by Laura Briggs
Lisel pushed her hair out of her face, scowling at the sight of snow rattling the window panes. She avoided looking at him or speaking to him, Marc noticed. Probably still angry that he had ruined her holiday plans by showing up.
Well, she didn't have to worry. He had no intention of forcing his company on her. He pretended to be busy studying the room service menu as she turned and marched out of the lobby.
In the dining room, other guests were chatting about their disappointment over the weather. He took a seat at a table of retired couples and outdoor enthusiasts, scanning the table for the sight of a pretty face in need of a sympathetic ear.
Strangely, none of the attractive women in the room made him want to strike up a conversation. Lingering over his chicken parmesan and pasta, he glanced around for Lisel. No sign of her in the dining room, except a brief glimpse of a blond woman in a corner booth.
The next time he saw her was in the lobby, curled up near the fireplace with a book. She was huddled against the pillows in an attitude that seemed forlorn and sad. He was tempted to approach her and say something casual, maybe apologize for supposedly ruining her holiday—as absurd as that sounded.
He knew she must be incredibly disappointed. She devoted herself to her job, only to have her much-anticipated plans shattered by the weather. He shrugged it off; after all, she didn't want him here, having a good time.
When he walked into Elk Run's lobby for the first time, his heart had sunk into his stomach. It wasn't at the sight of the elegant interior or the spacious dining room, but the sight of Lisel's profile at the desk. It reminded him of every morning at work as he watched her meticulously prepare her coffee, only her business suit was swapped for jeans and a parka.
Only she wasn't supposed to be here. This was supposed to be his free time, his week way from the office. His week away from the crazy girl who rearranged the conference room's sugar packets in color-coded slots.
From the look on her face, she wasn't too thrilled to see him either. What's more, she thought it was all his fault they were staying at the same resort, as if he'd been planning it for months. She treated him like a stalker stationed outside her living room windows. He replayed the look on her face a few times that night before falling asleep, as a reminder of why he needed to spend this week away from her.
By morning, the blizzard had died down to snow flurries, but the damage was done. He could see the frozen ski lift, the drifts piled four feet or higher. A winter wonderland all right; but one without roads or organized entertainment.
Sighing he shrugged on his clothes, then reached for his coat and scarf. Thick woolen mittens and a hat, then a pair of outdoor boots. Slipping the room key into his pocket, he exited his room and tapped on Room 212's door. There was a slight scuffling noise and a muffled voice on the other side.
The door opened to reveal Lisel standing there, arms folded. He could see a fire crackling in the grate behind her, a half-empty cup of herbal tea on the table.
"What do you want?" she asked. "Am I sleeping too loud for you?"
He hesitated. Now was the time to just walk away and forget it. Instead, he spoke.
"Do you want to go play in the snow?" he asked. She stared at him as if he were insane.
"Excuse me?" she asked.
He grinned. "You heard me," he answered. "Come on, the storm's died down and there's nothing to do. So I'm not going to hang around here all day waiting for the next batch of cookies from the kitchen."
"But it's miles deep out there." For the first time, he heard a little concern in her voice. "You could get buried in some snowdrift and end up frozen to death."
"Don't be crazy," he answered. "It's not that deep, trust me. It's probably not even three feet deep on the trails. So long as you don't stumble out on an icy road, you'll be fine."
He could see her resolve weakening. She glanced out the frozen windows at the thick blanket across the ground, the snowy sheets draped over the trees.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he asked. "Wanna see it up close?" He held out a gloved hand.
"No. Definitely not." She drew away from him and moved towards the sofa again. "Like I said before, no work-related experiences this week."
"You're scared, aren't you? Scared of falling in some big hole and getting buried like the Ice Man." He let a note of scorn creep into his voice. "Fine. If you want to miss a winter wonderland this Christmas because of me, that's your problem. But I'm telling you, it's gonna be fantastic."
