by Carol Ross
“Cricket introduced us,” Adele explained.
“Oh, that’s good,” she muttered.
He asked, “Hannah, do you have a minute? I’d like to ask you something.”
Adele pointed toward the group of people seated at the long table. “Looks like the meeting is about to start, so I’ll go join them, and fill you in on anything you miss.”
“Thanks, Adele.”
Tate motioned for Hannah to follow as he strode toward the lobby. Along the way they dodged Faraway Inn employees who were busy hauling decorated Christmas trees down the hall toward the restaurant.
“There is some serious Christmas spirit in this place. That’s a lot of trees.” He stopped in front of one covered with ski-related ornaments and sparkly snowflakes. “This one is really cool.”
“Thank you. I did it. Well, mostly Janie and Adele did it with my moral support. I’m not very crafty. But, it was donated by Snowy Sky.”
“There are no snowboards on it, though.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and craned his neck around the tree as if searching for some.
She grinned, finding herself taken in by his teasing good humor. “Huh, that is weird,” she answered, pretending to look puzzled. “I was sure that we put a whole bunch of snowboards all over it.”
“Mmm...” He faked his own perplexed scowl and she was utterly captivated, and a little grateful that he didn’t act like this all the time. Who would have guessed the man could be so charming? The last thing she needed was a crush on the ski-resort consultant.
“It’s for a fund-raising event.”
“Oh, right.” He eyed the trees speculatively. “The Tree something or other.”
Hannah was a little surprised that he knew about it, although there was advertising for it all over town. “Festival of Trees, and yes, actually that’s what my meeting is about right now. I’m on the committee.”
Slipping his hands into his back pockets, he exhaled loudly. “Okay. You probably need to get to that. So, what I wanted to ask you is... I was just talking to Cricket Blackburn? About your heli-skiing operation?”
“Mmm-hmm, I know Cricket,” Hannah said with her own teasing grin.
He let out a chuckle. “Of course you do... And you’ve been out heli-skiing with him, right?”
“Yes, of course, many times. We’re partners, remember?”
He brushed a hand through his hair. “Of course you have... Um...”
Why was he acting so weird? It was almost as if he was nervous.
“I think we covered this already. It’s an absolute blast,” she added, trying to move the conversation along.
“I figured I’d take my board and go with him to check it out. And I wanted to see if you—”
Uh-oh. She could see where this was going. She interrupted, “No, thank you, Tate. I appreciate the offer, but that won’t be necessary.”
He looked confused. “What’s not necessary?”
“JB Heli-Ski is a separate entity from Snowy Sky. We haven’t requested your input or recommendations where it’s concerned. Your consulting fee doesn’t cover anything related to it.”
A surprised laugh burst from his lips as he said, “Oh, I know that. I was just... Okay.” He added a nod.
She smiled, glad that he was taking this so well. “Good, because I realize you’re just doing the job you were hired to do here and I respect that. I am cooperating and assisting in every way I can. But I’m going to be honest with you. I didn’t hire you. The board of directors voted on it because Park Lowell insisted...” She trailed off with a shake of her head. He didn’t need to hear how she felt about Park.
“But that doesn’t matter. You’re here and I’m fine with that. Let’s just stick to your original mission at Snowy Sky, though, okay? And leave JB as it is?”
He nodded. “Sure, okay. But I was actually going to...”
His eyes seemed to search her face and she felt a fresh wave of attraction. There was a vulnerability beneath his tough exterior that she found incredibly appealing.
She said, “You were going to...? I’m sorry to hurry you along, but I do need to get to my meeting.”
“Sure thing. I’ll let you get going.” He grinned. “You’re a tough one—you know that?”
She was relieved that he didn’t seem offended. It wasn’t personal. He genuinely seemed like a good guy and under different circumstances she could see herself really liking him. She did like him, actually, and she could imagine... But these were not those different circumstances and it was pointless to spend time “imagining” anything at all.
“Thank you, I think. Because although I’m not sure what you’re referring to specifically, I certainly don’t mind being called tough.” She smiled and added a wink before hurrying back into the dining room.
* * *
TATE WATCHED HER walk away, his head spinning from that parting look. She’d graced him with that gorgeous smile, which was bad enough, but when she’d winked he’d felt this sensation somewhere deep in his chest.
He’d never met anyone like her. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who was so full of life. At first he’d had his doubts, wondered what kind of person jumped off a ski lift into the snow because it was fun. Then there was the sledding incident. She could have injured herself then, too. But her only concern had been whether he was okay. That, and her torn pants. Which she’d also handled with a perfect mix of humor and grace.
And watching her with those preschoolers had done something to him. He wanted to spend some time with her, wanted to talk to her about Lucas. He’d like to introduce her to Lucas.
Lucas.
It was probably for the best, he told himself, that she had shut him down without her even realizing he was about to ask her out.
Heli-skiing had seemed like a good bet for a first date. Regret surfaced even as he reminded himself that he didn’t have time to get involved with someone. His focus needed to be on Lucas and creating the best home and family environment that he possibly could, which included his plans for Snowy Sky. Something told him that spending time with Hannah would definitely lead to involvement.
