On Thin Icing (8 page)

“I think I can squeeze them in the top.” Sterling rearranged the wine glasses.

Carlos had successfully tamped down the fire. The blackened wood burned low, a sign that the evening was officially winding down.

The microwave beeped.

“I believe this is for you.” Carlos removed my mug, dumped the hot water in the sink, and poured exactly the right amount of cream into the bottom of the cup.

“Thanks.” I poured the dark coffee over the cream. It stirred together into a delicious walnut color. I indulged in a taste before I sent Sterling to the dining room with the coffee service.

The rest of cleanup was a breeze. Sterling was an efficient worker. He had the counters wiped down and the pots scrubbed before the guests had finished dessert. Lance popped into the kitchen on his way out.

“As always, everything was absolutely divine, darling.” He blew air kisses in my direction. Then he turned and gave a little bow to Carlos. “And you, dear boy, are the most exciting thing to happen around these parts in years. We will have to have a little tête-à-tête in the morning. Until then, keep icing that bruise and sleep tight!”

Sterling finished clearing the dessert plates, and started the dishes. I served the three of us leftovers. We gathered around the island and devoured a late-night dinner. That’s the way it goes in a professional kitchen, chefs eat last. I practically inhaled my food. I couldn’t believe how famished I was. Probably stress, Jules, I told myself.

Carlos ate at a more leisurely pace, regaling Sterling with stories of our escapades on the ship. Like the night that Carlos had me sneak in the kitchen with him and fill two buckets with water. He took all of the paring knifes and dropped them in the buckets. Then he hid them in the freezer. The next morning, staff arrived for line prep to find their knives frozen solid. Carlos was notorious for playing pranks in the kitchen. He said it helped lighten the mood.

“Jules, I’ve never seen this side of you.” Sterling grinned as he stacked our empty plates and walked them to the sink.

“Julieta has a devilish side,” Carlos said.

“I do not,” I protested, and tossed him a fresh bag of frozen peas. “You are the troublemaker.”

“Is there anything else you need me to do, Jules?” Sterling asked as he loaded our dinner plates in the dishwasher. “I want to get out of here before the pranks begin.”

I surveyed the kitchen. Everything had been put away. “It looks great. You’ve been amazing. Go get some sleep. I’m going to sketch out the plan for tomorrow.”

He removed his apron and hung it on a hook near the sink. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I’ve got it from here. Thanks for all your hard work. I could not have done it without you.”

“Not a problem. I had fun.” Sterling smiled at both of us and pulled his hoodie over his head. “See you bright and early.”

I tried to busy myself with tomorrow’s schedule after Sterling left. It was hard to concentrate. Carlos poured two glasses of wine and pulled a chair on the opposite side of the island from me. He rested his hands on his chin. “You are so lovely when you’re thinking, Julieta.”

“Stop.” I shook my head, and focused my gaze at the notebook in front of me, acutely aware that Carlos was staring at me. “You can’t just waltz back in my life and pretend that nothing happened.”

“
Sí,
I know, and now we are alone. Can we talk?” There was longing in his voice.

I drew in a breath and rested the pencil on the notebook. “Where do we even start?” I met his eyes.

“Let’s take our wine and have a seat by the fire.” He nodded toward the dining room.

“There’s so much I need to do for tomorrow.” I protested.

“That can wait. We cannot.” Carlos held my gaze. The intensity in his eyes made my heart thump again.

“I don’t know.” I motioned to the notebook. “I still need to map out tomorrow’s plan.” I could hear the timidity in my voice. There was nothing I wanted more than to curl up in front of the fire and have Carlos wrap his arms around me.

Carlos knew he’d won. He slid from the stool and picked up his wine glass. I closed the notebook and followed him.

Keep it together, Jules.

Chapter Eight

The lights in the dining room had been turned off. We only had the glow of the embers burning low in the fireplace in the far corner of the room to guide us.

I could feel my breath coming fast and unsteady. I’d waited so long for this moment. I was filled with equal parts of excitement and dread. Whatever Carlos had to say would affect my future for better or worse. That’s what you said when you got married, Jules, for better or for worse.

A shiver ran down my spine. I wasn’t sure if it was because the dining room had cooled significantly with the falling snow outside or it if was my nerves.

