Confessions of a Chalet Girl: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance Novella

by Lorraine Wilson

  ‘Let me guess, you’re not drinking because you’re pregnant?’ She laughed. When he didn’t smile, a marked apprehension crept into her eyes and he thought it was like clouds blotting out the sunshine.

  Yep, he had it bad.

  ‘Something terrible happened to my family a while ago, a year ago in fact, and it all got rather…well, horrific is the only word that really describes it.’ Scott sighed.

  ‘Oh?’ Holly's face paled and she seemed suddenly fragile in her oversize-toweling robe. Her reaction surprised him, although it was sweet of her to be so concerned.

  ‘I didn’t cope very well. I started drinking heavily as a way of coping and it got out of hand so…’ He broke off she got clumsily to her feet, scraping her chair back roughly as though she couldn’t wait to put some distance between them.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, perplexed. He couldn’t understand her white face, couldn’t understand why she was looking at him like that, as though he’d betrayed her.

  Accusation shone in her green eyes and he felt as shocked as though she'd slapped him.

  ‘I can’t do this Scott. I just can’t.’ Her hands trembled. ‘Please take me back to the chalet now? I’m going to get my clothes.’

  She wouldn’t meet his eye but stared at the floor as she spoke. ‘Sorry, I really mean it. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.’

  Then she turned and fled down the stairs in her eagerness to get away from him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Bile rose in Holly's throat. She felt sick to her bones, far worse than she had earlier in the helicopter. It was so bad she thought she might literally throw up on the side of the road or in the footwell of Scott’s Landrover if he didn’t stop to let her out.

  The grim set of Scott’s jaw and the taut silence between them increased her misery. She’d hurt him badly, she knew she had. The air crackled with unspoken anger and recriminations.

  What more do you expect? He spills his guts to you and you cut him off mid sentence and run away from him?

  You’re lucky he’s giving you a lift home.

  Scott didn’t say a word for the entire drive back to Chalet Repos. She spent the journey trying hard not to cry and concentrating on not being sick as her stomach churned and bitter bile rose up in her throat.

  There was no way round this. She couldn’t do it.

  She would never do it. Dating an alcoholic was her greatest personal taboo. It was perhaps the only criteria that would automatically scratch any guy off of her potentials list.

  Even if they were as drop dead gorgeous as Scott.

  Potentials list, huh! She was lying to herself if she was going to pretend Scott meant no more to her than her previous boyfriends or crushes.

  If it’s the right decision why do I feel so wretched?

  With great effort she held back the tears pressing heavily at her eyelids by squeezing her eyes shut.

  ‘Goodnight.’ She tried to get Scott’s attention as they turned separate ways in the Chalet Repos corridor.

  ‘Goodnight.’

  She shrank bank from the bitterness in his tone. There was a blank hardness to his expression that chilled her. Not only had he put the shutters down between them but he'd brought out the barbed wire and guard dogs too.

  ‘I’m sorry Scott,’ she apologised again to his retreating back but he didn’t turn in her direction or give any indication he’d heard.

  Choking back a sob, Holly rushed to the bathroom, the only place she could lock the door and make a call in private. Sinking down to the floor, back against the door, she pulled out her phone and dialled.

  ‘Hi.’ Pippa’s voice was sleepy.

  ‘Sorry, did I wake you?’ Holly tried to speak quietly so no one else in the chalet would hear her. Silent tears cascaded down her cheeks unchecked. It was as though she had taken her finger out of the hole in a dam and now there was nothing to stop the flood.

  ‘What’s up?’

  Thank God Pippa knew her. Thank God. Holly sobbed aloud then, a gut wrenching, animal type sob escaped despite her desperate attempts to keep it in.

  ‘Holly, talk to me, what’s wrong?’

  ‘I, I … I met someone,’ Holly choked out.

  ‘That's a good start. So what’s the problem then, is he married? Has another girlfriend?’

