Gold Fire

by Starr Ambrose

  She stopped dead in the parking lot as soon as he took his hand off her elbow. “What does that mean? Are you saying you have so much money you can afford to throw some away on a run-down saloon?”

  “I’m saying you can’t buy me, Miss Larkin. You run back up to that fancy palace on the hill and tell that to the lady who sent you here. Have a nice day now, you hear?” Before she could argue that with him, too, he turned and walked back inside, locking the door behind him.

  They were all watching him. Russ and Jennifer had swiveled their stools toward the door, and Billy seemed to have forgotten the scrub brush in his hand. They waited for him to say something.

  “Leave it locked until we open.” He walked back to his chair and settled in again. With luck, he’d get a couple hours’ sleep before they opened at three.

  “Jase!”

  Billy’s yell would have knocked him off his chair if he hadn’t been half expecting it. With a sigh, he sat up and faced the three people at the bar. “What?”

  “Didn’t you hear what she said? Three million dollars!” His eyes nearly popped out.

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “Are you crazy? Who turns down three million dollars?”

  “Someone who doesn’t want to sell.”

  Billy’s mouth opened, but he simply stared. Russ took up the slack. “You think this place is really worth that much?”

  “Nah, not even with the land.”

  “Might be worth more than you think,” he insisted.

  “Trust me, it’s not. They must be in a hurry to turn it into a golf course and pull in more business. They’d make up the cost in no time.”

  “So why’d you say no?”

  “Because I don’t want to sell, simple as that. I like it here. And I prefer looking at the trees on Two Bears Mountain instead of a golf course. The resorts have already swallowed up enough of B-Pass.” He looked at Jennifer. As usual, he couldn’t read her calm gaze. “You think I’m crazy, too?”

  “No. I think owning the Rusty Wire suits you. What else would you do?”

  “Exactly. Thank you. Now, if you all don’t mind, I’m going to take a nap.”

  No one said anything, so he settled back, propped his boots on a chair, and put the hat over his face. Sleep wasn’t going to be possible—he could still feel their stares on him. But as long as he faked it, he wouldn’t have to answer more questions.

  Dodging the truth wasn’t easy. Telling it would have been even harder, requiring him to face the unsettling suspicion that the Rusty Wire was the only thing that held him together these days. If he didn’t say it aloud, he could pretend it wasn’t true.

  Maybe Jennifer knew him better than he’d thought.

  • • •

  Zoe fumed as she drove the half mile up the mountain to the Alpine Sky Village. She was a professional, presenting a major business deal. Or trying to. He might as well have patted her on the head and told her to run along. He had told her to run along, the patronizing jerk.

  He was a lazy slob, too, if he could sit there and nap while his saloon needed cleaning. She’d spent some time hanging out with people like him and recognized the type. Party all night, sleep all day, and never do a bit of work you don’t have to. She’d narrowly escaped getting sucked into that mire herself, and would prefer to stay away from it. People in Barringer’s Pass had long memories.

  Jase Garrett obviously didn’t know her—she wasn’t a quitter. She was going to do some homework on him, and hope like hell he was too lazy to do any on her. Next time she went to the Rusty Wire, she’d know everything there was to know about both Jase and his saloon, including what might tempt him to sell.

  Reaching the landscaped streets of the luxury resort community eased her irritation. In contrast to the Rusty Wire, everything about the Alpine Sky screamed class and dignity—the stone-and-timber theme of the main lodge and its related condos, the cute gift shops and ski stores across from the lodge, even the quaint stone bridge over the rushing gorge of Elkhorn Creek. Their narrow valley didn’t allow them to spread out like Aspen or Vail, but they had the best ski slopes around, and their little community was charming as all get-out.

  For service, accommodations, and grandeur, the place was perfection. All except for the manager, her boss. If she was lucky, she could slip inside without encountering him.

