Hope Yorke was not having a good morning. It started when her alarm clock didn’t go off, causing her to bolt upright in bed when the doorman called to let her know her car had arrived. After the fastest shower ever, and the heaviest morning traffic in ages, things only got worse. Just as she walked out of Starbucks, some asshole slammed into her, causing her scalding hot latte to spill down the front of her black Donna Karan wrap dress and drip all the way down onto her brand new pink satin Louboutin heels.

She had waited three months for those shoes to come in on back order from Paris. Thankfully, she always kept several spare outfits in her office, so after another quick shower and change of clothes—a royal blue Calvin Klein belted Ponte knit dress with a black pair of Jimmy Choo suede pumps—she walked into the company board meeting quite late, a meeting in which her father sat at the head of the table. Taking her seat to his right, she didn’t miss the look of disappointment that flashed across his stern features as he nodded to her.

“Nice of you to join us, Hope.”

“My apologies to you all.” She glanced around the table, making eye contact with each board member at the table. She may be the boss’s daughter, but she expected no special treatment and had earned her right to sit at this table. Hope had graduated with honors from Columbia University with a major in Business Management and a minor in English and Comparative Literature, and for the last six years, she had worked her way up through the ranks of her father’s publishing company. At only twenty-eight years old, she was proud to be the youngest ever Senior Vice President of US Publishing to sit at this table.

“I had a small accident on my way in this morning.”

Her father’s hand immediately reached out and covered hers as he asked quietly, “Are you all right, Hope?”

She nodded and smiled at him in return. “Yes, Father, I’m fine.” She patted his hand and then, addressing the board, continued, “If someone will just catch me up, let’s continue with the meeting.”

The meeting lasted well past lunch and into the afternoon, so by the time Hope was back in her office, she had endless emails and messages to return. She was off to her lake house in Vermont that evening, and the sooner she could get through things, the sooner she could get on the road.

Several hours later, Emily, Hope’s assistant, stood in the entrance to her office. “Excuse me, Miss Yorke, it’s after five. Billy is on the phone and wants to know if you’ll still require the helicopter this evening, or if you’ve changed your mind about heading North?”

“Shit!” Jumping up, she gathered her computer and paperwork and stuffed them into her bag. “I had no idea it had gotten so late! Yes, please ask Billy to wait, and can you also have Ed bring the car around to the front? It’s faster if we leave from there instead of the garage entrance.”

“Of course, Miss Yorke.” Emily was out the door and back at her desk making the necessary calls before Hope could say another word.

Quickly pulling on her trench coat, she grabbed her bags and headed to take the elevator down to the lobby as fast as her heels would allow. She walked outside into the chilly fall air to find Ed waiting for her at the curb beside the car. He tipped his head in greeting. “Miss Yorke. Seaport Helipad?”

Giving him a nod, she handed him her computer bag. “Yes, please, Ed, the quicker the better. I completely lost track of time.”

She climbed into the back as he closed the door behind her. The car carried a light scent of the Old Spice aftershave he always wore, which Hope thought was better than any air freshener that could have been used. She heard him load her bag into the trunk, and then he was in the driver’s seat and pulling smoothly into traffic. “I’ll get you there as quick as I can, Miss. Traffic’s a little heavy right now, it being Friday night and all.”

“Thank you again, Ed. Billy’s waiting at the helipad for me, so I appreciate it.”

“Just you going up North this weekend, Miss?” Weathered blue eyes looked at her in question from the rear-view mirror.

“Yep, just me. Need a bit of a break from everything.”

Ed knew it was a little more than that. He knew that almost two weeks ago she’d come back early from a business trip and, instead of going home, had decided to surprise her boyfriend of two years at his place. The surprise was on her, though, when she walked in and found him screwing some redhead on the kitchen counter. Ed knew this because he was behind her with her bags. He was also the one to cold-cock that prick Dylan in the chin when he ran after her as she turned and fled. He then listened to her cry in the backseat of the car as he drove her back to her apartment. Yeah, Ed knew she needed a little break all right.

They reached the heliport, and Ed helped her out of the car and grabbed her computer bag from the trunk. After entering the terminal and confirming their identities, Ed walked with Hope to the helipad where Billy was waiting next to the helicopter. He smiled wide at Hope and nodded to Ed in greeting as he walked out to meet them.