Cricket walked up to join him. “How did that go?”
Tate shrugged. “Condensed version?”
“Sure.”
“She didn’t get it that I was trying to ask her out and then I very smoothly told her she was, uh...tough.”
“Swept her right off her feet, huh?”
“Something like that.” Tate chuckled wryly and shook his head in defeat.
“What did she say?”
“She thought I was trying to offer my consulting services to JB Heli-Ski. And then she very nicely told me to mind my own business.”
“That’s our Hannah.” Cricket laughed for a few long seconds. He wrapped an arm around Tate’s shoulder. “You know what? I like you, Addison. And because of that I’m going to let you in on a fact that is well-known here in Rankins. Save you some trouble, or at the very least some precious time figuring it out on your own.”
“By all means.”
“These James girls are tough, and Hannah in particular is incredibly tough and competent and brave. It’s something you might not want to forget.”
Tate liked that sentiment—a woman who was strong and courageous and confident in herself, although in light of what he would be bringing to the board in a few days, he wondered if those traits should also make him nervous.
CHAPTER FIVE
BOARD MEETINGS WERE usually held in the conference room at the Faraway Inn and this one was no exception. Hannah’s sister Shay, who owned the inn, always saw to it that the necessary equipment was carefully and meticulously arranged; monitors, cameras and audio so even members participating long-distance were able to converse. The result was a modern, professional, y
et comfortable atmosphere and usually she enjoyed the gatherings.
But not today, because now Hannah stared at Tate and listened to his comments and suggestions—and to his recommendations to completely and thoroughly unravel her ski resort.
He wanted to change everything.
He proposed turning nearly all of the runs under chairlift two—her prime intermediate ski runs—into snowboard terrain.
“I feel strongly that the construction of a half-pipe right here—” he stopped to point and she felt it like a jab in the chest “—would be the perfect location. Eventually the addition of a second half-pipe here...”
Was he joking? Two half-pipes? One would cost a lot—way more than they could afford at this point. Not to mention the continual maintenance. She looked down at the estimates he’d passed out before he started speaking. Two would be excessive to the nth degree.
“A snowboard-cross course or some slope-style components would also help to draw competitive boarders.” He met her eyes for a few seconds before adding, “And skiers. Snowy Sky could hold competitions and I guarantee you would get some professionals coming here to train. I’ve already talked to...”
Rattling off names she guessed were supposed to impress them all, he went on to add credence to his economic points with more numbers and statistics. Then he mentioned that while the lodge’s overall theme was “quaint and charming,” the design should be “upgraded” and the layout “altered” for a more modern feel, and it should also include high-end penthouse suites.
According to Tate, even the restaurant should serve different food.
She glanced around the room, and at the faces peering back from the monitors, and was struck with the feeling that she was the only one who hadn’t been hypnotized by this magician. The one possible exception was her friend Edith Milner whose expression Hannah thought held some skepticism.
As one of Snowy Sky’s largest investors, Edith had been instrumental in helping Hannah throughout this whole process—from permits to securing funding. Hannah had received a large settlement after the accident but not nearly enough to open the resort on her own. Edith had made it all possible, investing heavily and bringing others on board through her vast business connections, including her friend and fellow koi enthusiast Tiger Takagi.
But the other board members seemed riveted by Tate’s commentary and suggestions.
Hannah felt like screaming.
She’d been ready for the subject of snowboarding to be addressed, had even thought about the places where she might defer—or at the very least compromise. But never once had he said he intended to recommend an overhaul of the entire resort.
He had ambushed her plain and simple.
She forced herself to remain calm, though, because in spite of his failure to disclose his intentions, she felt confident she had the votes to reject any proposals based on Tate’s recommendations. Between her, Edith and Mr. Takagi, their block was strong enough.
Upon his closing remarks, Hannah sought permission from the chairman to speak.
“Thank you, Tate, for that informative report and those interesting facts. However, I believe I have explained to you that Snowy Sky’s focus will be a family-oriented, vacation-destination type of ski resort. Skiing is not a cheap endeavor for most families and a huge part of our draw is the large amount of beginner and intermediate ski runs, affordable rentals, lodging and food. We’re not interested in attracting professional snowboarders and competitions, or replacing our prime ski runs with snowboard terrain. One half-pipe is at best cost prohibitive. Two half-pipes feels disproportionate. How would we pay for one? And where would this influx of snowboarders come from that we could possibly justify two?”
“Skiers use half-pipes now, too,” he returned.
“Not the average skier.”
“The practice is growing in popularity.” He sounded completely confident and a little dismissive as he shifted his focus back to the screen. “If you look at these numbers I’ve compiled, you’ll see...”
After he finished his rebuttal, the board began discussing his various recommendations and asking questions. The level of excitement in the air reminded Hannah of a high school pep rally.