Carlos started as he got closer to the fireplace. “Sorry. I did not know that someone was here.”

Someone was here? So much for a quiet conversation.

Mercury jumped to her feet from the couch. “Oh, my goodness, I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?” Her light gray hair spilled from a loose ponytail.

Carlos shrugged. He looked at me.

“No idea.” I don’t wear a watch. I don’t wear any jewelry when I’m baking. It gets in the way.

Mercury glanced at her wrist. “It’s after eleven. How did that happen? How long have I been asleep?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “We finished cleaning up.”

She rubbed her eyes. “I can’t believe I slept through that. I don’t know what came over me. Well, actually I do—Tony.” She grabbed a fire poker and hit the coals. “You must be exhausted,” she continued without noticing our full wine glasses. “I’m so sorry about this. About everything. I’ve never seen Tony that bad.”

“That was quite the scene,” I said.

“He better be sleeping it off tonight, because tomorrow he and I are going to have words. He’s not going to ruin everything that we’ve worked for up here. Our staff are the first impression guests have of the resort.” She looked at Carlos and winced. “How’s your face?”

“It will be fine,” he said, patting the growing bruise on his cheek.

“I’m so sorry.” She placed the poker in its holder. “And you need your cabin keys, don’t you? Oh my goodness. I’ll grab them from the desk.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I made eye contact with Carlos. “Let me make sure everything’s off in the kitchen, and we’ll meet you up front.” I thought about Mercury’s words. Staff were a reflection of the lodge. I was so thankful to have the staff we did at Torte, but I couldn’t help but wonder why Mercury had kept Tony on.

Carlos looked defeated as we returned to the kitchen. He took a long sip of wine and placed his glass in the sink. I dumped mine. I needed a clear head to survive this weekend anyway.

“All set,” I said, returning to Mercury.

Mercury handed a large gold key to me. “You’re in cabin number five.” She pointed behind her. “Follow the path up the hill and it’s the first cabin on your left.”

“Got it.” I tucked the key in my pocket.

“You’ll need a flashlight to see.” Mercury reached under the desk and handed me a small flashlight. “It’s really coming down out there, so be sure to stay on the path.” She paused and stared at Carlos. “What about you? What cabin are you in?”

Carlos placed his arm around my shoulder. “I’ll be staying with my wife.”

“Wife?” Mercury raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know you two were married.”

“We’re not, exactly,” I said at the same moment that Carlos said, “Yes, we are.”

Mercury looked confused, but said, “Stay on the path,” as we left.

She wasn’t kidding about the snow. It fell in giant clumps as if the sky were launching handfuls of snowballs at us. What path was Mercury talking about? At least six inches of snow covered the ground. I couldn’t believe how much had fallen since Sterling and I arrived.

Carlos shined the flashlight in front of us. “I think we go that way.”

We tromped to the parking lot to grab our bags. Carlos hoisted both of them over his shoulder and handed the flashlight to me. Darkness had descended over the resort. The flashlight cast eerie shadows on the trees, as I beamed it toward the cabins. Heavy, wet snow fell at a furious pace.

I moved as fast I could through the gusting wind. It shrieked through the top of the evergreen trees, rattling their branches and echoing into the dark night. Cold air burned my lungs as we struggled up the small hill toward the cabins.

“It is up ahead!” Carlos shouted, and pointed toward one of the cabins tucked into the hillside.

We were just a few feet away when the sound of a loud bang stopped us in our tracks.

“What was that?” I glanced from my left to my right.

Carlos stopped and waited. “The wind?”

“It’s crazy out here.”

“Keep moving.” Carlos nudged me forward.

We made it to the cabin. I climbed up a small set of steps that led to an enclosed porch. The screen door was unlocked. I opened it and stepped inside. Carlos followed. We kicked off our boots.

“Can you shine the light right here?” I pointed to the sliding glass door.

Carlos held the light for me to see as I unlocked the door.

I flipped on the lights and stepped inside. My breath evaporated into fog. The heat was obviously off. I found the thermostat and switched it to high.