“We’re all set to go, Miss Yorke. I’m sorry I can’t take you all the way up this time. Tower says the rain and wind are a bit too strong to take the chopper.”

“It’s no problem at all, Billy. At least we can still take the plane.” Hope was getting seated in the chopper now, with Billy making sure her straps were buckled securely. He circled around the chopper, hopped in on his side, and strapped himself in.

“It should be a quick fifteen minutes over to the airport. The plane is ready and waiting for you at the terminal.”

Hope nodded in acknowledgment as the chopper took flight over the river and then banked to the left toward LaGuardia. These were the perks of being a Yorke. Hope had private helicopters and planes to take her wherever she needed to go, when she wanted to go, and this weekend, all she wanted was some time to herself. She was looking forward to curling up with a book in front of the fire, drinking wine, sleeping late, going for long walks around the lake, and just forgetting about the last couple of weeks.

What a prick Dylan turned out to be. She knew she wasn’t in love him and probably wouldn’t ever have married him. But still, what happened to having a little respect and just breaking things off with someone, instead of cheating on them? They were supposed to be damn grownups, after all. Humiliation still burned in her gut. Of course, within hours, there were endless deliveries of flowers and calls from Dylan asking for forgiveness. After one phone call back, calmly telling him to go fuck himself, or better yet, the redhead, she threw herself into her work, putting in sixteen-hour days to try to numb the pain of her new reality. That was almost two weeks ago, and the long days had caught up with her.

As promised, fifteen minutes later, they landed at LaGuardia. A shuttle was waiting to drive her over to the private terminal where the company jet was housed. Upon arrival, she boarded the plane and made herself comfortable in one of the white leather seats.

“Good evening, Miss Yorke. It’s nice to see you.” Sylvia, one of the regular flight attendants on board, seemed to appear from nowhere, ready to make sure Hope was comfortable and didn’t need anything.

“Hello, Sylvia. Nice to see you, as well. Do you think you could get me some coffee?”

“Of course. Are you hungry? I can make you anything on the menu.”

“Just the coffee for now. Thank you.”

Sylvia smiled and made her way to the small galley.

The Captain boarded the plane and greeted Hope with a warm smile. “All pre-checks are done, Miss. We can leave as soon as the tower gives us clearance.”

“Wonderful, Glenn. Thank you.” Sylvia appeared and handed Hope a mug of freshly brewed coffee, of course, prepared exactly to her liking, and then disappeared back in the galley.

“There’s a pretty good storm going on from Montpelier and up through Canada, so things may get a little bumpy at the tail end of our flight.”

Her brow furrowed. “Any reason to be concerned or delay my flight?”

“We’ll get you there no problem. Your father would have my neck in a noose if I did anything to harm his most precious asset.” He gave her a friendly wink and headed to the cockpit.

Several minutes later, they were in the air and leaving the island of Manhattan behind. She felt lighter and lighter as the distance between her and the city grew. Going up to the lake house was her sanctuary, and she couldn’t wait to get there. Her grandfather had built the house on Lake Champlain over seventy years ago. It wasn’t an extravagant house in any way. In fact, it was the complete opposite of what her home and life were like in the city. The lake house was rustic, all wood and stone and everything a house on a country lake should be.

The first floor was one big open space that contained the kitchen, dining, and living room. The entire back side of the living room wall was made up of windows that overlooked a huge deck and, of course, the beautiful lake. There was a stone fireplace that made up one side wall in the living room and was surrounded by big, over-stuffed sofas. The sofas were strewn with throw pillows and lap blankets made of the softest fabrics. She loved to sit on those couches for hours just staring out at the lake, watching the world swim by.

Upstairs were four bedrooms, one on each corner of the house, with a bathroom on each side, between each room. The beds were still covered with quilts that Hope’s grandmother had made by hand. Soft, thick rugs were on the wooden floors of each room, helping to keep toes warm on cold winter mornings. The master bedroom faced the lake and had another stone fireplace along the wall.

The only rooms in the house to be updated had been the bathrooms. Until she was around three, only cold water ran through the house, and the plumbing was limited. Her father had made it a priority to update the plumbing and bathroom fixtures, more for his comfort than anyone else’s. Her mother had grown up at the lake house, so it had never bothered her. Her father did stay true to the style of the house, outfitting the bathrooms with beautiful claw foot bath tubs and antique vanities. The first time her mother took a hot bubble bath in one of the huge tubs, she had declared that perhaps this time her husband had been right.

