Crossing the room, her footsteps echoed eerily on the wooden floor as she left the great room and headed toward the bedroom. At the door, she realized that she couldn’t go in, so she stood in the entry and stared at the king-size four poster bed, freshly made and inviting. She was unable to keep her mind from whirling back to the kisses and caresses and the sensual embraces they had shared among the sheets. She could still feel Mark’s warm flesh against hers, still taste his lips, his chest, his hard flat stomach. Her eyes traveled over the red star-patterned quilt, the fluffy soft pillows, the extra blanket that he always kept draped across the end rail.
We made love there and made promises to each other, too, but all I have now is a deep pain of longing that will not go away. What happened to those promises? Can we ever make it right? Would Mark listen to me if I tried?
Blinking back tears, Skylar forced herself to thoroughly inspect the rest of the cabin, to be sure it was ready for new guests. With each curtain she drew back and each drawer she pulled open, the wound of losing Mark was made fresh again.
Now, I’ve got to tell Mr. Overton that the suite will cost four times as much as the room his wife cancelled, and that means another nasty conversation, she calculated, dreading the encounter.
Pushing that thought aside, she moved toward the front door, preparing to leave, and then turned to give the place a final sweep. Standing at the door, she hesitated, a thought entering her mind. She’d let the Overtons have the Snow King Suite for free for the weekend, she decided. They’d had a fight, but they’d made up. They had managed to overcome whatever their problems had been and seemed as close as any couple could be. Obviously, they were still very much in love after six years of marriage. Why not let them have a special memory of their reconciliation? People in love deserved a break, she reasoned.
“Deena would have done the same thing, I’m sure,” Skylar commented to herself, wishing that she and Mark could have solved their problems by simply going away for a romantic reunion.
With that settled, Skylar went to the phone and called Victor at the front desk to make the arrangements for the Overton’s luggage to be brought to the cabin. As soon as she hung up the phone, it rang again and she picked it up, expecting it to be Victor.
“Hello. Victor?”
“No, it’s Richard Nobel. I thought I was calling Mark Jorgen’s suite.”
“Oh, hello, Richard. This is Skylar Webster. You are calling his suite, but Mark isn’t here anymore.”
“Oh, really? Well, I’m surprised. Where is he?”
“You can reach him at the St. Regis Hotel. He’s working there now.”
“Hmm, sorry he left Scenic Ridge. What happened?”
“I really can’t say. You’d better talk to him.”
“I will. I’ll give him a call over there.”
“Richard, how’s the documentary coming?”
“Oh, my…Mark didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Skylar asked, moving to sit on the sofa, detecting a note of disappointment in Richard’s voice.
“It’s been canned,” Richard said, going on to fill Skylar in.
Skylar was hurt and shocked to learn that Virina had pulled her investors out after viewing the initial footage. The selfish snob! To think that she would ruin her son’s chance to have a film made about his life just because she didn’t want to share the spotlight with Scenic Ridge. What kind of a mother was she?
“Yeah, Virina left me hanging,” Richard continued. “I’m stuck with a half-finished film and a bunch of folks who are threatening to sue me. It’s a real nightmare, Skylar. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Slumping down on the sofa, Skylar listened as Richard continued to detail his problems, feeling sorry for him and sorry for Mark, too. He’d lost out on his chance to have his career documented for future generations of young ski enthusiasts. However, she was proud that Mark had stood up to his mother by insisting that Scenic Ridge be included in his story.
“So, the documentary can’t get made unless you get financing?” she clarified.
“Yep, that’s about it,” he replied.
“How much money are you talking?”
“A lot,” Richard replied. “More than you have, I’m sure,” he jokingly added.
“Don’t be too sure, Richard. I have something in mind that might work in your favor. I’d like to explore some possibilities. Can you come up to Scenic Ridge so we can talk?”
“Are you serious? You think you can find the money to finish the film?”
