Ava

"I can't believe you're doing this to me," I looked around the airport, my phone shoved between my ear and my shoulder, trying to find my departure gate. My mother's voice came back over the line, breezy and without a care, as usual.

"Oh, honey, you can always go to Cancun with your friends after the wedding. I'm getting married again!" Mariah Williams, 58 years old and as carefree as her 20-year-old daughter should be, sang over the line with glee. "Don't you want to come to my wedding?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, my frustration and urge to scream nearly getting the better of me. The night before I'd been packing for a trip to paradise. Lovely beaches, tropical breezes, and zero fucks given waited for me after one more sleep. Unfortunately, my mother's call just as I closed the suitcase ended my journey to paradise. She had sprung her surprise wedding on me the night before I made it to Mexico. She'd insisted I change my ticket to land in Montana so that I could attend the wedding, something I wasn't very excited about.

It's not that I acted like a sulky teenager who wants her mother to herself. I'd be happy for my mother to find a companion to spend the rest of her life with, if I'd ever actually met the man. I hadn't, and that smelled like some douchebag was about to take advantage of my mother. I'd agreed to change my plans just to throw a kink in his plans. I'd prove he was after her money and send him on his way.

"It's not that, necessarily, Mom, it's that you mixed up your own flights and won't be there. What am I supposed to do at a ski resort in the summer, on my own?" I spotted my flight number and the gate and pulled my rolling case behind me, glaring at people that happened to be in my way until they moved.

Mom's wedding wasn't the only thing that had me pissed off and walking around like I had a bug up my ass. I'd split up with my boyfriend the week before the end of the spring term. Doing finals when you were dealing with emotional damage was hard. The trip to Cancun was to help me get over the end of a year-long relationship with Andy, asshole-extraordinaire, with my friends.

"I don't know, honey, but you'll find something to do, all of you young people are always so busy, nowadays," my mother responded and I could all but see her shrugging helplessly. But then, my mother had the southern bell, damsel-in-distress thing down pat. She'd used it ever since she divorced my cheating father when I was ten and wanted to get her way. Knowing her, she'd used it long before then, I just hadn't noticed.

"Mom, I swear, if you leave me there for more than 24 hours on my own, I'll leave and go to Mexico as I'd planned," I growled at her, handing the agent at the gate the pile of papers that had spewed out of the machine when I'd checked in earlier. The woman smiled, handed me the papers back and waved me on.

"I'll be there tomorrow afternoon, I swear. Or the morning after, at the latest. I swear," I heard her say, but I knew my mother lived in her own world. She always had.

She'd grown up the princess and only daughter of a major jewelry store family, getting her way wasn't anything new to her. Which meant I'd grown up comfortably, but with her as my mother, life wasn't always great. One of us had to be a grown up, which was why I was attending Georgia University, just north of Atlanta, earning a degree in business management. I had to take over the family business one day, before she ran it into the ground. Or gave it all away to some fortune-hunting beast that would take all of her money and leave her with nothing but a broken heart and bankruptcy court.

I heard my flight number being called and held the phone away from my ear. "...from Atlanta to Bozeman is now boarding."

Well yes, it was, I thought as I walked through the tube that would take me to my plane, ready to get this all over with. I hated flying, but it was convenient. At least it was a direct flight, with a rental car waiting for me at the other end. My flight was on time, thank goodness. We left at 10:33 am and after an uneventful flight, landed at 12:52 pm, local time. Was this part of Montana one hour or two hours behind the east coast, I tried to remember as I collected the red Audio rental car I'd selected and started the engine. A quick look at my cell phone before I changed gears revealed a two-hour time difference.

With that need for knowledge satisfied, I put the car in gear and started to pull out. Only some dickhead in a black Audi tried to the same thing and nearly crashed into me. A blond man, his hair a little long on top, with eyes hidden behind the mirrored-lenses of his sunglasses leaned out of the window, shouting as he gave me the finger, and then drove off.

I gaped at the car as the guy drove off.

"First of all," I said out loud, "rude! Second of all, you're cute, but still rude!"