  It wasn’t going to happen. Crossing the marble floor of the lobby, she saw David behind the admissions desk. Their new clerk appeared to be hanging on his every instruction, already captivated by her boss’s handsome face and air of authority. It didn’t matter that David was twenty years older than the desk clerk, with hair gone prematurely silver-gray. It never did. They always fell for his sophisticated look and charm, and the cool way he passed all the problems on to Zoe, as if they were no more than minor blips on his radar screen. If James Bond had gone into hotel management and been merely passably good at his job, he would have been David Brand.

  Zoe seemed to be the only one who found him condescending and arrogant. His feelings for her weren’t any warmer.

  They both knew she’d be a better manager than David. Buck Flemming, the original owner of the Alpine Sky, preferred keeping women where he insisted they belonged—beneath men—so David had skated by while she did all the work. Then Buck had died. Ruth Ann took a couple of minutes to play the grieving widow before freeing up her social calendar by making her son, Matt, the new general manager. Zoe hadn’t met him, but David had. He didn’t give her the details of the meeting, but his irritation made it obvious; finally, someone else had not been charmed by David Brand.

  Matt had given her the golf course deal without even meeting her. She and David both knew her success might result in a shake-up in management.

  Gloves off, game on. David wanted nothing more than for her to fail. Hearing him gloat had zero appeal, so she tried to sneak past the front desk. He looked up and caught her eye with a cool smile. “Excuse me, Victoria,” he told the starry-eyed clerk. “I need to talk to Zoe, but I’m confident you can handle things on your own. You’re doing beautifully.” She beamed, but he didn’t see it as he intercepted Zoe at the back hallway.

  “I’m just here to pick up my laptop,” she told him.

  His smile almost looked sincere. “Let’s take a minute to chat in my office, shall we?”

  She tried not to roll her eyes. “Let’s chat” meant Let me find something to criticize about the way you handled things so I can enjoy how bad you’ll look when Mrs. Flemming hears about it. It killed her that she was about to make his day.

  He closed his office door and sat behind the desk before giving her an expectant look. “I heard your car was at the Rusty Wire.”

  Crap, he had snitches. “I stopped by to meet the owner.”

  “Oh, let’s not be coy. We both know why you were there. So how good are you at high-level negotiations? Did he go for your lowball price?”

  She felt her whole body tighten, and told herself he’d find out soon, anyway, being her supervisor. “No.”

  “That’s too bad.” He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “It would have looked good if you could have brought this deal in under budget. But I suppose Ruth Ann and Matt won’t be too disappointed with three.”

  They wouldn’t have had she managed it. She clenched her teeth and made herself say it. “He didn’t go for three, either.”

  “Really?” He savored it, a smile playing at the side of his mouth as he tried to look concerned. “How disappointing for you. How much does he want?”

  “He says he won’t sell at any price.” David nearly lit up, and she rushed to squash his hopes. “I haven’t given up. I’ll get to him, I just haven’t found his weak spot yet.”

  David’s smile was serene. “Maybe he doesn’t have one. It would be awful to disappoint the Flemmings, though. I heard Ruth Ann put Matt in charge of the whole expansion project, and you know how she is about her baby boy. He’s not the person you want to piss off.” He looked positi
vely thrilled that she might.

  “He won’t be disappointed.”

  He punched the air like a cheerleader. “That’s the spirit.”

  She looked around, wondering if there was anything she could accidentally bash his teeth in with. Her gaze fell on a large box in the corner. Beneath packing labels and tape, the box bore the distinctive double-E logo of Everton Equipment.

  She frowned. As far as she knew, Everton didn’t make ski equipment. But they did make an exclusive line of clothing and equipment for golf. She gave David a puzzled look. “Are we already ordering for a golf line? They don’t even know if the project is a go.”

  “More pressure on you, huh?” He enjoyed it for a moment before nodding at the box. “Those are sample shirts direct from the factory. Naturally, if the Alpine Sky builds the golf course, we’ll carry only the best brand in our pro shop. I imagine Everton heard rumors and decided to do some early lobbying for their brand.”

  Really early; she was surprised they even knew about it. That meant Ruth Ann and Matt must be operating on the assumption that buying the Rusty Wire was a done deal. Zoe had to convince Jase Garrett to sell—and fast.

