Snowed In: A Billionaire Winter Novella

by Linnea May

  I have never won anything in my life before. Never. It is almost cynical to me that the first time I do win something, it has to be this.

  “Aaand, our jackpot for tonight, a luxurious spa treatment at Mandarin Oriental goes tooo...!”

  Our boss, Mr. Cooper, stands in the middle of our gathering, his cheeks flushed from a few too many glasses of champagne. He is holding up a little piece of paper he just drew from a fishbowl. All eyes are glued on him.

  Well, almost all.

  I am one of the few people who do not stare at him in anticipation. Instead, I am using the few moments of his overly dramatic presentation and drawing of the raffle winner to stock up on mini quiches at the buffet.

  Our agency has used this caterer before and the mini quiches have always been a hit. It's no surprise that their tables have been crowded the entire time our Christmas party has been going on. Until now, there had been no chance for me to get a taste of them.

  Until now.

  Just as expected, they are already half gone at this point. My favorites—the ham quiches—are gone completely.

  I fill my plate with what is left, mostly vegetarian quiches and two little meatballs to make up for the lack of meat in them. Everybody had been lining up at the buffet the entire party, but because I showed up late I didn't have a chance to grab anything but a glass of champagne.

  That's what you get for being too involved and too diligent when it comes to your job, I guess.

  Just like I do every morning, I had a very light breakfast early on. And just like every morning lately, I had been crammed with work and stressed to the limit so my light breakfast only consisted of coffee—no time for food. Because it's the end of the year, many deadlines have been set for the upcoming week, which is why I wanted to get as much as possible done before midday.

  There was no time to eat anything. No time to snack. I literally haven't ingested anything today except for coffee and champagne.

  I am starving.

  This series of unfortunate circumstances leads to me stuffing my face at the very moment when Mr. Cooper yells my name, announcing me as the winner of the raffle.

  Heads are turning to me as I stand there, where I thought I would be shielded and secluded from everyone else, safe to indulge on the heavenly mini quiches that I have been craving for so long. Not thinking that my name would be called, I had just stuffed an entire quiche into my mouth to ease my painful hunger.

  People are staring at me as I stand there, my eyes as wide as my cheeks are full. There is a moment of silence while some eyes are still searching for me. I can see Mr. Cooper stretching himself behind a row of people in front of me, in search of the lucky winner.

  “Ah, there she is!” he announces.

  And then the entire workforce bursts out in a hearty, alcohol induced laughter.

  I start chewing frantically, trying to swallow the food as soon as possible so I can join their amusement. I wouldn't be me if I wasn't able to laugh at this scene myself.

  I smile and nod, still chewing, as cheers and laughter are thrown in my direction.

  “Come on, Ava, get over here to collect your reward!” Mr. Cooper says. “There’s always time for food later!”

  I finally get the quiche down and raise my hands in defense. Yeah, yeah, I know.

  I swallow hard and put my plate with the remaining food aside before I approach Mr. Cooper in the middle of the room to accept the symbolic certificate for my reward.

  “Merry Christmas, Ava,” he says as he hands it over to me. People start applauding, some of them still giggling. “I hope you’ll enjoy your time at Mandarin Oriental!”

  I don't exactly share Mr. Cooper's enthusiasm, but nod and smile. “Thank you, thank you.”

  Because I don't know what else to do, I just stare down at the certificate in my hands. There is an empty smile on my face as I wander back into the crowd. I try to look happy and grateful, when all I really feel is confusion and a certain indifference.

  I never cared for this prize, the jackpot of our office raffle. In fact, I could have gotten better use of the movie voucher that one of my coworkers won earlier. Spas, massages, fancy hotels – that’s just not my thing.

  For a moment, I even consider asking her if she'd be interested in exchanging prizes.

  That thought is quickly erased when she and another woman from our office approach me after I have picked up my plate with the half-eaten food from earlier.

