Chapter 12
“Ouch! That hurt, but I see where you’re going,” Parker said, obviously chagrined by her comment.
Angelica offered up a mischievous grin but said not a word.
“I owe you an apology. I was tired.” He held up a gloved hand. “And I know that’s not an excuse for being so crabby, but I’d like to start over.” He gave her his dazzling smile again, and her heart did another flip-flop.
She liked that he’d used the word crabby. A regular guy, not the suave sophisticated GQ type she normally dated. Angelica was getting way ahead of herself, though. First, he’d only asked her to ski with him, and she didn’t really believe that qualified as a date. Second, she lived on the East Coast. What happened if she really liked the guy? No way would she commute from coast to coast for a date.
“Earth to driver,” Parker said, jolting her back to the present.
Looking at him as though he had two heads, she wasn’t sure if he was insulting her while trying to apologize.
A driver? Am I being oversensitive? Yes, I am. It was so unlike her to be so offended by comments that were simply comments. The critics had been beyond hard on her many times throughout her career. It went with the territory. So why him and why now? Why am I so defensive with this man?
“Apology accepted,” she said before she changed her mind. It had been late when he’d rescued her. She could be a tiger herself when she didn’t get enough sleep. Maybe Parker was telling the truth. He had fallen asleep last night in the car, after all. So maybe he had been overly tired. Besides, she had no real reason not to trust him. She’d met and made friends on the slopes many times before. No harm in hanging around with the guy for a few hours.
He opened the door and climbed out of the car, then smacked his gloved hand against the roof. “So I’ll meet you at the private lift in a couple of hours. If you agree,” he added, offering her his drop-dead killer smile.
Two hours would be more than enough time to go to the market, make breakfast, and prepare herself to spend the day skiing with a really hot guy. She smiled. “I’ll be there.”
Parker closed the door, winked at her through the window, then turned away and walked toward the registration office.
She gave a half wave and backed out of the parking lot onto the main road that led to the center of Maximum Glide. Angelica slowed the SUV to a crawl, searching for another parking spot, when she spied a black Hummer leaving. She whipped the Navigator into the spot before someone beat her to it. Grabbing her purse and keys, she opened the door and, once again, was greeted by bitter cold, but the kind of cold that didn’t make you cringe and race back inside. After New York, where the cold was damp from the ocean, she found the sharp coolness refreshing.
The sidewalks in the village were clear of all traces of ice and slush. Angelica observed several maintenance men working hard to keep the streets and pathways clear. Briefly, she wondered if Parker was part of this crew, but he really didn’t look like he spent too much time in the sun. Maybe he was a supervisor and spent his time behind a desk. It didn’t really matter what his profession was. In two weeks, he would be nothing more than a memory. A pleasant one, she hoped.
She found the village market around the corner from the Snow Zone, a ski supply shop she planned to visit later. Her old ski jacket wasn’t quite as warm as some of the newfangled ones she’d seen in the catalogues; it was time to replace it.
Entering the market, Angelica was greeted by the scent of fresh-baked bread, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since her last bite of chocolate yesterday. With the warm yeasty smell guiding her, she found the bakery at the back of the store. As expected, the line was long, and she could see plenty of baked goods displayed for those waiting in line. Several young women wore white coats, with their hair matted against their heads with the required hairnet. Each performed her task with a smile on her face. Angelica thought that she might like to learn how to bake someday.
As the line inched closer to the front, she made a mental list of the supplies she would need for the next two weeks. She added a bottle of wine and a nice pair of filets, thinking if the opportunity arose, she would invite Parker to her cabin for dinner.
Greeted by a friendly blonde, Angelica selected a loaf of freshly baked sourdough bread, three poppy seed bagels, four red velvet cupcakes, and a loaf of French bread. With both arms loaded, she headed to the front of the market, where she found a small shopping cart. In New York, she usually just grabbed a few things and never required a shopping cart, only buying as much as she could carry home on foot. She walked up and down the narrow aisles, picking items that she normally wouldn’t even consider and placing them in her cart. Two bags of potato chips, something she never indulged in as her profession didn’t encourage weight gain. A large hunk of dark chocolate because she simply could not go a day without it. She filled the cart with cans of soup, milk, eggs, and two packages of precooked bacon. In the produce section, she filled bags with apples, oranges, and grapefruit. At least some of her purchases were healthful, she observed, while waiting at the checkout counter.
Ten minutes later, she had the Navigator loaded with groceries. As she pulled out of the parking place, she glanced at the clock on the dash. She had more than an hour before it was time to meet Parker at the lift.
Angelica felt blissfully happy, totally alive.
Did this have anything to do with Parker, or was it simply the fact she was on vacation and had shucked all responsibilities for the next two weeks? It didn’t matter. Whatever the reason, she was boundlessly happy, and didn’t care why.