Zero Visibility (20 page)

“Ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath, annoyed with herself for being so excited. She tossed her new sweatshirt onto the bed and forced herself into the living room to the couch and the mess she’d left there last night. On the coffee table, she had spread out the papers Brad Klein had given her, papers that detailed the offer from Arnold Cross. She could pretend all day long that the whole document made sense to her, but honestly, the legalese made her brain hurt. Klein had highlighted the pertinent information…the money lines, mostly, but that was bookended by so much double talk and Latin that Emerson had gotten to a point where she’d just shake her head and reach for her glass of wine. Shockingly, the Zinfandel hadn’t magically cleared it all up for her.

The offer was fair. That was the bottom line. Glancing up now, she saw Jack Grafton out the window, walking by carrying a ladder and heading toward the giant maple that grew about halfway between the cottage and the lake. It had a very dead branch that was sure to come splitting down during the next high wind. The hand saw in Jack’s grip was a good bet he was going to take care of it. Emerson watched him, wondered what he would do if he no longer had his job here. He had to be in his seventies. His demeanor was completely off-putting. Who would hire him? Would he simply retire? Emerson realized she didn’t know a thing about him. Did he have a family to support or was he alone? Did he
want
to retire or would retirement be a curse to him?

That train of thought chugged her right into the station of What To Do About Mary. Her biggest obstacle in all of this. If Emerson sold The Lakeshore Inn, Mary would more than likely lose her job as well, because it was pretty clear that Cross would incorporate it with the larger building across the street and make it all one entity again. He most likely wouldn’t need Mary. And she was in the same boat as Jack. Not quite as up there in age, but certainly no youngster. Would she retire? Could she afford to? Did she wish to? Could Emerson live with being responsible for sending two long-time employees—and friends—of her mother’s directly to the unemployment line?

The pile of boxes Claire had filled, taped shut, and labeled with a Sharpie stared back at Emerson as she sat. They were neat and tidy, but she had no idea what she would do with them next. She had made no further progress, and every time she thought about it, she became more annoyed with herself. She couldn’t just stay here indefinitely, surrounded by boxes of her dead mother’s things. She had to do something, to take care of this mess so she could go home. She
had
to get home. There was an apartment to deal with. Rent to pay. A job to find. Jesus, she hadn’t even begun looking for a job, not even online. It was like Lake Henry was this tiny bubble that held her here and sucked away any desire to take care of her life on the west coast. The need to bust out of it was a big one.

She rubbed both hands over her face, up and down, up and down, like somebody waking from a long sleep. Then she moved to her short hair, rubbing her hands over her head, scratching her scalp in the hopes that would help clear her mind. Of course, it did not. Instead of hauling her ass up off the couch and getting to work packing a few boxes before she met up with Cassie, she stayed where she was, looking out at the lake, enjoying the sporadic sun glinting off its surface, unexpected relaxation sinking her further into the couch cushions. She could see Mr. Gruffton in her peripheral vision climbing his ladder. She lifted her socked feet, set them on top of the papers that littered the coffee table, and crossed them at the ankle. She slowly willed her body to relax, and she stayed that way for a long time.

***

Cassie thighs felt like she had battery acid flowing through her veins as she pedaled, but she would not be stopped. It wasn’t a race. She knew this. But she refused to take it slow, refused to admit out loud that, though she’d run the trail more than once, she hadn’t done so in ages, and she’d never actually biked it. No, she was not giving Emerson Rosberg any reason at all to think she couldn’t handle this trail.

To her credit, Emerson was keeping up with her, but her breathing came in ragged gasps; Cassie could hear them. At last glance, Cassie could see the sweat dripping down from Emerson’s temple in one sexy rivulet along her ear. Instead of reaching out to catch it with her finger—which is what she really wanted to do, and which would also have sent them both crashing to the ground in a heap of limbs and bike parts—she had pushed harder, putting more space between them, forcing Emerson to push harder to keep up.

There had been little to no talking from the time Emerson had picked her up until now. Cassie wasn’t sure what to say. No, that was so not true. That was a total lie. She knew exactly what she wanted to say. There were so many things she wanted to say.