  They situate themselves next to me, both of them towering over my short frame with their gazelle-like statures. Their physical features are a common sight at this workplace—tall, slim, with bright, shiny eyes smothered in mascara and wavy long hair. One of them—Sandy—a light blonde, the other—Lisa—a brunette like me.

  Well, like me in fancy clothes and pretty makeup.

  The smug smiles that grace their faces don't promise nice words of congrats. If anything, I perceive envy and cynical nastiness—an impression that comes quite close to their intentions.

  “Aren't you a lucky one,” Lisa says. She is the one who won the movie voucher, which she is now waving in front of me. “All I got is this package of free movie tickets with popcorn and all—and you get this amazing spa treatment.”

  I cast her a forced smile. I have never liked this woman. God knows why I ever considered exchanging prizes with her. Even if I feel I would enjoy the movie voucher more than these silly spa sessions, I would never do it now that she reminds me how much I dislike her.

  “Kinda funny, isn't it?” Sandy adds.

  “Funny?” I clarify.

  “That you are the one who wins the jackpot,” Lisa explains while scanning me from head to toe. “I mean...”

  “At least it goes to someone who could actually use it,” Sandy interjects, smiling at me as if she were giving me a compliment. “It does include a beauty package, doesn’t it?”

  Lisa adds a stupid giggle. “I guess so! I mean, stuffing your face at the movies wouldn't be something too exciting or new for you, would it?”

  What a bitch!

  Just as I open my mouth to give them a witty reply, one of our newest senior copywriters, Ann, appears seemingly out of nowhere between the two.

  “Seems like I am not the only one who is jealous of your amazing prize,” she beams. “You're one lucky girl! Right, ladies?”

  She glances at Sandy and Lisa, and something about the way she behaves around those two tells me that she shares my feelings about them—and that she is aware of what just happened a few moments before.

  Lisa and Sandy exchange a quick look. Neither of them appear to be sure about Ann's intentions. Is she their ally or their fiend?

  “Yes, I suppose so,” Lisa says eventually. “We were just saying how lucky it is that the jackpot goes to someone who can actually get some good use out of it.”

  There is nothing hostile about the way she says it, but her eyes speak volumes. Sandy nods approvingly, while Ann just shrugs.

  “What do you mean?” she asks innocently.

  Lisa and Sandy look at each other, then at me, and back to Ann, dumbfounded by her lack of understanding. They were hoping for an ally, but Ann does not seem to realize the obvious. She doesn't see the curves that grace my short body, and she doesn't see how much work that tired face of mine needs.

  I know Ann well enough to see that she is very aware of what is going on. We have never spoken, except for professional small talk, but I have always liked and respected her. Unlike these two hens, she is not into gossip and I have never heard her say anything mean about anyone. She is refreshingly indifferent to this kind of pastime.

  “Well, I mean...” Sandy utters as she demonstratively scans me from head to toe again.

  “I know what you mean,”“ Ann says, and for a moment, both Sandy's and Lisa's faces beam with relief—before Ann continues to speak. “And I am appalled at your behavior. You should know that nastiness doesn't come a long way. Especially here.”

  Oh, no she didn't!<
br />
  Even I have to suppress a shocked gasp as I remember that Ann has recently become their superior. She was promoted to senior copywriter just a few weeks ago, and if she is unhappy with their attitude, they might have to face more than just a little lecture.

  Sandy and Lisa suddenly understand. They don't refrain from casting me one last frown before they hurry away.

  I look up at Ann, whose eyes are following the two as they leave.

  “Thank you,” I say. “But you didn't have to rescue me-”

  “Oh, I didn't come here to rescue you,” Ann interjects. “I just wanted to congratulate you, because I truly envy you for that prize! I just happened to witness those girls by accident.”

  She pauses and looks back over her shoulder for a second before she continues.

  “Ignore them,” she says. “They must have very little in life to be so nasty all the time. And you’ll have the time of your life at that spa, I’m telling you.”

