her almost lightheaded. This is better than being high. Maggie laughed giddily. Not that she had much experience in that department, her only brush with controlled substances being the one time that she took several drags of pot in college.
Time for something more challenging, thought Maggie and pointed her skis to the lift that led to Cherry Icing. This time, she shared a chair lift with a couple of teenage snowboarders who mercifully kept to themselves.
While riding on the lift, Maggie’s glance drifted toward the snow-wrapped peak of the Heaven Ridge. She squinted her eyes – could it be possible that someone was skiing up there now? Quickly, Maggie opened her backpack and reached for her camera: she did not have the slow shutter lens with her, but with any luck she was fairly certain that she could manage a fairly good shot.
As she zoomed into the mountain, Maggie knew that she had been correct: there was a solitary skier flying down the steep incline that wedged its way between the rocks. His neon jacket glistened in the sun, and his bright, golden hair was tied in a ponytail that bounced with his every turn. From such a distance it was impossible to see the skier’s face, but the outline of his body floating effortlessly down the vast snow looked like the embodiment of freedom. This was a magnificent shot, and Maggie feverishly snapped as many photos as she could until the skier disappeared from sight.
Despite the double black designation, the beginning of the Cherry Icing was less steep than that of the first two trails. This is going to be a piece of cake, thought Maggie until she saw a small cluster of skiers huddled at the top of the next turn. When she got closer to the group, Maggie immediately understood the reason behind their hesitation: after a deceptively easy start, Cherry Icing turned into an abrupt incline that plunged sharply downward. One by one, skiers stopped before this obstacle, taking their time to gather the necessary gumption to continue the descent.