  David went to the box and lifted the flaps. “Here, take one.” He pulled out a dark blue polo shirt and tossed it to her. “Wear it to the Rusty Wire; maybe it’ll help.” For some reason that made him grin.

  She’d had enough of David’s encouragement. Clutching the shirt, she stood. “I’m not giving up, you know. I’ll find a way to convince him to sell.”

  He smirked. “Good luck.”

  She wasn’t stupid enough to count on luck. This required research. She had several hours before her shift started to find out everything she could about Jase Garrett.

  • • •

  It didn’t take long. Not many people lit up a Google search like Jase did.

  At first she thought she had the wrong Jase Garrett as she scanned all sorts of hits on downhill skiing events and websites. Then she saw the photos. A younger version, but unmistakably the chiseled face of the man she’d talked to at the Rusty Wire.

  And the accolades. She lost count of the titles and trophies.

  And, oh my God, the medals. She’d hit on them right away and nearly fell off her chair. Olympic medals, flashing in the winter sunlight—three gold and one silver. Jase grinned in the picture like the winner he was, holding them up for the camera.

  On the cover of Time magazine.

  Zoe stared at the picture for a long time. The red, white, and blue parka, the confidence in his squared shoulders and raised chin, the glint of victory in his eyes. And the words beside the picture: “Jase Garrett Shines for America.”

  He’d been famous. Probably had endorsement deals with major companies, which explained why her offer hadn’t tempted him. She was not the first person to offer him millions of dollars.

  Why hadn’t she known? Her eyes strayed to the date—ten years ago. She’d been in her first year of college. Well, that explained it; she’d barely noticed the world beyond campus during those years, being much too busy trashing her future. But he was only a few years older than she was, which meant he would still have been young and strong enough to compete in the next winter Olympics. She quickly searched the U.S. ski team four years later, but couldn’t find his name. An injury could have kept him out; it happened all the time. No matter, nothing could take away from the four medals he’d earned that one year. And if he’d ever been injured, he seemed fine now. She hadn’t noticed so much as a limp.

  He might no longer compete, but Jase hadn’t retired to a tropical island or gone off to mingle with the jet set. He lived in tiny Barringer’s Pass, where he had access to the best ski slopes this side of the Alps. She’d bet anything he still skied. That sort of dedication to a sport didn’t just fade away.

  A slow smile crossed her face as she realized how she could use that.

  Closing the laptop, her eyes fell on the polo shirt she’d tossed on her desk. Size large. On impulse, she folded it and tucked it into her shoulder bag. A little reminder of the marketing powerhouse backing up her idea might be the perfect way to make her point.

  Chapter

  Two

  By 9 p.m. the next evening the Rusty Wire was in full Friday night swing. Since most of their customers were local, their business didn’t suffer in the off-season. From the look of the parking lot, tonight was no exception.

  The double-door entry with an air lock between the two doors was an excellent sound barrier in addition to keeping out the winter’s cold. From outside she heard only the dull thump of a bass line. Inside, music and laughter hit her like a wave, rolling over and around her. The air was warm with the heat of a few dozen bodies, half of them crowding the dance floor as they stomped, clapped, and sang along while doing a line dance. From the level of excitement, she guessed more beer would be hitting the floor tonight.

  Zoe skirted the dancers, letting her gaze sweep the tables. Several groups of people laughed and talked loudly. One table full of women dug into a deep-dish pizza, and she inhaled appreciatively as she passed. A harried-looking waitress in jeans and a white T-shirt carried a tray laden with nachos and beers. There was no sign of Jase.

  Reaching the crowded bar, she walked down its length, checking out customers and the two bartenders. Still no Jase, but she recognized the woman pulling beers as the one who’d been there yesterday. Zoe found an open stool and caught her attention.

  The woman finished drawing a beer, then approached Zoe slowly, her eyes giving Zoe’s neatly tailored suit a disdainful once-over. “Miss Larkin. What can I get you?”

  “Do you know where I can find Mr. Garrett?”

