I give my head a shake, scolding my filthy thoughts for veering that way so easily.

His hand suddenly stills. I feel that cool and yet iron-hot gaze on my profile, and my cheeks flush in response. It’s like he knows what I’m thinking. “Bookings?”

I force my mind back to the meeting.

“We are nearly booked solid through to August,” Belinda announces proudly, as if she single-handedly had something to do with that. “We have guests calling and asking about cancellation wait lists.”

Henry’s lips twitch. The only indication that he’s pleased. “The grand opening. Give me an update.”

Belinda punches something into her iPad. “All media outlets have RSVP’d and rooms have been assigned to ensure we have them prepped adequately.” She goes on to list names of people I don’t know but who must be critical attendees for the event, which sounds like a lavish ball.

Henry scribbles something on his notepad while she talks, and sets it on my lap, his knuckles brushing against my thigh.

Make sure my tux is in my closet. I don’t remember packing it.

I make a note to check when I get back to the cabin. It’s such a simple but personal request, and I find myself reveling in the fact I get to root through his closet for him.

Belinda is still talking. “You and I can go over the dossiers on everyone—”

He cuts her off with, “Send Abbi the rundown of each member attending. She’ll brief me directly.”

The corners of her mouth twitch. “Fine.” It’s curt and not at all pleasant.

“Any staff issues?”

“None so far.” Her eyes flicker toward me and I promptly avert my gaze. Would he have told her about yesterday? She seems to be in on everything else so far.

“Okay. Thanks, everyone. Abbi will send out a meeting request for tomorrow’s update.”

Just like when the bell rings in class, everyone scrambles to gather their things, ready to run.

Everyone except Belinda, who remains in her chair with one leg crossed over the other, the side slit in her skirt so high that it reveals the end of her garter. “Can I have a word with you?”

Henry gives her a fleeting gaze. “About?”

“Your father.”

He heaves a sigh and, resting his elbows on the table, he hooks his hands behind the back of his neck and bows his head. “Abbi, summarize and send out those notes to the group. Also, there are a few presentations I’ve printed out and made notes of in the margins sitting on my desk. Please summarize and send those off to the names listed on them for follow-up by tomorrow. And see if you can get me an hour-long in-room massage with Michael for this evening before dinner.”

“In-room?” He said he didn’t want anyone in his space.

“Yes. Text me with the time.” He sighs. “Okay, Belinda. What is it?”

I take that as my cue to leave, unscathed and still employed, and I take it without another word.

Chapter Fifteen

“Michael?” A towering man dressed all in black, his t-shirt stretched across a fit, lean body, stands outside the cabin, folded table at his side. He must be at least six-foot-four.

“That’s me.” He holds up his employee badge to prove it, the deep dimples in the picture matching the ones he flashes at me now. He has a disarming smile.

“Come in.” I step back, ducking my head to hide my inevitable blush, the one that burns any time an attractive man’s eyes are on me.

His arms strain as he lifts the table over the threshold before setting it back and running a hand through his sandy-blond cropped hair. “I’m guessing Mr. Wolf wants this set up over there?” He nods toward the windows overlooking the water, then looks to me, waiting for an answer. I catch his eyes dipping down to my chest but they shift back to my face quickly.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” I admit, trailing him to the far side.

“I’ll move it if he wants. Damn, this is a nice place.” His eyes graze over the space, landing on the massive stone fireplace. “You want a tip to impress your boss? Get that thing going.”

“Now?” It’s only five and not nearly cold enough.

“Maybe not right now, but on a cold night, definitely. Trust me. Whenever he’s visiting the Aspen location and he brings me in, he always has a fire going. He said it reminds him of being at his grandparents’ place up here.”

“Thanks for the tip.” Maybe I’ll surprise him with one tonight. It’s the least I can do after what I did yesterday.

“No problem.” Michael has the table unfolded and set up in seconds. He’s obviously been doing this for a while.

“So you work at the Wolf in Aspen?”

“Yup. Here, help me with this sheet?”

I hide my grimace and grab an end. We stretch the elastics around the ends, covering the mattress board. “Are you from Colorado, originally?”

“Nah. Just outside Pittsburgh. Small town called Stipling.”

My face breaks into a wide smile. “No way! Seriously?” There’s comfort in finding another person from a small town in Pennsylvania, especially given I’m so far away from everything I know. “I’m from Greenbank. Have you heard of it?” Most times people haven’t but by Michael’s matching grin, I already know what his answer is going to be.

“Hell yeah! I played baseball up there every year.”

“Seriously?” Now I’m giddy. “I may have watched your games. My fiancé played, too. I was at the diamond all summer. Wait, how old are you?”

“Twenty-seven.”

I laugh. “Okay, maybe not.”

“Still, small world.” He shakes his head, smiling down at me. I grin back, snatching the end of the loose sheet to help him lay it over the table, a new sense of ease slipping into my body.

“So, does your fiancé still play?”

“No. And... ex.” I waggle my naked hand, ignoring the sudden thickness in my throat at that admission. It’s not as bad as in the past, at least.

“Oh, sorry.” He shrugs. “I have one of those, myself. Glad we pulled the plug on that one. It would have been a mistake.”

I sigh wistfully while I help him stretch a cream-colored wool blanket over the top of the sheet. Will I ever be able to say that about Jed and me so casually? Will I see his betrayal as my way of dodging a bullet?

“So how did you end up here, being personally requested for massages by billionaire hotel owners?”

He chuckles. “I specialized in sport massage therapy in college, but was having a hard time getting a job so I applied for an opening at the Wolf in Aspen. Figured a lot of skiers meant work. Mr. Wolf was there one winter and he injured his leg on the slopes, so they sent me up to his room. I helped him through it and now he always asks for me when he’s in town. He personally offered me a job here, which is great seeing as Aspen’s dead in the summer.” Michael stretches his long arms over his head, bending them at the elbows, as if warming up.

“Lucky you, getting hand-picked by the big boss,” I tease, though I suppose I was handpicked, too.

“You wouldn’t believe how many of my female coworkers have begged me to play sick so they can take my place.” He snorts and shakes his head. “Dude’s got it goin’ on.”

I think I can. Given permission to rub your hands all over Henry Wolf’s body? I can’t even imagine it, but I’m suddenly jealous of Michael.

And Henry, I accept, as I reach up to knead my own sore bicep absently. Jed used to give me back rubs. I miss them.

Michael picks up on it immediately. “Sore?”

“Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”

“It’s got to be stressful, trying to keep up with his schedule. Come here.” He reaches for me, his long arm span closing the distance with two steps. Grabbing me by the waist, he hoists me onto the table as if I weigh nothing at all.

“Is this okay?” I tense as one of his large, strong hands runs along the top of my back, from shoulder to shoulder, his fingers splayed slightly.