Secrets of a Chalet Girl (5 page)

“Exactly! You’ve got some catching up to do. What are you waiting for?”

Zac frowned at that. Sure, they’d always been competitive but settling down and starting a family was hardly something you could compete over. After all, his own parents had married young. Much good it had done them.

“You’ll end up a lonely old bachelor, mate.” Nick added.

“Thanks for that,” Zac replied dryly, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “Enough about me. Tell me about that godson of mine…”

When Flora woke it took her a while to work out where she was. She’d expected to wake up in a bunk-bed but instead woke cradled by the most comfortable mattress she’d ever lain on, blinking up at a high vaulted ceiling. Light streamed through the windows stretching up to the apex of the roof. She could see the snow capped Alps from where she lay, vividly contrasted by the brightest of blue skies.

She had so much more space than back in the dorm room. She could stretch out her limbs any way she wanted in the super king bed. It was quite a change.

As was the super-fit guy sitting up in bed by her side. He was working on his laptop looking as fresh as the pristine snow that’d fallen during the night.

“Morning.” He smiled. “Sleep well?”

“Very well thanks,” she replied, wondering how she was going to manage the naked dash to the bathroom. Where in the heck were her clothes?

“I guess it must be nice not having to get up early to make loads of breakfasts for Scott’s paying guests?” He asked. “I have coffee and croissants if you’re hungry.”

“Sounds good.” She smiled awkwardly, wondering how he could be so unfazed by this.

Lots of practice Flora. Get used to it. This is what it’s like being back in the dating world – coping with the morning after…

As embarrassing as being naked under the duvet was she was more worried about last night. Had her inexperience been really obvious? Had she made a twat of herself?

It wasn’t the kind of subject you could casually bring up over coffee and croissants though, was it?

“I’ve got a spare dressing gown in the en suite if you like? I’ll go and get breakfast and you can use the bathroom.”

With relief she streaked to the bathroom once he’d left the room, touched he’d understood her embarrassment. Once the door was locked she let out a sigh of relief. Then she looked in the mirror and relief turned to horror as she noticed the smudged make-up beneath her eyes.

She did not look good.

What am I supposed to do now?

Didn’t people vanish after one-night stands? Was this even a one-night stand?

Help!

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut feeling like a small goldfish plunged into a very large ocean. Perhaps she should eat breakfast but then get quickly out before she outstayed her welcome? Was that the polite thing to do?

Sex with Zac had been incredible. Nerve endings she hadn’t even known she possessed tingled at the memory of last night.

I’ve exorcised Tom’s ghost.

Mostly.

She hoped Zac wouldn’t talk about Scott and Holly’s wedding too much. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know today should’ve been her wedding day and it was hardly a first date topic of conversation. Pain cramped in her stomach and she ignored it. Stress cramps had become a frequent feature of the past six months.

Flora washed her face quickly and put the white waffle robe on. At least a light tan from the winter sun meant her skin didn’t look too terrible without make-up. She needed to track her handbag down so she could brush her hair though. She ran her fingers through the tangles, trying to tame her blonde locks into some semblance of style.

I did the right thing by walking out. I had no choice.

She tried to stifle the hurt that accompanied the thought. Tom’s family hated her guts and she felt the loss of them every day. They’d been one of the reasons she’d put up with Tom for as long as she had. They were practically her surrogate family given that her own parents had upped and moved to Thailand as soon as she turned eighteen, leaving her rootless and alone.

A fresh wave of fear washed over her as she padded barefoot out of the en suite, submerging her in fear of the future and fear of having to be one hundred per cent responsible for herself with no back up plan and no parents to run home to if it all went wrong.

Get over yourself and grow up Flora! Other people cope.

This option was a hell of a lot better than marrying a man who’d been making her miserable. Did she really want to be still living in a minefield, not knowing which step might trigger an explosion? She liked being with Tash, Sophie and Amelia – they reminded her how much she missed the old friends Tom had gradually squeezed out of their life together. How could she have let that happen? It hadn’t seemed to matter too much when she was so close to his sister Cathy.