  ‘No, no, it’s nothing like that.’ Holly snuffled, grabbing some toilet paper to wipe her face. ‘He’s my boss - single, gorgeous and the best well, you know, I’ve ever had…’

  ‘Err, forgive me for not being quick on the uptake but where exactly is the problem?’

  ‘He doesn’t drink.’

  ‘Isn’t that a good thing? After all you don’t like heavy drinkers because of your mum.’ Pippa spoke slowly, as though to someone deeply deranged.

  To be fair 'deranged' was exactly how Holly felt at the moment. The hurt was utterly overwhelming. She tried to tell herself she'd hardly known him long but it didn't help.

  ‘I mean he doesn’t drink because he used to be an alcoholic.’ Holly sniffed and grabbed some toilet tissue to wipe her nose.

  ‘But he’s sober now?’ Pippa asked.

  ‘Yes, but that’s hardly the point.’ Holly couldn't keep the irritation out of her voice. She'd been sure Pippa would understand.

  ‘Why? Isn't it the point? Come on Holly, your mum is completely different. From what you've told me I don’t think she’s ever been sober, has she?’

  ‘No.’ Holly sniffed.

  ‘So, this guy is different. He isn’t drinking now which means he sorted himself out. He runs a business for goodness sake, doesn’t that say something to you about how different he must be to your mum?’

  ‘I suppose.’ Holly shredded the toilet paper in her hands into tiny bits, feeling very young and adrift on the tide of an emotion with the power of a Tsunami to wreck her life. ‘But what if he fell off the wagon? I just can’t go through it, I refuse to go through it again, Pips.’

  ‘I totally understand hun.’ Pippa’s tone was less brusque now. ‘But almost anything might happen. You could meet a guy tomorrow who seems perfectly sober but turns to drugs, or drink or other women when he faces some life tragedy. Anyone might drink Holly.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Holly drew her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs. The sense of what Pippa was saying seeped into her mind but her emotions lagged way behind, too immersed in the knee jerk reaction they’d instigated.

  ‘Look at it like this,’ Pippa urged. ‘What you hate about your mum is that she never tries to help herself and doesn’t want to. He's clearly the opposite of that and has beaten his demons with alcohol as far as we know. Do you even know if he was a full-blown alcoholic? Did he tell you why he started drinking? If you understood then maybe you’d be able to cope with it better.’

  ‘I don’t think he’ll ever speak to me again.’ The wet tide on Holly’s cheeks increased its pace again.

  ‘Make him listen. He obviously likes you a lot to tell you in the first place. He's your boss after all, so he took a big risk confiding in you. Think about it.’

  ‘I s’pose,’ she sighed. ‘I think I’ve messed up the best relationship I ever could have had.’

  ‘Don’t give up yet Holly, you can do this.’ Pippa’s tone hardened. ‘It really isn't like you to fold so easily.’

  Holly sighed again, a gulping, chest-heaving sigh that released a little of the tension she’d been accumulating since Scott’s speech. ‘Cheers Pips, you’re the best. How are you feeling anyway? Any more kicks from the bump?’

  ‘Yes, mostly at night. I think the baby’s going to be a night owl.’

  ‘I can’t wait to see the baby.’

  ‘Oh no you don’t,’ Pippa warned.

  ‘Don’t what?’ Holly tried to make her voice sound innocent.

  ‘You are not getting on a plane and coming back home. I won’t let you.’

  Rumbled.

  ‘But Pippa…’

  ‘I mean it. You sort things out with your boss first
and then you can have a cuddle with your new godchild but not before.’

  ‘Yes ma’am.’ Holly felt the first stirrings of a smile on her face.

  Thank goodness for best friends. And thank visa for the credit card she was going to have to use to pay her by now astronomical mobile phone bill!

  ***

  ‘What?’ Scott scowled at Magda who’d dared to interrupt his black thoughts by knocking at his office door.

  ‘The clients have been asking for you.’ Magda smiled, her red lipstick gleaming, obviously freshly applied for him.

  Scott sighed. ‘I’ll come out and chat to them at supper. Can’t you manage until then?’

