"You can do another if you want?" There was no way I could, my legs felt like Jell-O. I didn't know why rich-people sports had to be so exhausting.

"No that’s ok. We should get ready for tonight anyway, we have that gala to attend."

Oh yeah…I'd forgotten all about it in my renewed obsession with Jackson. I didn't dare ask if Ellis had inquired about Jackson; it made me too nervous, and I didn't want to know anyway.

"By the way," Ellis began, "I asked about--"

At that moment we were interrupted from behind by someone shouting, "Hey Ellis!" We turned and saw a slightly overweight man, around Ellis' age, skiing towards us rapidly. "Ellis Buchanan!"

"Marty!" Ellis shouted, glowing with excitement. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes as the two shook hands. This always happened. It seemed like Ellis knew everyone here, was always running into people.

"Marty, this is my girlfriend, Mia. Mia, this is an old college buddy of mine, Marty Thompson."

Then this part: Marty looked me over as if he were appraising me, as if he were sizing up my suitability for a blue blood like Ellis.

"Pleased to meet you," Marty bubbled, a big fake smile spreading across his face. I mustered a smile and shook his hand.

"I'll catch you guys later," I said, "I need to pick some stuff up for the house."

"Bye sweetie," Ellis simpered, leaning in for a peck.

We kissed, then I clipped out of my skis, threw them over my shoulder, and walked the few hundred feet to our slope-side home.

The moment I stepped inside my phone buzzed.  It was a message from Ellis. He was probably texting me to say he and Marty were going to the clubhouse for some drinks and that he would be late getting home. I'd have the big, cold house all to myself until an hour before the gala.

Yup, sure enough: Marty and I are headed to the club for drinks. I'll be back a little late.

Rrrgh! What was I supposed to do? Go shopping again? Lay around the pool by myself?

Maybe I'd call the head of the ski school myself and ask where Jackson was.

No, I couldn't do that…I really shouldn’t.

I bit my fingernails nervously. I was starting to bite my nails a little too much lately. Maybe I was losing my mind.

I did what I usually did when I thought I might be going crazy: I poured myself a drink and slammed it down. Then I threw the glass in the empty glass in the sink, grabbed the bottle instead, and headed outside to the pool.

When Ellis arrived a couple of hours later I was starting to drift into an alcoholic haze.

"Mia!" he exclaimed, eying the half-empty bottle of whiskey placed on the floor next to where I was spread out on a pool lounger. It was The Glenlivet, his favorite, and he knew I hated whiskey.

"What?" I demanded, registering his presence from behind my sunglasses. I was hoping we'd get into a fight, right here, and that our stupid rich neighbors would overhear us.

"We have to be at that gala in an hour, and here you are, getting drunk by the pool." Ellis shook his head.

"Oh, give it a rest," I said, standing up, "I'm not drunk. I'll get ready."

But I was a little drunk, and it took some focus to force myself to walk back towards the patio door. Ellis followed, carrying the whiskey bottle.

I walked to the bedroom, still in my ski clothes, and pulled them off, all $1500 worth of ugly Gore-Tex, and left them crumpled on the floor. I searched my closet for something suitable, and settled on a slinky black cocktail dress, next to my three other slinky black cocktail dresses. I threw it on, pinned my hair up, and dashed some makeup on my face, all in the course of five minutes.

"There," I said, "I'm ready."

"Mia..."

"What? I'm ready."

"This is one of the most important events of the season, and you didn't even take ten minutes. I try my best to deal with you, I really do, but sometimes you act like a spoiled child. The least you can do is take a shower."

"Oh really," I sneered, "a spoiled child. How do you think I feel coming here? I don't know a single damn person here. I don't know how to ski, I barely know how to act at all these fancy dinners full of famous people. When you're not around all I do is sit here by the pool and drink."

"I know that, Mia. I've tried my best to introduce you to people. I've done everything in my power to make you feel comfortable here, but lately you've been throwing it all back in my face. I've been trying to understand, but sometimes I just can't."

I watched as the frustration began to grow in his eyes. And then he turned away, unable to even look at me, struggling to contain his emotions.

"Goddammit!" he finally bellowed, punching the wall next to him. I almost jumped out of my skin.

"And I'm trying to find your stepbrother," he said, his voice measured again, "The one person you do know. For whatever reason you can't even find him on your own. I don't even want to ask why."

I looked at myself blankly in the mirror, chastened. I didn't want to admit it, but Ellis was right. Instead of speaking my mind, actually talking to him, I'd been acting like a spoiled brat instead.

"Ellis, I'm sorry," I finally said. And I meant it. I reached out and touched his arm.

"Why don't you drive down to the Hilton, and I'll come join you after I’ve prepared myself properly."

He nodded in agreement and then left. I went over to the window and watched as he walked to his Land Rover. He drove away, and then I put my hair down, wiped the makeup off, and started all over.

After I looked perfect and put-together for Ellis, I finally headed out the door. I got in my BMW and drove into town, an hour late, but in control of myself once again.

I slowly pulled up outside of the exclusive hotel. I spotted the red carpet unrolled for the gala, the gaggle of limousines in front of the building, the valets idling around waiting for someone to attend to, the bored photographers adjusting their equipment. I came to a stop for a brief second, then drove right past.

I decided to go in the back way, through the bar. I found an anonymous parking spot towards the back of the lot and started walking through the slushy parking lot in my heels. My phone buzzed with a message from Ellis.

 

Where are you?? Hurry please.

I picked up my pace, quickly smiling at the doorman as I ducked into the building. I had better get there before I ruined everything with Ellis.

The bar was dark and raucous, packed with people. Rich socialites were everywhere, still in their ski boots and getting wasted on expensive liquor. I started to push through the mob, hurrying for the entrance to the hotel. The whole room was charged with sex and money, like a time bomb ready to explode. And right in the middle of it all was my stepbrother!

He was leaning against the bar coolly, surveying the room like a lion looking over his domain. My heart jumped into my throat. He looked the same as he had when he left, just older, more muscular, his face tanned and weathered by years of Colorado skiing, and his tousled hair bleached by the sun. My heart began pounding wildly in my chest.

My phone buzzed again, compelling me to action. I kept walking, arriving next to Jackson. I grabbed his arm, pulling his attention away from something, or someone, across the room.

"Jackson!" I yelled, above the din of the crowd. I watched his eyes grow wide with surprise.

"Mia?"

"I've got to meet somebody, I’m sorry I don’t have any time to chat," I told him. "Call me!"