That would be the same Cathy who wasn’t even speaking to her now.

Flora climbed back into the bed. It was a truly gorgeous bed, so much nicer than her creaking bunk-bed back at Chalet Repos.

Zac came into the room, carrying a tray with fresh croissants and a cafetière of coffee. She didn’t like to say she was strictly a tea girl.

I’m certainly never being a ‘cocktail girl’ again…

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment when she thought about what they’d done last night. Those Mojitos had a lot to answer for.

You did it because you wanted to, the drinks didn’t make you do it.

She glanced at the muscles still visible beneath Zac’s T-shirt. He was gorgeous and seemed lovely. And the connection between them felt pretty…incredible.

Incredibly scary. I don’t think I’m ready for this.

“I look a right state.” Flora grimaced and pulled the duvet up to her chin. “I’m not sure where I left my bag last night.”

“You look lovely, trust me.” Zac smiled, putting the tray down on the bedside table. “I put your bag in here with your clothes.”

He opened a small cupboard underneath and brought out her evening bag, scrutinising the beadwork closely. “This is really good. I’m guessing you made this, right?”

“Yes,” she said, feeling a little shy. “It’s one of mine.”

“You should definitely do something with this. You’re wasted in book-keeping and you can’t be a seasonaire forever you know?”

I do know!

Her hand tightened around the croissant she was holding. “Well, yes, obviously I know that.”

Emotion bubbled up inside her, she couldn’t identify it but it felt dangerous, as though if she didn’t control it something catastrophic might happen.

“I did some research for you last night.” Zac didn’t seem to be picking up her mood. He produced a sheaf of papers.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” She looked incredulously at the paperwork. Instinctively she wanted to withdraw, to pull back into her shell and hide from the world. She didn’t want to connect, to share, to expose herself for scrutiny. Her dreams were just that – hers.

And she’d had enough of being told what to do for a lifetime.

“I don’t sleep much, only four or five hours a night and when I’m up I like to work, to do something productive, you know?” Zac enthused, spreading the papers out on the bed.

“Right.” Flora absently shredded her croissant, her appetite fading. All of a sudden she wanted to be on her own. “It’s very kind of you but I don’t need your…help.”

The bubbling, churning emotion surged inside her. The rapidly rising tide of emotion made her jittery, scared she wouldn’t be able to control it. The smile on her face was frozen into place, her cheeks aching. If she left now would that be rude?

Today of all days she needed to be alone. She was an emotional liability - guilt, fear, anger and loss cannoning around inside her, looking for an external target to strike out at. She couldn’t unleash the tsunami on Zac, it wouldn’t be fair of her.

“I don’t mind helping, it’s no trouble.” Zac didn’t seem to be getting the hint, he was too taken up with whatever plan he’d formulated. “I think you need to start small and sell through eBay and etsy.com. Maybe set up an online shop once you’ve got enough stock. Here are some guides explaining everything you need to know and the taxation implications depending on which country you decide to base yourself in.”

Flora slipped out of bed. “That’s great Zac, thanks. Look I’m really sorry but I’m afraid I’ve got to go. I’ve just remembered I promised to do something for Holly.”

“I thought you had some time off?”

“It’s, er wedding related stuff,” Flora bluffed. “I’ll go and get changed and you know…go…”

Really? That’s the best you can come up with Flora? Brain, please engage my tongue because you’re both doing a crap job!

But the panic was rising inside her.

“Do you want to hang out later? I could teach you to snowboard?”

Flora shuddered inwardly. Accept help in another field in which she was inexperienced and he knew everything? No thanks. Absolutely no way.

If she saw Zac again it had to be on an equal footing. This was freaking her out too much.

“Um, maybe,” she replied. “I’ll get my phone and we can…trade numbers?”

Zac caught her eye and in a sudden flash she remembered what it had been like having him inside her. She looked away, down at the floor and fled to the en suite to get dressed as quickly as possible.

Once dressed again, finally managing the zip on her dress without asking Zac for help, she bumped into him in the hallway.

