Chalet Girl Plays Cupid: (A Free Short Story) (Ski Season, Book 6)

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Chalet Girl Plays Cupid: (A Free Short Story) (Ski Season, Book 6) Page 1

by Lorraine Wilson




  Chalet Girl Plays Cupid

  A Free Short Story

  LORRAINE WILSON

  A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  HarperImpulse an imprint of

  HarperCollinsPublishers

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015

  Copyright © Lorraine Wilson 2015

  Cover images © Shutterstock.com

  Cover layout design © HarperColl‌insPublishers Ltd 2015

  Cover design by Zoe Jackson

  Lorraine Wilson asserts the moral right

  to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record for this book is

  available from the British Library

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

  The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

  the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

  actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

  entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International

  and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

  By payment of the required fees, you have been granted

  the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access

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  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,

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  whether electronic or mechanical, now known or

  hereinafter invented, without the express

  written permission of HarperCollins.

  Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

  Ebook Edition © February 2015 ISBN: 9780008137540

  Version 2015-02-12

  For my lovely readers - thank you so much for your support, your friendship…oh, and for buying my books! Without you I'd be nothing. x

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chalet Girl Plays Cupid

  Also by Lorraine Wilson…

  Coming soon from Lorraine Wilson…

  Lorraine Wilson

  About HarperImpulse

  About the Publisher

  Chalet Girl Plays Cupid

  'Visualize the life you want, see yourself not as you are but as you want to be…'

  Emily pressed pause on her iPhone screen, silencing the audiobook as she willed herself to believe.

  Can it really be that easy? All I’ve got to do is think nice thoughts?

  The alpine scenery visible through the taxi window was pretty spectacular and it did kind of lift her spirits to look at it, to know this beautiful part of Switzerland would be her home for a while. Maybe the author of 'Think Yourself Happy - Live the Life You Want' had it right; you just had to keep focusing on what was beautiful.

  Hmm…

  Okay, so the idea that just by being positive she could solve everything that was wrong in her life did have the faint aroma of codswallop about it but what if it worked? Frankly she was desperate. She'd try anything that kept her head above water and stopped her thinking about home.

  Home. As in you don't have one anymore.

  You’re homeless.

  She bit her lip and closed her eyes, fighting the surge of panic.

  Focus. Visualize. Breathe.

  What did she want? A chalet-owning Russian oligarch to sweep her off her feet?

  No fear.

  A six-foot tall hunky ski instructor to take her mind off things might be a good start though. Did chalet girls really have sex in hot tubs or was that just a myth? She smiled, sure the book hadn't meant her to start with that kind of visualization.

  "Mademoiselle, vous êtes ici. Chalet Repos."

  The taxi driver's voice rudely interrupted Emily's fantasy. Her eyes jerked open and she fumbled in her bag for her purse, trying to locate her Swiss francs without getting tangled up in her earphones. Then she quickly pulled her shoulder length strawberry blonde hair out of its messy ponytail, running her fingers through it and wishing she knew where she’d packed her hairbrush.

  Had she packed a hairbrush? It had all been such a rush…

  As she climbed out of the car the cold air assaulted her, making her cheeks sting. Her Ugg boots crunched down into thick, powdery white snow. It was so clean and fresh compared to the grey slush she'd left behind in London. The snow covered everything that lay beneath, creating a fresh, blank canvas.

  Verbier was the perfect place for a start-over.

  I'll make it work. It will be okay.

  'Emily." Holly rushed out of the chalet towards her, smiling warmly as she pulled her into a tight hug. "How are you?"

  The kindness threatened to dissolve the fragile veneer of Emily's self-control. Hot tears pressed heavily against her eyelids. Why could kindness make you blub so much quicker than rudeness ever could?

  "I'm, um fine,” Emily muttered, blinking the tears away. “Thanks so much for having me."

  "Well actually you're doing us a huge favour, really you are. And even if you weren't you know you're welcome here any time." Holly beamed, finally releasing Emily from the hug, her cheeks tanned and glowing with health, suggesting long days spent in the Swiss winter sun. "I'm sorry we couldn't fetch you from the airport."

  "That's okay." Emily inhaled the night air, adjusting to the drop in temperature. It smelt so deliciously fresh up here in the mountains and the sky really was incredibly clear, another stark contrast to the polluted skies of London. "The Swiss air is obviously good for you, you look amazing."

  "Thanks, I take it for granted now but I really feel the difference whenever I go back to London." Holly hooked her arm through Emily's. "Come in and say hello, I'll put the kettle on."

  Emily picked up her bags and let herself be led through to Chalet Repos' living space. It was the kind of stylish interior she’d only ever seen in magazines or TV make-over shows. The double height ceiling and exterior wall made almost entirely from glass let the late evening light stream into the room. The light picked out the rich amber tones of the wooden beams and squishy leather sofas. A log fire blazed in the fireplace, filling the room with comforting warmth.