Forty-five minutes later, a bit of turbulence jarred the plane, signaling their arrival at the edge of the storm. She sat up straighter, pulled her seatbelt tight, and prepared herself for a bumpy ride. When she lifted the shade on the window, splatters of wind-driven rain hit the glass, blackened by the night sky.

“We’ll be landing in about twenty minutes, but it will be a rough few minutes. Can I get you anything before I buckle in?” Sylvia had magically appeared again.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” She watched Sylvia sway back and forth from the turbulence as she made her way back to the front of the plane to secure herself for the rest of the flight.

She wasn’t afraid of flying but wasn’t particularly fond of being on a plane bouncing through the air at thirty thousand feet. She clutched onto the arm rests and counted the minutes until she heard the plane’s landing gear descend. A few more drops and vicious sways, and the plane finally bounced onto the runway, wing flaps up and brakes squealing. Looking out the window again, Hope saw that the rain was pouring down and blowing sideways from the power of the wind. The plane slowly made its way to a private hanger, where it parked, a dry shelter from the storm.

Her Range Rover was parked in the hanger, and she thanked her lucky stars that she had driven it up here the last time she had visited. Her Mercedes S-Coupe wouldn’t have handled the weather very well, but she had no doubt the Rover could. She unbuckled and gratefully accepted her trench coat from Sylvia.

“Are you sure you want to drive to the house in this weather, Miss Yorke? Maybe it would be better for you to stay in town tonight until the storm passes?” Sylvia questioned with nothing but concern.

“I’ll be just fine.” Smiling warmly, she patted her on the shoulder. “I have the Range Rover, and I know the roads like the back of my hand.”

“Well, all right then. Will we be seeing you again for the ride back, or will you be driving down?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I’ll make sure to let the team know by Sunday. I won’t be leaving until Monday at the earliest.”

Sylvia handed over her computer bag and purse then walked with her to the door. It had been opened and the stairs lowered for her exit.

“All right, Miss, please drive carefully, and as always, nothing but the best wishes for you.”

“Thank you.” Hope gave her a warm smile and started down the stairs. Glenn was waiting at the bottom to greet her.

“Sorry about the rough landing. Damn winds fought us every step of the way.” He shook his head in frustration.

“Glenn, it was fine. We’re all here in one piece.” She walked toward the Rover.

“Well, the keys are in the Range Rover, and it’s all gassed up for you. Maggie already stocked the house for you, so you should be fine once you get there.”

“Wonderful. I’m not sure about my return plans yet, but I’ll let you and your team know as soon as I decide.” Opening the rear door, she placed her computer bag and purse in the seat, taking her cell phone out to keep in the front with her.

“Very good. You just enjoy your time here, and we’ll be ready if you need us.”

“Thanks so much, Glenn.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and climbed in behind the steering wheel.

“You be careful on those roads, Hope.” He shut the door, hit the roof once with his palm, and walked away.

With a push of a button, the Rover roared to life, and she backed out of the hanger and headed toward the airport exit. The wipers were on at full blast as the rain pelted down and the wind whipped leaves and debris up from the road. Under normal circumstances, it generally took about thirty minutes to get to the lake house, but given the weather, she knew it might take longer. She hoped that the power hadn’t been knocked out. It was a common occurrence around the lake when the weather turned bad.

She saw the sign for the highway entrance and merged to the right to enter. The highway was dark and wet, without another vehicle in sight. It was only a little after nine o’clock, but people must have been smarter than her, already at their homes, dry, and warm. The wipers continued to swish quickly back and forth, working hard to keep her view clear. She only had to be on the highway for one exit, but this far North, exits were about ten miles apart from each other. Reaching down, she turned the radio on but got nothing but static, so she hit the CD button and scrolled through until the fourth CD came up. “Round Here” by the Counting Crows started playing over the speakers, and she sang along. This disc was one of her favorites and hadn’t been taken out of the Rover since she purchased it.

Soon enough, she reached the exit and pulled off to merge onto Route 2. She was halfway to the house now, but this is where the roads got a little trickier. It was a simple two-lane road, curvy, and there wasn’t a street light for miles. She knew the road well, though, and continued to sing her heart out as she drove through the storm, feeling safe in the sturdy SUV. Another fifteen minutes and she’d be there.