“Hey, you forgot these.” He handed her the papers, now fastened together with treasury tags.

“Oh, thanks,” Flora flushed again, feeling the heat creeping up her neck, her body reacting to their close proximity. How did you say goodbye in these situations? A peck on the cheek? An awkward ‘bye then?’

Zac solved the question for her by leaning in to kiss her. Desire responded inside her but she was determined to ignore it this time. She had to be alone. She needed time to think. This was how Tom had worked, confusing her with kisses and kindnesses until she almost doubted her recollections of his other behaviour.

Zac isn’t Tom.

She knew that was true, but still… making her feelings subject to logic and reason wasn’t something she’d mastered yet.

“I need to go.” She headed to the front door, ignoring the spasm of longing surging deep inside her.

“Later?” He quirked an eyebrow, intense blue eyes searching her face as though hoping to read subtitles explaining what was happening between them.

“Perhaps.” She smiled and half raised her right arm in an awkward wave. “I’ll, er, text you.”

“Are you going to be alright walking back?” He eyed her knee-high boots dubiously.

“I’ll be fine, it looks like they’ve cleared the pavements of ice.” She smiled and edged away, trying not to meet his eye. “Bye then.”

It was a relief to finally stop smiling once she was out of his sight. When she’d been putting Zac’s number into her phone she’d noticed a new email alert from Cathy and wanted some privacy to read it. Tom’s sister hadn’t contacted her in months.

Maybe it’s a peace offering at last?

She was glad her coat covered up what was obviously an evening dress. Other seasonaires might call this the ‘walk of pride,’ but to Flora it felt like a walk of shame.

Today was supposed to be my wedding day. I would’ve been wearing my wedding dress…

But how could she have married Tom? She stepped carefully over a pile of snow not yet cleared and made herself think about Zac instead.

He had only been trying to help.

You were rude.

But whatever happened next in her life had to be her decision, her plan, her actions…

One hundred per cent independence might be lonely but it was the only way to go. She had to stick to it, not be swayed by the first man to show an interest in her. A non-sexual interest as well as fancying her, that was. Plenty of men had tried to induce her to join in with the bed hopping, or some cringey ‘fondle-her-in-a-gondola.’ She hated that phrase and she’d also refused invitations to the ‘nearly naked’ Sunday evening bar sessions - just a blatant excuse for all the cocky exhibitionists in Verbier to take their clothes off.

At least she only stripped in private!

Neither did she sneak over the fence to get into the Hotel Royale’s Jacuzzi -the place to be in the evening if you fancied getting it on with other like-minded seasonaires.

Somehow she didn’t think last night had changed all that for her. She was never going to be
that
girl. Intimacy was hard enough without the risk that among all those strangers she might accidentally pick someone like Tom.

Flora rubbed her hands together to keep them warm. The sky was blue but the sun hadn’t reached this part of town yet. It would be lovely up on the slopes today, maybe she should hit the pistes instead of moping. It would take her mind off everything. Since when had feeling sorry for yourself ever solved anything?

She wished she hadn’t let her herself think about Tom last night. Thinking about
that night
, the most awful of her entire life, was like a car crash - you wanted to look away but found yourself staring over the crash barriers nonetheless. She could understand the reasons why Tom had acted as he did but she’d never be able to excuse him. His father’s heart attack and convalescence had put pressure on Tom, leaving him to run the business.

She’d sympathised until he’d increasingly taken his frustrations out on her. The first time he’d crossed the line he’d lost his temper and shoved her against a wall during a row. He’d convinced her afterwards it was an accident. She’d believed him because she wanted to.

She’d been stupid.

For months she’d been thinking about leaving but every time she came close he seemed to sense it and did something so lovely and caring she began to seriously doubt her own judgement. It’d seemed selfish to leave him when he was under so much pressure.

And his family, well she hadn’t wanted to leave them either. She’d known cancelling the wedding would break his mother’s heart at a time when she was worried sick about her husband. Leaving felt cruel and selfish.