  A new start. I won't waste time feeling sorry for myself.

  "Emily, it's great you've come." Scott rose from his chair, smiling. "So, you're up for being a temporary chalet girl then?"

  She flinched from the sympathy in his smile and looked away, blinking back fresh tears and trying to focus on the view. Shrugging, she forced a smile to her face, "I've got nothing better to do."

  And nowhere else to go…

  "And this is my friend Jake." Scott gestured towards a figure sitting in the leather wingback armchair in the furthest corner of the room.

  Emily hadn't seen him sitting there, had been too preoccupied with trying not to cry, tilting her head back to stop the tears from falling.

  I won't cry. I just need to visualize the person I want to be…well I don't want to be the girl with streaky mascara for a start.

  "Hi," she said, forcing a smile to her face and looking at Jake properly.

  However preoccupied she was she couldn't miss the fact Jake was off the scale gorgeous and pretty damn fit. His longish dark hair had a wild quality and even tho
ugh he was seated she could tell he was easily six foot tall, his physique undoubtedly athletic. An involuntary tingle shoot through her body. Perhaps her visualization had worked after all?

  The only fault she could find in his appearance was that he wasn't smiling. He nodded curtly but didn't get up to meet her or seem remotely interested in her arrival. Any expectation of the visualization becoming reality faded away.

  Emily widened her own smile. After all, the book said to meet any negativity in others by upping the wattage of your own smile. Then, unconsciously, the grumpy person would eventually mimic your body language. Supposedly. It was inbuilt genetic programming. But her achingly wide smile felt almost manic. Not to mention it was hell on the cheek muscles.

  And it wasn't working.

  Jake obviously wasn't programmed like the rest of the human race. He stared, thick eyebrows quirked into a silent ‘Really? Who is this madwoman?' Then he turned his attention back to the book in his hands, dark brows furrowing together in concentration.

  Charming.

  She turned, wide-eyed to Scott. He shrugged and mouthed 'Sorry'. The palpable tension in the air gave Emily the jitters. After the packing, the journey and a week of not sleeping it was too much to cope with.

  “I’ll just go and find Holly,” she announced and fled to the kitchen.

  "So, how are you doing? Bearing up?" Holly turned back from the modern range cooker, eyes creasing with the dreaded sympathy. Suddenly Jake's grumpy indifference felt like the safer alternative.

  "I'm, er…" Emily cleared her throat, blinking back hot tears. "I'm okay as long as I don't think about it, or, you know…talk about it."

  "Sorry." Holly grimaced. "But you know you can talk to me any time you want. Pippa’s worried about you."

  "I know and thanks but I think I'd rather keep busy. I'm looking forward to being a chalet girl for a bit." Emily took the mug of tea offered to her, warming her hands on the china. “Pippa seemed to think if coming out here worked for you then I might be able to sort myself out here.”

  Keeping busy had always been her coping method of choice. Having something to do, or someone else to focus on was always preferable. If she was honest with herself she felt ashamed and that wasn't something she wanted to air over a cup of tea.

  "It's not glamorous I'm afraid." Holly picked up her own mug and sipped the hot tea. "I hope you’re not allergic to rubber gloves. We've got to get the chalet ready for guests and the kind of clientele we aim for can be very demanding."

  "I don't mind. Housework can be therapeutic. And temping wasn't exactly glamorous either. At least when I clock off here I get to sit in the sun, not squeeze onto a tube train with my face shoved into someone's armpit." Emily smiled but the effort of trying to sound upbeat made the muscles around her mouth ache. This positivity lark was exhausting.

  Holly stared at her, forehead creased with concern.

  "I'm fine, really." Emily stared down at her tea. Perhaps she ought to get a badge made up to stop people asking.

  If I say it enough times I can make it true.

  And honestly? The idea of talking to Holly about it all felt as overwhelming as it did humiliating - the shock of Steve announcing he’d bumped into his first love Zoe in a restaurant, of his then dumping Emily to win Zoe back, of losing her home because it was of course Steve’s flat, of losing the joint future they'd planned, the dream home in the country she'd fantasized about…Then the final blow of her temp job ending and the agency saying they didn't have anything else for her.

  If she opened up and let out what she was feeling, well, she'd feel like walking outside and lying down in a snowdrift, waiting for the cold to take her.

  It was scary how often similar thoughts had occurred to her over the past week, popping into her mind at random moments. Holly would probably flip if she knew that after Googling avalanches Emily had gone on to search how long it took to freeze to death, how cold it had to be. Just because she was interested really…not… Well she needed to know what to do in an avalanche didn’t she?

  A chill ran down her spine and she cupped her hands around the mug, staring down at the tea, hugging the warmth.

  Focus. Think about something else.

  "Who's the grumpy friend?" she whispered. "What's his problem?"

  He looks as miserable as I feel.