He turned to go, regretting he wasted his time here. Outside, he tromped through knee-deep whiteness into the open space, where only ornamental rocks were visible protruding from its depths. He heard the sound of birds chirping in the shrubbery. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the cold air, feeling a few light flakes from the flurries land on his skin.
A large snowball smacked him in the back of the head. He stumbled forward, feeling ice slide between his scarf and skin. Yelping, he whirled around.
"You're not scared of a little snow, are you?" Lisel stood up to her knees, her coat almost brushing the snow. A pink tam and scarf contrasted with the camel-colored fabric and scarlet cheeks.
He brushed the crystals from his face. "What's with the attack?" he asked. "All I tried to do was get you to come outside."
She hesitated, then offered him a tiny smile. "Well, I'm here, aren't I?" She stuffed her hands in her coat pockets. "So what happens now?"
"Now we do this." In a lightning-fast motion, he grabbed a handful of snow from the nearest rock and formed it into an icy ball. It smacked the front of her coat, barely missing her chin.
With a shriek, she ducked behind the nearest rock to hide. Her arm appeared a moment later, lobbing a large snowball at him. Before he could dodge to the side, it smacked him in the forehead.
"That's for stealing my parking space at work!" she shouted. "And this is for changing my cell number on Downey's speed dial!" Another snowball flew over the top, missing him by inches as he ducked behind a nearby holly bush.
"You knew about that?" he yelled back. His fingers packed a handful of snow into a thick orb.
"Of course! After I missed about four meetings." Her head appeared briefly above the stone barrier, ducking low as his missile flew past. "Why do you think your personnel planner went missing afterwards?" She referred to his "little black book" of phone numbers for potential dates.
That was it. It was war from here on out. With a yell, he grabbed a handful of snow and charged over the shrubbery towards a shrieking Lisel.
He forgot how much the deep snow would impede his movements. Stumbling, he fell deep into the drifts, surrounded by walls of frozen white. He struggled to turn and get his feet beneath him, feeling small clumps of snow crumble away from the walls and powder his hair. He looked up at the sound of footsteps crunching above him to see Lisel peering into the hole.
"Told you," she said, as a silly grin spread across her face. She tucked a few strands of stray gold beneath her tam, her blue eyes filled with mirth.
It must have been the cold and snow freezing his brain. Because for a moment she looked absolutely beautiful.
*****
Lisel stormed through the hall, avoiding eye contact with the coworkers she passed. Now wasn't the time for casual workplace conversation, since she was on a mission.
She pushed open the door to the coffee room, her gaze zeroing in on Marc as he peeled open a bag of coffee. She entered and closed the door behind her, leaning against it to prevent interruption.
"Who did you tell?" Her tone was icy.
He glanced up. "About what?" A slightly guilty look crossed his face.
"About last Christmas," she hissed. "How could you, Marc? We agreed that we would never mention it to anyone." She crossed her arms as she paced across the room.
The guilty look had vanished, replaced by confusion. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "I didn't tell anyone about that." He dumped a cupful of beans into a grinder.
"They're all talkin
g about us staying at the same lodge last Christmas," she answered. "Now people are going to think we're hiding something."
"Aren't we?" he added, sarcastically.
"That's not the point; the point is, everybody will be talking about it."
"So? What does it matter?" he answered, flipping the switch on the coffee grinder. She opened her mouth to speak, but a loud roar drowned out her words. "Lots of people stay at the same hotels at the same time. Relax, no one's going to assume we planned it that way."
She reached over and flipped the switch off. "Do you have to do that while we're in the middle of a conversation?" she asked.
"If I want a cup of coffee, yeah." He flipped the switch back on.
She turned it off and gave him a no-nonsense stare. "If rumors get started —" she began. "You know how I feel about this, Marc." She blocked his way to the switch, giving him a warning look.
"Relax." He let go of the coffee grinder and stowed the coffee bean sack in the fridge. "I won't mention it again to anyone. Promise." He dumped the fresh grounds into a paper filter.