“Yes, I think so. And yes, I’m very serious, Richard. How soon can you get here?”
“I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Good, e-mail your itinerary to me and I’ll make sure there’s a rental car reserved for you at the airport. And don’t contact Mark, not yet. “
“You know, Skylar, Mark’s mother put too many restrictions on me and I’m glad she’s out of the picture. If you find the money and I push real hard, we might be able to complete the film by the end of next month.”
“Get ready to push,” Skylar told Richard. “And push hard. I’m just glad I got to you before you spoke to Mark.”
Chapter 27
When Goldie placed her final air-kiss on Bitsy Brown’s cheek and closed the door behind the soft drink heiress, Mark realized that he was the last guest remaining in the suite. The party had been a nonstop swirl of overdressed women and well-heeled men who had come and gone throughout the evening, stopping only long enough to drop a famous name or two, take a few quick sips of champagne, and give everyone within listening distance a brief overview of their latest acquisition, trip abroad or social event.
Mark had found it all very boring, and had taken refuge at the bar with a bottle of Grey Goose Vodka and a bowl of Russian caviar while making only the most cursory attempts at interacting with the over-eager, socially connected women who were currently in town—alone and looking for companionship.
Virina had swept in with a race car driver from Miami on her arm, making a splashy entrance that got everyone’s attention. She had vigorously worked the room in a stunning, silver Versace dress, making sure everyone knew that her son was now a part of the St. Regis family and that she was back into social circulation before dashing off to another party in the Paepcke suite at the Little Nell.
Mark had been relieved to see her go, and just as relieved to learn that she apparently had a new man in her life: a rich man whose face regularly appeared on the covers of all the sports magazines. Maybe now his mother would keep her nose out of his affairs and concentrate on her own.
“Thank God. Alone at last,” Goldie remarked with a roll of her eyes as she leaned onto the bar and slid both of her hands across the smooth, black granite. “I thought Bitsy would never shut up. I swear that woman talks like she’s got a tape recorder stuck in her head, spewing out all that stuff about Muffin’s divorce. How did she ever get access to all those details?”
Shaking his head, Mark tossed back another shot of vodka, feeling no pain. At last, he was numb, from his head to his feet, and the ache in his heart didn’t burn so much. He didn’t care if he ever felt anything again.
“Come on, let’s sit on the sofa, by the fire. We haven’t had any time to catch up,” Goldie urged, taking Mark by the hand.
He didn’t resist when she led him to the sofa and pulled him down next to her. In fact, the soft cushions felt a whole lot better than the hard bar stool he’d been sitting on all evening, and Mark quickly settled down, flinging back his head and closing his eyes. Damn, it felt good to simply let go. He liked the feeling of floating, drifting, spinning off into a netherworld where he didn’t have to think about anything. If only he could stay in such a state forever and never come back to the reality of his situation. What was there to look forward to anyway? Only a hell of a hangover and an empty hotel room.
Just as he was about to sink into that soft dark place that would take him away from his worries, he felt Goldie’s lips cover h
is. Her tongue darted quickly between his lips and she began to explore his mouth with tiny soft jabs, while her hands massaged his thighs. He could feel her firm small breasts rubbing against his chest and her knees were pressing into his side.
Her aggressive move caught Mark by surprise, and he jerked back at first but then relaxed. Whatever she was doing didn’t alarm him enough to push her away. He wasn’t crazy and he certainly wasn’t offended by Goldie’s decision to act on feelings he had always suspected had been simmering in her for quite a while.
Their kiss deepened. Her hands strayed from his legs to his sudden erection and remained there, gently stroking, pleasantly teasing him until he knew he was going to burst.
Mark’s fingers, seeming to move on their own, found their way to the buttons of Goldie’s sweater and it took only seconds for him to free one breast, then the other. With a groan, he buried his face in the folds of her sweater and squeezed his eyes shut.