  ‘Of course, you can trust me to handle things,’ she simpered. ‘Would you like me to make sure Holly is elsewhere for supper? After all, it’s clear you two are…not getting along.’

  The faux concern in her voice infuriated him and he swallowed down a surge of fury. It burned in his tight chest. He’d never shouted at his staff before but there was always a first time. How dare she?

  ‘No thank you Magda, there’s no problem. Whatever’s between me and Holly isn’t really up for general discussion. It’s private.’

  ‘Well, if there were a problem,’ she simpered silkily as though he hadn’t spoken, ‘and you’d like me to get rid of her, you only have to say.’

  ‘How very kind of you.’

  She didn’t appear to notice his sarcasm. Perhaps her thick skin came from all those layers of make-up she wore?

  A memory of Holly’s glowing face, bare of all make up as she swam in the thermal pools came to mind and it was all he could do to hold onto his composure. Holly had made her position extremely clear.

  He had to forget her.

  ‘You know the offer’s still there, whenever you fancy taking me up on it…’ Magda smiled again and he was left in no doubt as to which offer she was referring to.

  ‘No, I’m good thanks,’ he replied tersely, his eyes narrowed. ‘Now if there’s nothing else?’

  He turned back to his laptop and stared at the screen until he heard the door close. Then he cursed and closed the laptop with more force than was necessary. Damn, he hoped he hadn’t cracked it. He stared morosely at the door, still unable to believe how stupid he’d been.

  Rule one – Don’t date chalet girls.

  Rule two – Don’t dump emotional baggage on your first date, or your second or third .…

  Neither of the rules was exactly difficult to remember so why had he made an exception in Holly’s case? He’d never felt the need to tell his other girlfriends. In fact, before Holly he’d rather have extracted his own teeth than broach the subject.

  Holly’s different. She’s special.

  Yeah, so special she ran out on you just as you’d told her your most private secret, well tried to tell her. She didn’t even hear you out…

  She’d been the last person he imagined would judge him. It’d been a truly hellish time after Zoë’s death. His parents had barely spoken to each other except to snipe. He’d tortured himself by remembering Zoë’s pain; by wishing he’d insisted she go to the doctor sooner. He’d have dragged her along kicking and screaming if he’d known.

  Hindsight was a cruel tormentor.

  I could have saved her.

  The old accusation wormed its way back into his mind, slithering in the dark shadows. He took a deep breath. He’d conquered this once and he could stay strong again.

  I don’t need alcohol. I need Holly.

  Need or want? Who knew where the line lay when passion was involved? He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone. He craved her easy companionship in a way he’d never craved alcohol. He’d never found the peace he felt with Holly at the bottom of a bottle.

  Would he ever make love to her and laugh with her again?

  ‘Get over it,’ he growled, jaw tight and teeth clenched.

  He’d never felt the need to share his life with anyone before. Work had been his main focus, particularly since Zoë’s death. It had been his solace and his salvation.

  Yet somehow it didn’t now feel as satisfying as it once had. He thought of his plans for expansion into Italy but they just didn’t excite him today. He’d have to work even harder until it did the trick again. He lifted his laptop lid and opened his email.

  ***

  Holly chopped carrots, trying to concentrate on not cutting any of her fingers off and to not think about the wave of nausea threatening to make her retch. It was her turn to do supper tonight and Magda was doing dessert.

  Hmm, I wonder if Magda’s discovered the little surprise Steve’s prepared for her?

  She couldn’t imagine being able to swallow a single mouthful of the casserole she was preparing. There'd been a low level queasiness in her stomach ever since the night with Scott at the Thermal baths.

  Sharing a room with the others had made it impossible to hide her misery. Sophie had been sympathetic, Amelia less so, and Magda had been unable to hide the smug triumph dressed up in her own particular brand of pseudo-sympathy.

  Holly hadn’t told them much, but they all knew she’d been out with Scott for the evening and everyone had noticed they were barely talking or looking at each other since then. If Magda had been able to resist crowing to Amelia about how she’d arranged for Holly’s Facebook account to be hacked she might have got off… Luckily for Holly, Magda’s shrill tones carried a lot further than she realised.