  “Thank you,” I reply. “We’ll see.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Ava

  I take a deep breath before I enter the hotel. The certificate allowed me to schedule an appointment whenever I wanted to, and I picked the second Advent Sunday.

  I’ve never been in a fancy hotel like this and can’t help but stare at the beautiful décor that’s surrounding me once I step inside. I feel so out of place. The reception hall alone is so much more extravagant and lavish than any building I have ever entered. The light marble floors and walls are topped with golden details at the doors and window frames. Ornamental stucco decorates the high ceilings and thick, heavy curtains in dark red frame the giant entrance door.

  I remain at the entrance for a few moments and look around, taking in the flamboyant appearance of this costly place. Despite my efforts to act as natural as possible and to give the impression that this is nothing out of the ordinary for me, I cannot help but feel utterly lost.

  The place is already fully decorated for Christmas, with a giant Christmas tree, decorated with golden and red ornaments, building the central focal point.

  I approach the reception desk, where a tiny blond beauty is sitting behind the counter, looking up at me with an expectant smile.

  “Ava Claire,” I introduce myself. “I have an appointment for an Oriental Essence treatment.”

  Her eyebrows rise as I hand her the certificate.

  “Sure,” she says in a friendly but distant tone. “This also includes all day usage of our sauna and spa area.”

  “It does?” I ask, bewildered.

  The woman nods, appearing slightly annoyed. “You can stay all day, if you wish to. The treatment itself will only last for about an hour.”

  “Yes, I know,” I say. “Thank you.”

  She smiles at me. “Please have a seat, we'll be right with you.”

  The receptionist points over to a little seating area and I follow her gesture and sit down on one of the lounge chairs, placing my sports bag next to my feet.

  Just a few moments after I have taken my seat, a woman in a white uniform that kind of makes her look like a surgeon emerges from around the corner.

  “Ava?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. “I’m Lucy, let me show you up to the spa area.”

  I follow her to the elevators, and as she begins to tell me about the facilities we’re about to visit and the extras that my treatment for today will include, my attention is quickly caught by the person standing next to us as we wait for the elevator to arrive—the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

  He is wearing a black trench coat and standing right next to me. A man in his early thirties with piercing steel blue eyes, dishwater blond hair with a few lighter strands here and there and a light tan. His jaw is strong, framing a seductive smile as he looks at me. I blush like a school girl and turn away.

  “Mr. Cartwright, it’s nice to see you again,” Lucy says, greeting the handsome man next to me. “We haven’t seen you in a while.”

  He turns away from me and looks at her, displaying a professional smile.

  “Busy times,” he says. “But it was time for a day off. Long overdue.”

  “We’re glad to have you back,” Lucy replies as the elevator door opens.

  Mr. Cartwright beckons for us to enter first and my heart almost stops when I realize that he’s heading for the spa area as well.

  None of us speak a word during the elevator ride up and a weird tensions spreads between us. I can feel Mr. Cartwright’s eyes on me but decide to keep my eyes straight ahead. His close proximity unsettles me. Men like him have always intimidated me, but in his case, it seems to be so much more. A palpable attraction and a weird sense of being seen, by him. He noticed me. Men like him never notice women like me.

  I almost sigh in relief when the elevator reaches its destination and we can leave the small enclosure. To my relief, Mr. Cartwright excuses himself and heads in the opposite direction from which Lucy is leading me now.

  “Phew,” I make once he’s out of earshot.

  She looks at me, casting me a knowing smile.

  “He’s quite something, isn’t he?” she says. “I can’t believe that man is still single.”

  “Who is he?” I ask. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

  Lucy smiles and shakes her head.

  “No, of course,” she says. “He’s Derek Cartwright, one of the shareholders of the Mandarin Oriental empire—and a regular guest at our facilities, when he has the time.”

  “I see.”