Goldie pressed her hands against the back of Mark’s head, pinning him to her in an urgent clasp. Mark captured one hard nipple between his lips, inhaling as he savored it, almost tasting the saccharine sweetness of Goldie’s expensive perfume. Electric Orchid. How could he forget?
Unexpectedly, her scent jolted him back to the day when he had struggled with Goldie during her first ski lesson. She’d smashed her glasses against a tree. Then, their trip to Gorsuch the next day, where he’d first met Skylar while she was trying on goggles.
Skylar. Thinking about her initiated a sob that rose in Mark’s throat and made him tense. He missed her with an intensity that was alarming, and he didn’t want Goldie as a substitute for the woman he longed to be with tonight. Skylar. He might have walked out of her life, but he damn well couldn’t get her out of his mind.
The admission snapped him back to reality. Lifting his head, he pushed away from Goldie and looked at her with bleary, sad eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled, realizing that he was going to have one hell of a headache tomorrow. “Can’t do this. Gotta go.” He stumbled to his feet, lurched to the door and without saying good-bye, he left.
Chapter 28
When Richard arrived at Scenic Ridge, Skylar put him in the Vista View suite, Virina’s former cabin, and settled down with him to watch the first cut of the film. She absolutely loved what Richard had created. She loved the look of the piece, the music he had selected, the photos and early video of Mark’s youthful beginnings, his rigorous training schedule, his career, his role as an instructor and his many achievements on the slopes.
She was just as impressed with Virina’s skill at managing him, and got a better understanding of the depth of the bond between Mark and his mother. As a young woman, Virina had recognized her son’s talent at an early age, and then had dedicated her time, her skill and a good portion of her life to making Mark an Olympian. And she had succeeded. Virina had every right to be proud of Mark and of herself, too, for playing such an important role in his eventual success.
The piece on Scenic Ridge was just as inspiring and informational, too. As Skylar listened to Deena talk about the difficulties she and Jerome had faced as they’d struggled to carve their dream out of an isolated mountaintop, her eyes filled with tears. She envied Deena, who had everything that Skylar longed for—a man who loved her, trusted her and had shared his dream with her—which had come true because they had worked together to make it happen.
“The film is very well done,” Skylar commented when it ended. “There doesn’t seem to be a lot left to do.”
“Not much,” Richard agreed. “Needs titles, some graphic work and better scoring in places. And with a final professional edit to bring it in line with the station’s on-air segments, it would be ready to go.”
“If everything went smoothly, when could it air?”
“Oh, a matter of weeks. Black Showcase is just waiting for me to deliver. The promotional package is ready to go, as long as Mark is still on board. He’ll have to agree to get out on the road and push this to make it a success.”
“I’m sure he will, once he sees this. So, I think you can get busy and make it happen,” Skylar said, anxious to dig in.
“How? You know something you’re not telling me? We need cash to get this done.”
Reaching into her purse, Skylar removed her checkbook and waved it in Richard’s face. “It’s all right here. Every penny you’re gonna need to create a top rate film. I’m producing now.”
With a dubious squint, Richard tilted his head to one side. “You’re producing? You’ve got to be kidding me. Okay, Skylar. Fill me in. What’s this about?”
Richard was shocked when Skylar told him about her settlement and revealed that she was a very wealthy woman with money to invest. And he was pleased that she planned to put some of it in to his project. With no additional investors involved, he knew they would be able to move quickly.
“The fewer hands in the pot, the better,” he later told Skylar, “and I will definitely list you in the credits as producer of the Mark Jorgen Story.”
Over the next two days, Skylar and Richard spent many hours at Vista View hammering out details to finish the film. Once Skylar had contacted Mr. Ray at Tampa Commerce Bank and arranged for the transfer of the necessary funds, it was time for Richard to head back to New York to finalize the project.
“Will we need any additional releases from Mark?” Skylar wanted to know, aware that they couldn’t pull this off without Mark’s full cooperation.