Why didn’t you mention you had a girlfriend?

How long have you been together?

Why did she go back home so soon?

Do you live together?

And most importantly,
Why didn’t you mention you had a girlfriend?

Cassie shook her head and pushed harder.

Their last water break was almost an hour ago, and she was ready to stop. Thank god they were nearly to the parking area, as Cassie was reasonably sure her lungs were about to explode in her chest. She stood up on the bike once again—a position she was in more often than not on this trail—and pushed with all she had until the path broke free of trees and spit her out onto blessed asphalt. She squeezed her brake handle and came to a stop for the first time in what felt like hours, swung her leg over and off the bike, and flopped down onto the ground like her bones had disintegrated. Only a few seconds behind her, Emerson did the same thing, but did not stop at a sitting position, and instead lay completely out on the ground on her back, her lungs heaving.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. “You just tried to kill me.”

Cassie surprised herself by laughing, and pulled her water bottle out. “Didn’t do a very good job, did I?” She drank deeply, then handed the bottle to Emerson, who seemed in no hurry to sit up and grab her own.

“‘A’ for effort, though.” Emerson took the offered bottle and raised up onto her elbows to drink.

A few cars pulled in and out of the parking lot, which was adjacent to an old-looking building of dull gray brick and concrete that was built right into the side of the mountain. More people trickled out than entered, and Cassie glanced at her watch. It was after four o’clock and at this time of year, with the temperature dropping, the amount of tourists was smaller than a month ago and smaller than it would be a month from now. There was also the sign at the entrance, the one that gave the tourists a hint to what they would see. Or, as in today’s case, not see.

Visibility: Zero

Cassie’d had a feeling it would be this way when she woke up that morning to the fast-moving clouds, and she’d actually thought about rescheduling the bike ride to a more palatable weather day. But then she remembered that woman kissing Emerson on the mouth right in front of her and how foolish she’d felt for enjoying their time so much on Halloween, and she decided.
Screw it. If we don’t see anything, we don’t see anything. She doesn’t want to be here anyway.

Still, this was the best time of year to go up: when there were hardly any tourists. Cassie stood and pulled her bike upright. “What do you say? You up for going to the top?”

Emerson had an arm thrown over her eyes, which she now moved just enough to peek at Cassie. “There’s an elevator, right? I don’t have to expend much effort to get there, do I?”

Cassie couldn’t help but grin. “No, you wimp. No effort at all except walking from here to there.” She pointed at the door to the gray building, then held her hand out to Emerson. “Do you need me to carry you? Here, I thought you were this athlete in tip-top shape.” She tsked and shook her head, which got exactly the reaction she’d hoped for.

Emerson playfully slapped her hand away. “I can manage, thank you.” It took some effort, but she stood and picked up her bike, then followed Cassie across the road to the bike rack to lock the bikes up.

They passed a family of four, as well as an Asian couple and a group of college-age kids leaving as they made their way inside and to the elevator where a young redheaded man stood sentry.

“Hey, Kevin,” Cassie said with a grin. “Busy today?”

“Hi, Cassie. No, not really.” He pointed to a second sign just like the one outside the entrance. “You’re not going to see much up there.”

Cassie waved a hand. “That’s okay. I promised my friend here we’d go to the top of the mountain and that’s what we’re doing. Emerson Rosberg, this is Kevin Stiles.”

Kevin’s eyes widened slightly as he held out his hand to Emerson. “Wow. It’s great to meet you, Ms. Rosberg.”

“Please. Emerson.” Emerson shook his hand.

“Kevin works one of the slopes as well on ski patrol,” Cassie informed her. “He’s a great skier.”

Emerson gave him a nod as he stepped back and waved them into the elevator. “Enjoy. I think you two will be the only ones up there. Watch your step.”

The doors closed them into the small car and they were silent for several moments. Emerson swallowed, then said quietly, “I’m kind of amazed by the number of people who still recognize me.”

Cassie looked at her for a long beat before saying, “Emerson. You were famous. You’re a legend here. Lake Henry is proud to call you its own. The people here love and respect you. Don’t you see that?”

