Sarah Morgan - Snow Crystal Trilogy

She’d learned to live with it, but tonight the O’Neils had ripped away all the protection she’d so carefully wrapped around herself, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.

It wasn’t just the hostility, although there was no doubt Walter had been openly hostile. Alice and Elizabeth had been almost smothering in their affection and level of welcome, and that was almost as bad.

She kept her interaction with people superficial. She didn’t bond. She didn’t make attachments. She didn’t want attachments.

But if she wanted this business, she was going to have to find a way of working with the O’Neils.

Snuggling against the pile of soft pillows, she sipped her tea and thought about what lay ahead.

The family setup might be unusual, but the business problems weren’t.

Tonight had been a disaster, but not because she didn’t know her job. Because of the people. Because she had no idea how to relate to them.

She told herself she didn’t have to bond with them to help them.

No one was asking her to become part of the family.

All she had to do was win their trust, find out what mattered to them and what they needed and then produce a tailored marketing plan that would solve their problems.

It really wasn’t that hard.

She had to ignore the other stuff.

She especially had to ignore the chemistry with Jackson.

SHE WAS AWAKE at five, after a night in which sleep occupied less than a few hours. That, at least, was familiar.

She stuck to her usual routine. Brisk shower followed by strong coffee and an hour spent on her laptop, first clearing emails and then working on ideas. This was always her most creative time of day, before the sun came up and her phone starting ringing. Ideas flowed, and she spread papers over the work surface in the kitchen, scribbled notes, wrote down what she’d learned, afraid to lose even a single thought, terrified that if she slowed down or stopped to think about the night before her brain would freeze again.

She paced the length and breadth of the vaulted living room, watching darkness turn to dawn and snowy treetops emerge from a blanket of early-morning mist.

The beauty of it soothed her.

Here, deep in the forest, there were no reminders of Christmas. No glittering decorations, no maniacally grinning Santas, no canned Christmas music playing on a loop. Just nature at its most peaceful.

Her emotions, violently disturbed by the events of the night before, gradually settled.

By the time she took a break, her list of questions were longer than her list of answers, and her coffee had sat untouched on the table for an hour.

Kayla drank it cold while reading the notes she’d made. Her hair hung loose over the soft white robe that had been left for her use in the luxurious bathroom and her feet were bare on the wooden floor. It was the way she always started her day. The same routine she followed each day of her life and it felt familiar and yet unfamiliar.

Lifting her head, she realized the unfamiliar was the silence.

She was used to noise. Traffic noise. Street noise. The noise of a million people jostling for space in the same small slice of a city. First London, then New York. Here, there was no traffic, no people and no noise. The trees muffled sound and the snow fell in gentle silence.

Halfway through her third cup of coffee she heard a tap on the door and looked up in dismay, assuming she’d lost track of the time.

It wasn’t Jackson who stood there, but a girl. Dark hair peeped from underneath a fur-lined hood, and she carried a large box in her arms.

Under the padded ski jacket and trousers she was slim and fit and, judging from the way she balanced the box and tapped on the door, she had no trouble walking on ice.

Resenting the disturbance, Kayla put down her mug and walked to the door. She was greeted by a punch of cold air and a friendly smile.

“Hi, you must be Kayla!” Her breath forming clouds in the freezing air, the girl walked in without waiting for an invitation and deposited the box at Kayla’s feet. “I’m Brenna. Jackson asked me to find some gear. I hope something in this box fits.” She narrowed her eyes. “Looking at you I’m guessing it might, although we might not be lucky with the boots. Your feet are smaller than mine.”

Taken aback by the familiarity and unaccustomed to early-morning visitors, Kayla tightened the knot on her robe. “I—Thanks. I’m not dressed because I’m working—” She left the door to the cabin wide-open but the other girl didn’t take the hint.

“Yeah, I saw you pacing and frowning to yourself. You should close that door. You’re letting the heat out.” Brenna pushed the door shut with her foot. “So if you’re pacing, does that mean we should all be worried?”

Kayla glanced from the door to her uninvited visitor and wondered whether anyone at Snow Crystal had heard of personal space. “Why would you be worried?” Clearly the other girl wasn’t worried about interrupting someone who didn’t want to be interrupted.

“Jackson told us all you’re a genius at getting folks through the door and making a business busy.” Brenna unzipped her jacket. “Math has never been my best subject but even I can work out that empty rooms don’t equal profit. I haven’t asked him outright, because he looks as if he has enough on his mind, but it’s obvious to me things are grim. It might be Christmas, but we’ve got plenty of room at the inn right now. We’re pinning our hopes on you.”

Kayla thought about the night before and how badly she’d performed.

“We’ll fill those rooms.” What she had to do was think of this as a business challenge, like any other. What she didn’t need to do was think of the O’Neil family all together in that kitchen. “I was working on that when you arrived.” If she thought the other girl might take a hint, she was disappointed.

Brenna nodded. “So do you want to try this stuff on? I’m assuming Jackson asked me to bring it over because he’s planning on showing you the charms of Snow Crystal.”

“You’ve spoken to Jackson?”

“Caught up with him in the bar last night. Told me you didn’t have the right gear.”

And that, Kayla thought, was an understatement.

Had he told Brenna about her undignified fall? Or, worse, about the meeting?

“Thanks for the clothes.” Pulling her professionalism around her like a cloak she moved toward the door, but instead of following her Brenna walked farther into the room.

“Do I smell coffee?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Great. You don’t mind if I help myself? Looks like you have plenty and I could do with some help waking up.” Brenna strolled to the kitchen and reached for a mug. “Need a top-up?”

“No, thanks.” She was already on her third cup, the caffeine pushing through her veins and kick-starting her sleep-deprived brain. What she needed was silence. What she didn’t need was to share her space with anyone.

The mornings were her time, before the madness of the day started in earnest.

But it didn’t seem to occur to Brenna that she might be intruding on anything. She walked around the cabin as if she owned it. Unlike Kayla, it didn’t take her five minutes of opening cupboards to find the mugs. She knew exactly where they were kept.

“I love this cabin, don’t you?” Brenna tugged off her gloves and filled the mug to the brim. “It’s my favorite. I could live here. I just love the shelf. The view is so perfect it seems like a total waste to fall asleep.”

“You’ve stayed here?”