I gave the speeding car my own finger, looked around carefully to make sure nobody else was going to attempt to play bumper cars with me and pulled out. The drive down to the ski resort was simple enough and the onboard navigation system took me down the easiest route quickly. I'd enjoyed the scenery, which was flat in Bozeman, until I started south. I'd seen the blue shadows of the Rocky Mountains in the distance in Bozeman, but here in Snowy Mountain, I was surrounded by tall mountain landscape with several lakes in the valley below.

There was someone checking in just as I walked into the resort, so I went over to the large windows that had caught my attention as soon as I walked in. The view at the reception area of the resort was well and truly breath-taking. At least, it was until I heard a loud voice, complaining at the reception desk.

"What do you mean my credit card was declined. Try it again!" The blond man said, something about the tilt of his head familiar. Or maybe it was his hair.

I could feel the guy's pain, I'd been on the receiving end of 'your card has been declined' more than once in my life. It was always some simple issue, being in another country and the bank cutting off the card, or a swipe that went too fast. That didn't mean it wasn't embarrassing, though, especially when you know there's nothing wrong with the account. I saw the woman at the desk swipe the card again, her face red with anxiety.

I saw her face go a brighter shade of red and her eyes went wide in alarm. Oh no...I cringed for her. For him.

"I'm sorry, sir, it's still not going through."

The man, in a show of great control, took a step breath, inhaled deeply, pulled another card out of his wallet and handed it over. "Try this one."

Patience in the face of adversity, impressive. I'd totally expected him to go ballistic, but he'd calmed himself instead. I glanced over at the woman at the desk, saw the relief wash over her face and felt it myself as the lady handed back his card with a smile. "That went through, sir, thank you."

"Thank you," the guy muttered, put his card back in his wallet and waited as papers printed and the woman prepared a card key for him.

"I'm sorry about the trouble. I hope you enjoy your stay at Snowy Mountain Resort." The woman said, her smile brittle but in place. I could understand that; a crisis had been averted.

Customer service jobs had to be hard, and I'd been prepared to get my phone out to record anything that happened, if I'd needed to, but the guy had backed down. Good, I didn't want to deal with any terrible situations today. It was already bad enough I was in the mountains and not on the beach. The guy signed his name to the receipt, collected the paperwork and his key card, and turned to face me.

He didn't have sunglasses on now, but I was certain this was the man that had rolled down his window long enough to hang out and give me the finger back at the airport. I had to snap my jaw shut when it dropped open. He looked at me quizzically when he passed but he didn't recognize me. Maybe there'd been a reflection on my windshield, or he really hadn't noticed me. Either way, he walked past without a word.

I rolled my eyes at the situation, plastered on a fake smile of my own, and rolled my suitcase up to the desk. "Hello, I'm Ava Williams. My mother, Mariah Williams, made a reservation for me in her name?"

"Let me check," the woman answered with a timid smile, unsure if I was going to end up being another tyrant customer but clearly hoping I wasn't. "Ah, yes, Ms. Williams, I have your reservation and your room is ready. Let me just prepare your key and print everything out for you."

"Thank you, Beth," I checked the name on her pin again, before I looked back up to her worried brown eyes. She couldn't have been any older than 18 with her blond hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Dressed in gray slacks and white blouse, she looked out of her depth, but willing to keep trying.

"Here you are, Ms. Williams," Beth said, handing me a pen to sign one of the papers she'd printed, along with a key card. "I hope you enjoy your stay at Snow Mountain Resort."

"Thank you, Beth. Have a good day." I looked at the document she'd printed and saw my room number. I'm on the third floor?"

"Yes, your mother requested a suite for you. You take the elevator off to the left there, go up to the third floor, turn right and your suite is the second one down."

"Thanks," I smiled and went off to find my suite. It was just like my mother to order me an entire suite, not just a bedroom with a bath, which is all I needed. I was the practical one, she was anything but.