She met his eyes, her own filled with pleading. "Please, Marc. Just do this for me."
He shrugged. "Your wish is my command. I won't mention anything about the trip to anyone."
She moved away from him as the door opened and two more people entered the coffee room.
"I guess I'll email you the schedule later, then," she said, giving him a too-bright smile as she turned to go.
At her desk, she gathered her notes for the afternoon meeting with Downey. She logged onto her computer and checked the last date of use for her calendar. Despite her irritation, a slight smile flickered across her face.
Marc had obviously accessed her files this morning. No doubt planning to cancel the reservations at the last minute. Little did he know about the secret schedule in her hidden folder, with a second set of reservations for the real event.
A private box viewing of the speed skating trials and dinner at a prestigious local sports bar. Top that, Marc Romez. This time she wasn't making any announcements to Downey before the big event. This time, she wasn't giving him a chance to undo her plans before they were in motion.
Janine from cover design slowed as she passed the cubicle's opening. "Hey, Lisel," she said, lingering in the doorway. "Any big plans for Christmas this year?"
"No," Lisel answered. "Just a quiet year at home." She stuffed her paperwork into her briefcase.
"Need a rest after the big ski trip last year, huh?" said Janine. "Say, wasn't that weird about you and Marc having reservations at the same place? I'll bet that drove you crazy."
"Actually, I didn't see him," Lisel answered, as she rose from her chair. "There was so much to do I was busy the whole week." She strode from the cubicle, heading for the elevator.
As she passed the mail cart, she spotted Marc lounging against it, chatting with a couple of coworkers.
"I'll bet you had a killer time on the ski slopes last Christmas," said Greg. "Is that moonlight sleigh ride what it's cracked up to be? My wife's dying to go."
"I wouldn't know," she heard Marc answer. "They cancelled all the activities due to a blizzard. I got stuck at the hotel the whole week."
Lisel's eyes sank closed. Clearly, they needed to have another talk.
*****
"So what's the plan on the Levitz and Stacy account?" Marc pushed the button for the twelfth floor. "I'm sure by now you've come up with what 'we' intend to do." He shot her a tight smile.
"Oh, I don't know. I figured we'd just wait around for one of your last-minute brainstorms," she answered. "Maybe I don't feel like trying to actually do our jobs this time."
"Sounds good to me." He pulled a packet of breath mints from his pocket and popped a few. "Want some?" he asked, holding it out.
She stared at him, incredulously. "Seriously?" she answered.
"Yeah, there's like, twenty in here." He shook the container. She rolled her eyes.
"You know I'm talking about your attitude, Marc. The one that's going to get us both fired someday." As the elevator doors opened, she marched out. "You're really okay with going into a meeting totally unprepared. With no idea how we're going to secure a contract with Levitz and Stacy."
"Oh, that. I already have a couple of ideas," he answered. "Like, something baseball-themed, for instance. Or maybe a private box at a sports event."
She forced a look of complete surprise to her face. "How did you—" she began. "No, that's impossible. You couldn't possibly have made the same connections I did."
"Great minds think alike," he answered, pushing open the conference room door. He didn't notice the smile tugging at her lips as she took a seat at the conference table. This was one time Marc wasn't going to win. She had the second set of reservations in her bag, ready to trump his presentation.
"So, what do you two have in mind for the Levitz and Stacy contract?" Downey glanced up from his open report.
"Actually, sir," she began, "Romez and I have only started tossing a few ideas around. Nothing concrete, but I'll have him go first." She glanced in Marc's direction with a smile.
"We were thinking about something old-school. Specifically, renting Hoppy's Hamburger for an all-night extravaganza." Marc moved to the multimedia projector and turned on the slide show, plastering the conference room wall with the fast-food legend's icon.
Lisel's mouth dropped open. "But—" she began, her voice squeaking slightly.