Over the din, Tate flashed another smile at her. But this was a smile she hadn’t seen before. One of satisfaction? She should have known he wasn’t taking her seriously. She’d thought they were becoming friends, had even found herself pondering whether they could be more than that. Something she hadn’t considered about anyone in nearly three years—not since the accident. Not since Spencer.
Park was beaming. He tried to catch her eye; she ignored him. But she couldn’t ignore the enthusiastic sounds of the board members discussing the additional revenue competitions could bring. Yes, it would bring in revenue, she wanted to shout above the noise, but it would also add untold, unsound expense.
Tamping down her frustration, she reasonably pointed out, “Please keep in mind that accommodating competitions and snowboarders in this manner would be expensive and also result in keeping families and recreational skiers away.”
“I don’t agree,” Park countered. “The expense would be offset by the revenue. It’s pretty clear that we need these half-pipes.” He referenced some of Tate’s statistics and then went on in his annoyingly superior tone, “As board members, it should be our job to focus on ensuring the economic success of Snowy Sky in any way possible.”
Edith chimed in from one of the monitors, “That does not include reckless spending, Mr. Lowell. In my opinion, Hannah and the board’s existing and more conservative approach has a much better cost-to-benefit ratio.”
Tate diplomatically added that implementing his recommendations would still leave more than adequate space for the “run-of-the-mill skier.”
Run-of-the-mill? Hannah felt a spike of annoyance. “These run-of-the-mill skiers you’re disparaging are going to be our bread and butter,” she countered smoothly.
He lifted his hands, palms up. “That’s fine. That’s great. I’m not trying to insult anyone here. All I’m asking is why not aspire to more than just bread and butter?”
“I know I would,” Park chimed in. “I’d like some steak and lobster every now and then.” An overly loud guffaw made him sound like the jerk she knew him to be.
More discussion ensued until Terry, the board’s chairman, suggested a special meeting be held in the near future to address Tate’s report. This would give everyone time to read and fully digest the material. Any proposals to take Snowy Sky in a “different direction” could be presented at that time. They voted to hold it the week after Christmas.
As the meeting progressed to other items, she barely heard them because those words, different direction, spliced together with his commentary replayed in her head, each time blurring her vision for Snowy Sky—her dream, her goals, her life—a little bit more.
She felt light-headed.
Then the chairman spoke again, “Before we adjourn, Park has requested time to bring up a new issue.”
All eyes turned toward Park who made a show of clearing his throat. He seemed to have a special smirk on his already smirk-filled face. Hannah felt a fresh swirl of dread as he began to speak.
“As we all know, during the finance and construction Snowy Sky Ski Resort Incorporated has sold two blocks of shares to investment firms, each block being twelve percent of the total shares. The purchasers were Pop Bottle Inc. and L-DOG Investments. L-DOG has just purchased the shares owned by Pop Bottle, giving L-DOG twenty-four percent ownership. L-DOG is ultimately one hundred percent owned by Tate Addison who according to our bylaws is now entitled to a seat on the board.”
He made a motion for Tate’s tenure to begin immediately. It was seconded.
Hannah sat in stunned silence, even as she reeled internally. She suddenly felt invisible within her own company—the
company she had created. The resort she was building. These events seemed absolutely surreal. Tate owned a quarter of Snowy Sky? How could this have happened? Why in the world would Tate want a share of Snowy Sky?
None of this made any sense.
Before Terry could proceed with the vote, a voice of reason called out from her monitor again.
“Point of order, Mr. Chairman?”
Fixing her eyes on the screen, focusing on the face of her dear friend Edith Milner, currently vacationing in the south of France, Hannah prayed she could somehow stop this nightmare.
“Yes, Mrs. Milner?”
“According to our bylaws there is protocol to be followed as to the addition of new board members.”
“But this is an exceptional case,” Park returned confidently. “Surely we can forgo the normal vetting process here. As Tate is already involved in Snowy Sky, we can assume his motives are pure.”
“Surely you’re not suggesting we make an exception to a legally binding procedure based on personal recommendations, are you, Mr. Lowell? One of our many responsibilities as board members is to keep the threat of litigation to an absolute minimum.”
Park looked flustered, and irritated.
Tate jumped in. “Not only do I think Mrs. Milner’s point is valid, I look forward to working with someone as astute as she clearly is. I suggest the vote for my tenure be tabled until the next earliest convenience.”
Edith’s voice boomed from the monitor again. “That’s a wonderful idea. I emailed you the section and paragraph number, Terry, pertaining to the procedure for adopting a new member. Please forward it to the other members, so that everyone may easily locate and review the information.”
Hannah wondered how Edith had found it so quickly, but knowing her friend the way she did, she wouldn’t be surprised to learn Edith had the bylaws memorized. She couldn’t wait for their next Skype session.
The motion was made and passed. As the meeting concluded, Hannah looked at her watch, pretending that she had some place to be. Gathering up her belongings, she left quickly with brief comments to a couple people and waves of goodbye to a few more. Snow started to fall as she strode out the door and across the parking lot to her SUV. She climbed in, started the engine to defrost the windows and tried to decide what to do.