I made it up to my room and checked out the quarters. There was a small living room with a wonderful view that must be magnificent in the winter when the mountains were covered in snow. The bathroom was tiled with a pale brown stone, heated perfectly, and featured a huge bathtub that I decided needed my attention. I filled it while I checked out the small kitchen, fitted with small appliances, a fridge, and a small stove. It wasn't like I'd be cooking my own food, but it would be nice for people that did.

I made some coffee, poured a cup with a two of the provided pots of creamer, then went into the bathroom to soak the morning away. It wasn't quite as sunny and balmy as being on the beach, but Mariah was my mother, and she was all I had. My father ran off with a woman that was nearly my age and disappeared. I'd even wondered if Mom had arranged to make my father 'disappear' a time or two but had dismissed it. My mother could be cunning, deceptive, and deceivingly helpless, but she wasn't a murderer.

After my bath, I dressed in a pair of denim shorts, a pair of black sneakers, and a green tank top. I wasn't exactly screaming wealthy, and I didn't have on designer anything, but I'd learned long ago that the one way to be targeted by pickpockets and other undesirables was to make a show of yourself. It's kept me safe so far in all my travels around the globe.

I heard that man's voice as I was leaving my room and realized he was in the room right next to mine. I had a quiet giggle over that and wondered who he was ranting at so loudly that I could hear it through the door. I kept going, and drove down to the village I'd passed on my way up the mountain earlier. Down in the valley, I saw a small grocery store, a general store that looked as if it had been built in the 1800s, and a lot of lovely little shops. I decided to look around in them, looking for a wedding gift for mom.

Okay, so I might be determined to prove my future stepfather was a fortune hunter, it didn't mean I'd make a complete ass out of myself. I found a lovely silver picture frame in the jewelry store and had it wrapped before I headed over to a cute little bakery next to it. I ordered a mocha and a ham sandwich on a croissant made at the shop, then sat down outside. It wasn't as warm as Cancun would be, but it was pleasant out, relaxing even with a crisp, clean breeze to keep my skin cool.

Which is exactly when someone dropped ice and what tasted like orange juice all over me.

"Fuck! I'm so sorry!" The man said, but I was still recovering from the shock of suddenly having an ice shower. Juice shower?

I wiped juice out of my eyes, my mouth still gaping open and looked up at the man when he tried to pat my face with two uselessly tiny napkins.

"What the hell?" I looked up at the man from hotel, who was also the main from the airport car rental parking lot. He had the same sunglasses on now and I knew it was him.

Andy, my now ex, had said I was too lame in bed, cold and frigid, he'd said of my skills. He was the first guy I'd slept with, I was still learning, and honestly, he wasn't the best teacher a girl could have. He'd never got me off, even when I'd shown him where all the good parts were to touch me. I was ice cold at the moment, but my lips twitched up in a smile as this man's worried face warmed me up.

He was handsome, with pale skin and pale, colorless eyes that came out of some kind of Nordic/Viking wet dream. Tall, muscular yet built on a slim line, the guy was, to put it plainly, drool worthy. And maybe just what I needed to distract me from my worries until Mom arrived.

"Oh, it's you," he said, stepping back, pushing up his sunglasses, his face a mask of interest mixed with horror at what had happened.

I'd almost emptied the napkin dispenser as he stared at me, trying my best to dry my hair at least. My shirt and shorts were soaked with juice and melting ice but at least he'd managed to dump the bowl of soup he'd had in his other hand on the ground and not me. I took the dispenser he'd grabbed for the table opposite me and started patting at my cleavage, which drew his attention there, of course.

I wasn't what you'd call well-endowed, but I had enough to definitely make a bra necessary. I looked up at him critically, thinking that I could do a whole lot worse and the way his eyes traveled down my cleavage to take in my slim waste and further to my toned thighs, gained from walking all over a huge campus for the last three years, before they came back up to meet my brown eyes, told me he was interested.

I was a good student, maybe not the savviest when it came to flirting and sex, but definitely willing to learn. I had at least twenty-four hours to fill and he looked like he could fill every single one. I smiled my best smile and asked him if he'd like to join me. I wasn't sure he'd agree, but hope springs eternal, right?