The cabin was the textbook definition of cozy and snug. It had wood floors, knotty-pine walls, and red and white gingham curtains (just like the ones in the lodge) tied with twine on the windows. The front room had a woodstove, rocking chair, and futon couch that look liked it doubled as a bed. That was good. Carlos could sleep there tonight.

A small kitchen was attached to the living room. Above us there was a loft with two-foot-high ceilings and a wooden railing. I dropped my bag by the front door, and walked to the back of the cabin. There were cupboards with board games, a collection of old movies and books, and popcorn. A small bathroom with a standalone shower and sink and a bedroom took up the space in the back of the cabin.

“This is so romantic, no?” Carlos lit a candle on the kitchen counter.

“It’s adorable,” I agreed. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that Carlos was actually here.

“You want a glass of wine, and we will curl up by the fire and continue?” Carlos stuffed wood and kindling in the woodstove.

“I didn’t bring any wine.”

“This is no problem. I will go get some. You stay here.” He lit the fire and zipped his coat.

“But it’s terrible out there.”

“It’s nothing. I will be back very soon.” He started to open the sliding door. “Do you have the key?”

“Yeah.” I reached into my pocket and tossed him the keys to the lodge and marina. “Are you sure you really want to go back out there?”

“Of course. For you, Julieta, I would do this and much, much more.”

“You don’t need to do this for me. I don’t need a glass of wine. I’m fine.” On the ship when Carlos spoke to me like that I remember feeling almost dizzy with love. Now on land, his words felt different.

Carlos shook his head. “No, no. This is good. I will be back. You stay warm by the fire.” He slid the door open and stepped onto the porch before I could protest more.

Did I look like I needed a drink? Come to think of it, how did I look? The afternoon and evening had been such a whirlwind of activity and cooking that I hadn’t had a chance to slow down. Carlos heading out on a late-night wine run meant that I could hop in the shower. There’s nothing better than a cleansing shower after a long day in the kitchen. Apron or no apron, my skin always ends up with a layer of flour. It’s impossible to avoid.

I turned the shower on its hottest setting and let the small bathroom fill with steam as I unpacked a pair of black fleece sweats, wool socks, and a soft ivory-colored sweater. I might as well be comfortable if Carlos and I were going to share a bottle of wine. The bathroom was stocked with travel-sized oatmeal soaps, shampoo, and conditioner as well as mouthwash, toothpaste, and razors. It reminded me of our tiny cabin on the ship.

Life on the sea was like living in a magical storybook. Things like toothpaste and bars of soap were delivered to our cabin on a weekly basis. We didn’t cook for ourselves, except when Carlos would close the kitchen in the evening and whip up something special for the staff. We were responsible for thousands of meals, but not much else. It was an extension of youth—drinking wine at two o’clock in the morning, dancing under the stars, meeting new people from every corner of the globe. It wasn’t real life. Was that the root of the problem between Carlos and me? We never had to grow up?

I sighed and stepped into the steamy shower. As the water ran over my skin I lathered oatmeal shampoo into my hair. It smelled like the kitchen. The heat felt rejuvenating. I became lost in my thoughts as the water swirled down the drain.

After a while, my skin was two shades pinker. Probably time to get out. I dried off and applied a thick layer of lotion. My skin practically glowed. I pulled on my comfy clothes and ran a blow-dryer on my hair. It takes forever to get my hair dry. One of the major disadvantages to having long, thick locks. I just wanted it dry enough to tie up in a ponytail.

Then I put on a little lip gloss. It was silly, but I couldn’t help myself.

I clicked on the overhead fan and returned to the living room. The cheery room had warmed up nicely. I plopped onto the couch and covered my legs with a Pendleton wool blanket. The blanket matched the country vibe in the cabin. It was a deep red with patchwork Native American geometric designs woven in.

Where was Carlos? What was taking him so long?

A digital clock on the white stove in the kitchen read twelve-ten. How long had I been in the shower? Twenty minutes, maybe? He should be back by now. It was only a five-minute walk to the lodge. I hoped he hadn’t gotten lost in the snow.

The window behind the couch faced the lodge. I sat up and peered out it. Nothing but a black snowy sky was visible. Maybe Carlos got distracted in the kitchen. He was used to working until the early morning hours on the ship. He probably decided to make a midnight snack.