With a shrug, Emerson wet her lips, but said nothing more.

The doors slid open and the two stepped out of the sheltered area onto the rock surface of the top of the mountain. The clouds were thick and there wasn’t much to see aside from the trees that covered the sides of that mountain and the steps down that had a rope “fence” along them. Emerson pointed at them.

“Oh,” Cassie replied as she carefully stepped along the rocks. “Yeah. People can walk down the steps if they don’t want to take the elevator.”

Even though they couldn’t see much, there was something peaceful about having the top of the mountain to themselves, even for a few minutes.

Cassie inhaled deeply, blew it out, and asked, “Want to sit down?” She pointed to a flat rock that jutted out a ways. “That’s my favorite spot.”

“Perfect. Show me.”

Cassie was cautious in her steps, and Emerson followed behind her, watching her feet. Once out to the farthest part of the rock, Cassie lowered herself to the ground and held out a hand for Emerson, who took it for balance, then sat next to her, close enough so their legs brushed against each other. The clouds swirled around them.

“This is like being in the middle of cotton candy,” Emerson said, amusement tinging her voice.

“Except you can’t actually eat it. Which sucks.”

“Exactly. Bummer.”

“I loved that stuff when I was a kid,” Cassie said with a grin. “I still love it, but it kills my teeth.”

“Mine, too. It’s a cruel trick age plays on us.”

“One of the many.”

They sat in companionable silence for a long moment, just breathing. Just being. The clouds floated by, the air soundless. It was Cassie who broke the silence and she knew she was going to go there only a split second before she did.

“How come you never mentioned your girlfriend?”

There. It was out. Despite the fact that she wished she’d thought about it before opening her mouth, she felt instantly lighter, like she’d finally pushed the weight off her shoulders.

Emerson turned those ice-blue eyes on her and held her gaze. Then she wet her lips again and said simply, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Cassie squinted at her. “Excuse me? Then who was the gorgeous woman who kissed you on the lips the other night and might as well have draped herself all over you?”

Emerson continued to look at her, and one corner of her mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. She raised an eyebrow and said, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound almost jealous.”

Cassie’s eyes sparked. “I am
not
jealous. I was just curious. Why in the world would I be jealous? I have no reason to be jealous.”

Emerson shook her head. “No, you don’t. Claire is not my girlfriend. We’ve been dating for a while, but that’s all.” She looked down at her hands and then back out into the misty clouds. “Besides, it’s over now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassie said, knowing she really wasn’t.

“No reason to be.”

“Okay.” They were quiet, and there was no sound except the gentle wind and the occasional bird. It was a beautifully calm, serene moment. The air was cool, chilly even, but warmth radiated from the place where their bodies touched. Warmth that was rapidly turning to heat. Eventually, Cassie turned to Emerson, cleared her throat, and said softly, “So. No girlfriend.”

Emerson turned to her, met her eyes and replied, just as quietly, “No. No girlfriend.”

It was just a couple of inches between them, and Cassie needed only to lean slightly to cover them, which she did before she could second-guess herself. Her lips pressed into Emerson’s, tentatively. She retreated slightly, not quite sure. But Emerson was sure, and she lifted her hand to the side of Cassie’s head, gripped her, and drew her in closer. Their mouths melded, soft lips against soft lips, gently exploring, keeping an uncertain pace at first. Cassie pulled back just a little, looked into Emerson’s eyes. Seeing no caution, no trepidation, nothing but the haze of desire, she dove back in, this time more firmly, reveling in the slight saltiness of Emerson’s skin. She grabbed the strings hanging off Emerson’s hood and pulled her closer. They kissed deeply, thoroughly, lips parting, tongues coming into play. When Cassie felt Emerson’s hands in her hair, she let a groan slip out, something Emerson must have liked because she pushed into Cassie more, wrapped an arm around Cassie’s waist and pulled her even closer.

God, had anything ever felt this good?

The question zipped through Cassie’s mind as she felt warmth on her face, a gentle heat that confused her and caused her to withdraw slowly and open her eyes. Emerson followed suit. What they saw made them both stare.