  I don’t know what else to say. Handsome, charming and rich? Yeah, he couldn’t be more out of my league.

  I follow Lucy to the massage suits and she instructs me to get comfortable, and naked, leaving the room to give me some privacy as I disrobe.

  I get undressed and tie my long hair up in a bun. I have been told before that this hairstyle is an attractive look on me and that I have a pleasant neckline. It was a random compliment by a guy who I had seen for a while years ago, but it still serves as a reliable ego-push every time I need to feel a little better about myself.

  The treatment I won is one of Mandarin Oriental’s signature spa treatments, a massage that has been designed to specifically relieve neck and shoulder tension. It combines Swedish-style sequences, aromatherapy and acupressure to ease stress, realign the mind, soothe emotions and relax the body. Lucy is joined by another woman and together they use Quintessence oil blended with warming ginger, uplifting mandarin and sacred frankincense while giving me the best massage I’ve ever received.

  I feel completely relaxed once the massage is over and Lucy advises me to retreat to the sauna area right after so the effect of the massage can settle.

  So, that’s where am I now. Naked, just wrapped in one of the hotel’s soft towels, sweating, with a dazed look on my face while soaking in the heat all by myself.

  Until the door opens and a familiar face appears.

  CHAPTER 3

  Derek

  Her doe eyes tell me everything I need to know when I walk in. It’s just the two of us, and the cute little brunette averts her eyes, fixing her towel in an attempt to cover herself more properly.

  It doesn’t help, I can see the outline of her voluptuous breasts as she inadvertently squeezes them together to protect herself from my gaze. Fucking delicious.

  “Small world,” I say, nodding toward her.

  She stares at me through wide eyes and nods. “Yes.”

  I take a seat close to her, but not too close to make her uncomfortable. I’m not an asshole, mind you. She’s sitting in the middle of the room on the longest of the benches, while I take my seat opposite to her, so I can watch her and observe her reactions.

  I know what I like, and I know what I need. She’s the perfect prey at the perfect place. Already naked, glistening with sweat and all mine as long as we’re not disturbed in here. And I reckon that won’t happen, because I asked the staff to close this area to the public for a while. It pays to be me, equip
ped with power and money, and this is one of the places where it works best.

  “We met, at the elevator earlier,” I tell her, even though I’m fairly certain that she remembers that encounter. “Derek Cartwright.”

  “Ava… Ava Claire,” she whispers, her voice breaking. How adorable.

  “Did you enjoy your spa treatment?” I ask.

  She blushes, still hugging her towel as she looks at me, a wet strand of hair falling into her beautiful face.

  “Yes,” she breathes. “It was very relaxing.”

  “What did you get?” I ask.

  “A massage… oriental something,” she mutters.

  “Oriental Essence,” I conclude. “A classic.”

  “Do you… do you come here often?” she wants to know. She takes a deep breath and I can almost see her thoughts written all over her forehead. She’s telling herself to calm down and be cool, but it’s easier said than done. I intimidate her, and I love that.

  “As often as I can,” I say. “It’s a nice getaway once in a while.”

  Ava Claire lowers her eyes and nods. “Yeah, it’s nice when you can get it. I just won a certificate at my office’s Christmas party.”

  I look at her, trying to figure her out. I don’t want her to feel ashamed of not being able to afford this on a regular basis, like I am.

  “What do you do?” I ask her. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “I’m a junior copywriter at an advertising agency,” she says.

  “Interesting,” I say. “So, you’re one of the creatives who come up with great slogans to sell products?”

  She smiles. “Kind of. We always work in a team, so it’s not just me.”

  “Of course.”

  She looks at me, clearing her throat before she dares to ask, “What do you do?”

  Ripping off people for my own benefit, would be the honest answer. Very few people get to where I am by being honest and hard working. I’ve always been good with computers and even at a young age, I knew that it would pay off to learn about coding and programming. If you use these skills properly, that shit can pay off big time. It did for me.