"Given the duo's penchant for late nights and fast food, we think it's the perfect choice. Not to mention the restaurant's history as a hangout for the local skater and derby crowds." He clicked through a few snapshots, now decades old, of youth in skates and rollerblades posing in and outside the restaurant.
"Loud music, grilled burgers, and vintage fixtures. What's not to love— especially if it lands a book deal worth millions, eh?" Marc snapped off the projector and slid into his chair again.
He met Lisel's eye with a little wink. She was still frozen, her face reflecting a mixture of horror and anger.
"Brilliant," Downey was saying. "I can't believe you guys come up with this stuff overnight."
Marc shrugged. "What can I say? Great minds." He tapped the side of his head as a few board members laughed.
Downey's face turned serious for a moment. "Just remember, we're on a budget, here. Keep this event under the line, okay." He glanced between Lisel and Marc as he spoke. "Other than that, have fun with it."
"You got it." Marc answered. As Downey moved onto the subject of the spring line, he gathered his presentation and rose from the table.
She caught up with him in the hall as he pressed the button for the elevator. Practically shoving him inside, she pressed the button for their office floor.
"How could you humiliate me like that!" she hissed. "There I was, with my notes, prepared to make this deal—"
"How about what you were planning to do to me?" he interrupted. "Yeah, I knew you were setting me up, Lisel. How could I not? You haven't taken a suggestion from me seriously since the day we started working together."
"You read my private computer files!" she shot back. "Like I didn't know that you hacked into my account," she added, as he averted his eyes. "Who was it who changed our game plan last time?"
"Only because you wouldn't listen to my idea in the first place," he answered. "You push your ideas to the front and close the debate before we can even come up with something together."
She bit her lip, unable to comfortably deny it. "That's because your ideas aren't appropriate for the company's image sometimes," she answered, eyes trained on the floor.
"Yeah, well, they sure manage to land enough accounts, don't they?" he said. He turned to face the opposite wall, resting his weight on the elevator's hand rail.
Her heart stung beneath his words, but she couldn't think of a retort. I wouldn't have to push so hard if he didn't always think he was so right. She drummed her fingers against the rail as her mind struggled to escape
this train of thought.
Last Christmas, he thought he was right about something, too. But everything since then had proven him wrong; of that she was perfectly certain.
So why did everything right now feel connected to that stupid mistake?
"Speaking of coincidences, I can't believe you didn't run into Marc when you guys were staying at the same lodge," Deb remarked, hanging a silver ball on the newly-delivered office Christmas tree.
Lisel rolled her eyes. One week later and the subject of her previous Christmas kept cropping up with a persistence that annoyed her. Every question about her plans for this Christmas somehow got paired with a recollection or remark about last year. Apparently everybody in the office was fascinated with the subject of skiing.
"Well, we just didn't cross paths," she answered, trying to untangle a snarl of tinsel around a pinecone ornament. "I mean, anybody could have been staying there. Humphrey Bogart could have been a guest and I wouldn't have seen him." The ornament slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor, skittering beneath the tree.
She bent down and strained her arm to reach it. "Besides, you know Marc. He's only interested in making a romantic connection in public. No time for meaningful activities like reading books or enjoying a good fire."
Janine laughed. "Wouldn't it have been funny if there had been something between you two?" she said. "I mean, if any two people but you guys had crossed paths, I'd be pretty curious about the details after a whole week snowbound in a woodland resort."
"Well, there's nothing to tell," Lisel answered. She threaded a hook on the ornament and stuffed it on a branch.
"But you told me you were super busy that weekend," Deb chimed in. "If it was snowed in, what did you find to do? Assemble puzzles in the lounge?"
"Hey, that can be fun," Ed called out defensively from behind his cubicle walls. Deb rolled her eyes.
"I had a good book. I told you," Lisel repeated. "Plus, I went for a walk in the woods. It was just a relaxing Christmas break."