“Not really,” Richard replied, snapping shut his briefcase. “His original contract gives me the right to produce the piece, no matter who finances it.” He draped a wool scarf around his neck and then slipped his arms into his coat. “However, I’m going to stop by the St. Regis and visit with Mark before I head to the airport. I need to make sure his commitment is firm and that he will still promote it once we get to that point. He’s gotta be okay with the licensing deals I’m proposing, too.”
“Then you’ve talked to him?” Skylar asked, following Richard out to his rental car. She was excited for Mark, but anxious, too. What if he refused to be involved in the film because she had put up the money? She could lose her investment. She had committed a very large chunk of her money to this. What if it didn’t sell? What if no one found it as interesting as she did? What if she was making a bad investment?
Mr. Ray’s words of caution came back to her: Your money will last if you invest wisely. Well, she believed in Mark, and loved him so much. What better investment could there be?
“Yes, I spoke to him this morning. He was extremely relieved, and pleased, that I’d found a new financial backer,” Richard replied, shaking Skylar’s hand.
“Did you tell him it was me?”
“No, not yet. But I will.”
“I hope it won’t be a deal breaker,” Skylar told him, praying she was doing the right thing.
Chapter 29
Mark put the cap back on his gas tank, gave it a firm twist and then slipped the gas pump’s nozzle back into place, eager to get going. It was a beautiful, sunny morning, and his first free day since he’d started working at the St. Regis almost a month ago. No ski lessons today, no sitting around his hotel room between students, and no more dodging Goldie Lamar, who had given up on him and taken off for Reno with her cousin. Even Virina was happily involved with the race car driver who was busily escorting her around town, so she no longer hovered over Mark, asking if he was okay.
Of course, I’m okay, he thought sarcastically. I have a good job, I’m living in a beautiful hotel, surrounded by beautiful, fun-loving people. What more could I want?
Skylar, that’s what, he silently admitted, hating the surge of emptiness that hit him whenever he thought about her. All the late-night parties, hard drinking and pretty women in the world couldn’t keep him from missing her.
When Mark awakened this morning, he had known what he wanted to do: go someplace far away from the smothering confines of the hotel, and away from the guests who were relentless in their r
equests to get free pointers from him on how to improve their technique on the powder. He was going to drive up to Glenwood Springs to spend a few hours at the hot springs pool, where he could be alone and think over his plan.
The ski season was winding down. The television premier of the Mark Jorgen Story was set to air on BES this Saturday night, and on Sunday he was leaving Aspen for New York to begin a round of media interviews. From there, who knew where things would go?
Mark had spoken to Richard last week to finalize this first leg of the promotional tour, and though he remained annoyed that Skylar had financed the film, he planned to use this opportunity to bolster the sport of skiing, change young people’s lives and, hopefully, make enough money to establish his own ski school and pay Skylar back.
Finished pumping gas, he walked around to the front of his SUV and pulled back the windshield wipers, preparing to clean the windows. When he glanced over at the pump next to his, he saw a red Jeep pull up. His heart thudded under his jacket as he watched Skylar get out of her car, only a few feet away. He froze, one hand in midair as he stared at her, wondering if he dared approach her. The sun bounced off her shiny black locks and put a golden sheen on her smooth tan skin. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered and all he wanted to do was rush over, grab her and kiss those luscious lips.
When she reached for the gas pump, she looked up and saw him right away.
He nodded curtly, unable to speak.
She nodded back and lifted her jaw.
Mark returned to cleaning his windows, though he was paying absolutely no attention to what he was doing.
“You missed a spot,” Skylar called over to him, craning her neck around the gas pump that separated them.
His head snapped around and he glared over at her, and then mumbled, “Yeah. Thanks,” before swishing the plastic tool across the slippery glass.
“I’m looking forward to seeing Richard’s film on TV Saturday,” Skylar said, her voice cool and calm.
Suite Embrace Page 21