  She’d considered going home. The situation wasn’t providing a nice holiday atmosphere for the guests after all. But she hadn’t saved up enough for a flat deposit back home yet, not for London rental prices anyway.

  Yet the thought of going back to London and never seeing Scott again had been unbearable. She’d tentatively tried to talk to Scott a couple of times but the fierce scowl that seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face lately had withered her words almost before they'd left her lips.

  She had to put an end to it tonight, one way or the other. She’d dealt with Magda and now it was time to sort things out with Scott. After supper she’d go to him and apologise properly. It’d been rude of her to run out on him when he’d gone to so much trouble. She would explain why her response had been so…dramatic and see where things went from there.

  The knife she was using slipped and she narrowly missed cutting her thumb.

  Concentrate Holly!

  It was impossible. Scott had taken up so much space in her head she should be charging him rent. The memory of him inside her haunted her dreams at night. That was when she was able to sleep. It was mostly impossible. Especially when she thought about how physically close he was, how easy it would be to slip down the corridor and climb into his bed. He was just a few rooms down the corridor in his own suite. The wooden chalet walls seemed flimsy and ineffective barriers to keep them apart.

  Yet she’d been unable to find the courage. Tonight she would do it. She would seduce him and wrap her apology up in kisses.

  We should be together.

  She tipped the carrots into the bowl and pre-heated the oven. Pippa had been right. Holly had thought a lot about what she’d said. Scott was nothing like her mother. The way he’d treated her with consideration and well…dare she say love, was a far cry from the sporadic and utterly unreliable drunken affection she’d received from her mother.

  She’d left home behind years ago, or thought she had, but now it appeared she was still carrying it around with her. What better way to exorcise the ghost than to be brave and take a chance on Scott?

  Once the casserole was safely in the oven she went to sort through her clothes. She’d look nice tonight if it killed her. She’d wear her one and only killer dress – a bright red silk wrap dress she’d got in the sales. It draped over her curves in a very flattering way, even if she said so herself. She would also wear her best underwear and shave her legs.

  It was time the seduction tables were turned on Scott.

  ***

  Scott was roused from his of
fice by the persistent bleeping of the smoke alarm. Great. Another problem he could do without.

  When he reached the kitchen, clouds of smoke billowed from the oven. He quickly flicked the dials off, briefly registering the temperature was on full whack. Then he flung the terrace doors wide open. The air that rushed in was freezing cold but at least it was fresh. Grabbing a mop from the cleaning cupboard, he used it to reach up to stop the smoke alarm beeping.

  He turned when he saw a flash of red dress at the periphery of his vision. It was Holly. Wearing a red silk dress that clung to her curves so snugly it actually made him jealous.

  He'd never been jealous of a dress before! Hadn’t she been on supper duty tonight? Why was she all dolled up? The thought she might be planning to go out and meet someone later tonight hit him with the force of a heavy cudgel.

  Anger growled in his chest at the thought of anyone else touching Holly.

  ‘Where on earth were you?’ he snapped, dimly aware that his anger was all out of proportion to the burnt supper but unable to control it.

  ‘Just in the bathroom,’ she said, biting her lip as she went over to the oven to examine her casserole ‘What happened?’

  ‘The temperature was turned right up to maximum.’

  The confusion on her face turned to outrage. ‘But who turned the temperature gauge up? It was supposed to be slow cooking on a low heat. And what are we going to do about feeding them? It’s almost seven.’ She looked at the charred remains of her chicken casserole. ‘I’m really sorry, Scott. I don’t know what can have happened. Well, nothing I can prove anyway.’

  Magda briefly flashed into Scott’s mind. Great, he was becoming as paranoid as Holly. She’d probably just knocked the dial herself.

  ‘I’ll have to make plans.’ He reached into his back pocket for his phone, scrolling though his contacts. ‘I suppose I can always get some skidoos brought over and we’ll go up to a mountain cantine. It’ll be a nice change for the guests.’

  ‘Are we…all going out?’