  She took her time deciding whether to release the top-secret information, then nodded to a spot over her shoulder. “Back there.”

  Zoe hadn’t noticed the room that extended off one side of the saloon. Through the wide doorway she could see poker and pool tables, all in use. The walls were decorated with poster-size pictures of gunslingers and cowboys, and framed collections of barbed wire. Zoe gave the closest display a puzzled glance. Who knew there were so many types of fence wire? And who cared?

  From the line of chairs along the wall, several people watched the pool players. Jase was one of them.

  Strictly speaking, he wasn’t watching the game. His attention—and his smile—were focused on the young woman sitting close beside him. As Zoe watched, the girl tossed her mane of blond hair and leaned close to his ear to say something. His smile widened to a grin.

  Something like irritation hit Zoe in the chest, except it couldn’t be that because she didn’t care what in the hell Jase Garrett did or who he did it with. Muttering a thank-you to the bartender, she tugged firmly on her fitted blazer and strode into the back room. A few pairs of eyes followed her, but Jase didn’t look up until she stopped right in front of him. His smile faded as his gaze ran down her official dark-blue Alpine Sky blazer and skirt all the way to her sensible heels, then back up again.

  “Miss Larkin,” he drawled. “Fancy seeing you here. Just knocking off work?”

  “I’m at work, Mr. Garrett.”

  He sighed and sent the girl a disappointed look. “Sorry, looks like I need to take care of some business.”

  “No prob.” The girl planted a kiss on his cheek and stood, pausing to give Zoe a curious look. Zoe took her first good look at the cute little blonde. My God, she couldn’t be over eighteen. From her Internet research, she knew Jase was thirty-three. The letch.

  “I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” Jase said, giving the girl a farewell wink. Zoe’s mouth tightened with disapproval, which didn’t seem to bother him in the least. He hooked his hands behind the chair, his knees nearly bumping hers as he slid into a relaxed slouch. “Have a seat.”

  Her gaze fell to his invitingly open lap. For one second a warm tingle spread through her at the idea of snuggling against his firm chest and being held by his strong arms. She squashed it and stiffened. “I don’t conduct b
usiness while seated on someone’s lap.”

  He raised an amused eyebrow. “I meant the chair.” He cast a pointed look at the chair next to his. “But if you’d prefer my lap, you’re more than welcome.”

  She sat on the chair, flushing with embarrassment and wondering if his body language had deliberately led her to misunderstand or if her mind had gone there on its own. Either way, she resented him for it. She couldn’t afford to let a man sneak around her carefully constructed image of professionalism and polish. Especially a man who so clearly embodied everything she hated.

  Overcompensating, she held her knees primly together and placed her shoulder bag on her lap, folding her hands over it. Shields up.

  “Mr. Garrett, I came to discuss the Alpine Sky’s offer to buy the Rusty Wire.”

  “I guessed.” His gaze took a leisurely trip down her body and back up again. She figured it was meant to unnerve her and forced herself not to squirm.

  “I brought something for you.” She pulled the polo shirt out of her bag and handed it to him.

  “You’re bribing me with a shirt?” He looked at it. “Good brand.” One eyebrow lifted in surprise as he held it against his chest. “Fits, too. Well, damn, I think you’ve swayed me, Miss Larkin. Now that you’ve thrown in this nice shirt, I’ll be glad to sell you the Rusty Wire.”

  She gave him a tolerant smile, trying not to notice how the dark-blue shirt only deepened the blue of his eyes. “The shirt is simply to remind you that the Alpine Sky stands for quality. Quality accommodations, quality equipment, and quality services. I want you to remember that when you consider our offer.”

  “I already declined your offer. Do I have to give back the shirt?”

  “I believe I can sweeten the deal for you.”

  “I don’t know, three million and a shirt is already pretty sweet.”

  His sly smile put tiny crinkles beside his eyes and caused a sudden skip in her heartbeat. She caught her breath, annoyed by her reaction, and at the same time wondering what it would be like to be the focus of that dazzling Time magazine cover grin. It was probably best if she never found out.