  "Jake's a friend of Scott's, they used to work as ski guides together. He made it onto the British Winter Games team.” Holly lowered her voice and peered anxiously over Emily's shoulder, checking he wasn't about to appear behind them. "Apparently he had quite a good chance in his category but he had an accident and tore his cruciate ligament so now he can’t compete. Scott thought having to stay in the training accommodation while he waits for surgery would really rub it in."

  "Oh I see." Emily sipped her tea, the familiar ritual soothing her. It was to have someone else's doom and gloom to think about for a change. "I suppose it must be pretty miserable for him."

  But he could still make a bit of an effort surely? I am.

  Perhaps he was too fed up to care. Maybe she should try to cheer him up? It would be something to do. Focusing on someone else's problems might be good for her. Helping Holly out would be great too. It was nice to feel useful, to know that someone at least wanted her around.

  "Let me show you your room." Holly headed into the hall, taking her tea with her. "We're on our own at the moment, just the four of us. Tash, one of the other chalet girls, is with is normally with us all year round but she's helping to get the chalet in Italy ready for the season and we've a week before the other girls come out to join us. Once the lifts open it'll be manic. I'd enjoy the peace and quiet before the hoards come out if I were you. I've put you in one of the guest rooms for this week but next week it'll have to be the dorm room I'm afraid, is that okay?"

  "Of course," Emily replied, following Holly who opened the door to a smart guest room.

  Emily stared at the bed made up with crisp white linen, a faux fur throw artfully arranged at the end of the bed. Some paperbacks were stacked on the bedside table to one side of the bed with a box of tissues. On the other stood a bottle of mineral water and an oil reed diffuser that filled the room with the sweet scent of orange blossom.

  It all looked fantastic. But it would be the first time she'd slept alone in a double bed for a very long time. The past week she’d spent on Pippa’s futon in baby Lexie’s room hadn’t counted somehow. In a double bed you could really feel the absence, the aching void of space to the side of you…

  It'd been a long time since she'd been on her own and it felt like a backward step, a failure.

  "You'll be okay." Holly squeezed her arm.

  "Yes, I will. I'll be fine." Emily blinked hard. She was going to have to get that bloody badge made up.

  No crying. I've got to stop leaking all over the place. I will not feel sorry for myself.

  She put her bags down onto a tan leather armchair and stroked the fur throw, it felt silky-soft and soothing to her fingertips.

  Holly perched on the end of the bed. "We're branching out a bit this season - our clients are demanding more unique experiences. The days of just doling out ski passes and pointing them to the lifts are so over. Anyway, I was thinking you and Jake could help us out, test run some of the experiences before we let them loose on the punters."

  "Sure, whatever I can do to help." The smile was frozen in place on Emily's face. It would be fun, she'd make it fun. And she'd put a smile on grumpy Jake's face if it killed her.

  "Do you want to go out tonight? Go for anesthesia by cocktail?" Holly got up from the bed.

  "Hmm, I don't know, not tonight. I think I'll just unpack and get an early night, it's been a long day." The effort of controlling her emotions was proving exhausting.

  Emily tried not to look at the pitifully small amount of luggage in the room. It'd been easier just to throw all her stuff into the packing boxes now squatting in various friends' loft spaces than sorting everything methodically. An
d she'd been at the 'who gives one?' stage of dumpee grief. She’d lost everything, her home, her boyfriend, her future and her self-confidence in one foul swoop. Did it really matter what T-Shirt she packed?

  Oh well, she could always go shopping.

  "Okay, I'll leave you to it. Give us a shout if you're hungry or want some company." Holly left the room quietly, as though trying not to disturb an invalid.

  Emily flopped back on the bed, nestling into the soft fur throw. After a day of holding herself together it was a relief to finally be on her own. It felt awful to be glad that Amelia's mother had fallen ill meaning Amelia had to delay coming back to Chalet Repos for the season. But given Emily’s temp job had come to an end it had spared Emily the horrors of going home to her parents tiny cottage in Suffolk, of having to admit that mum had been right about Steve and listen to the constant snippy reminders that she wasn’t getting any younger.

  Unendurable.

  She shuddered.

  With no siblings she was the only potential source of grandchildren. As her mum never stopped reminding her. As though her sole reason for existing was to procreate and Emily was willfully remaining childless just to be spiteful.

  But…what was her reason for being exactly?

  Shut up Emily. Stop thinking.

  It was far easier to focus on work prospects. Temping had always seemed a good option, given the lack of good permanent jobs out there. It’d given her lots of office experience and made sense given she and Steve had been planning to move to the country anyway.

  But it had given her sod all security.

  She lay on the bed, hugging her arms tightly around her body and trying to hold back the tide of panic. She wrestled the peculiar sense she was floating away into nothing.

  Get a grip.

  She pulled out her phone to check the daily inspiration app that came with the 'Think Yourself Happy' audiobook.

  Before you go to sleep each night think of ten things that make you smile and give thanks for them.

  “Okay, let’s do this then.” She swallowed down the panic and thought.

 
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