A Man for the Holiday

Chapter Two

Shawn

I took a deep breath, inhaling the sharp scent of pine and snow as I strapped on my ski boots. Snowridge, with its frosty peaks and untouched trails, had quickly become my favorite place on earth.

The resort project was coming along slowly but steadily, and though there was still so much to do, I'm sure everything will be ready before Christmas.

Skiing was one of my favorite activities. It was something my mom and I used to do together every winter - a simple thrill that reminded me of her laughter, her unbridled joy.

That’s why I came back and started this resort. It was her dream. We talked about it for so long before the tragedy that left her depressed and suicidal. It was a trying time for me and my sister. We lost our mom that day, though it took another year before she finally gave up the ghost.

With a push, I started down the slope, letting the crisp wind whip past my face. Skiing was the one thing that cleared my head, no matter how many deadlines, meetings, or investors needed attention. The world around me faded, leaving just the sound of skis slicing through snow.

Halfway down the trail, I swerved sharply to avoid a group of kids when, out of nowhere, I saw a flash of red and then—bam!—I collided with someone. The impact was strong enough to make me lose my balance, and I fell backward, landing in the snow with a hard thud.

“Ouch,” I muttered, more out of surprise than pain.

I looked up to see a woman, wrapped in a thick red scarf and clearly as surprised as I was, her brown hair falling messily over her face. At first I wanted to lash out at her, confident that she had deliberately hit me.

But then, I looked at her face and realised that I’ve never seen her before. She has emerald green eyes that sparkled in this moonlight, brown hair that had fallen all round her shoulders that she is currently struggling to arrange. She glared at me and cleaned off the snow from her jeans pants and blue sweaters.

She patted her legs and I noticed the boots she was wearing which were perfect for skiing. My gaze moved back up on her pants and I saw how the jeans accentuated her curves. She is definitely new here and not among the women who have been trying everything to get my attention.

I felt her searing gaze and pulled my eyes away from her body to meet her sparkling green eyes. She seems mad at me and I feel bad to have offended this nice looking woman. I immediately scrambled to my feet and extended a hand, guilt surging through me.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you,” I said quickly. “Are you all right?”

She brushed more snow off her coat, and then stared at my hand like it was something unpleasant. Without a word, she ignored my offer and got up on her own.

“No thanks to you,” she muttered, her eyes sharp and cold. “Maybe watch where you’re going next time?”

Her tone caught me off guard, and I blinked. Most people, even if upset, would accept an apology. But this woman was different, she wasn’t just irritated; she was outright furious.

“I… I really am sorry,” I repeated, trying to keep my voice calm. “I didn’t mean to run into you.”

“Right,” she scoffed, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. “Just because you think you can take over the whole trail doesn’t mean everyone here has to watch out for you.”

“Take over the trail?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t see you coming either.”

She shot me a withering look, her eyes blazing with a mixture of irritation and something else, maybe disdain?

I took a step closer, clearly not deterred. “I really am sorry about that. Sometimes, I get a little carried away skiing.”

“Right,” she replied coldly, turning away. But I was persistent, keeping up with her as she started down the slope again.

“Actually, I’ve never seen you around here before. New to Snowridge?” I asked, in what I hoped was a friendly tone.

She finally turned to look at me, eyes narrowed. “Does it actually work?”

“What?”

“Your pick up lines. Does it work on the girls here?”

My mouth dropped in utter shock and I couldn’t form the words needed. Yet she continued.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re interested in where I’m from,” she said bluntly. “I get it, run into a woman on the slopes, make an apology sound like small talk. Classic move.”

I was genuinely taken aback. I opened my mouth as if to tell her it's not what she thinks, but she won’t give me the chance.

“I’m really not interested, okay?” she continued. “I didn’t come here to find a ski buddy, and I definitely didn’t come here for… this.” she gestured to the awkward proximity I was trying to maintain.

I don’t believe this. This is so funny, I had to laugh.

“Whoa, hold on. I wasn’t trying to pull any moves,” I said, putting up my hands in a placating gesture. “I was actually just trying to apologize. Believe it or not, sometimes people do mean it.”

“Right,” she muttered, not buying it for a second. She turned away as if the conversation was over. “I’ve got things to do.”

She was already walking away, leaving me standing there, speechless. Who was she to brush me off like that? Most people in Snowridge either greeted me with warm smiles or polite nods.

“Hey,” I called out, feeling an odd urge to engage her further. “I didn’t catch your name.”

She didn’t even turn before saying, “I didn’t throw it.”

And with that, she continued down the slope, leaving me there, watching her disappear among the snow-dusted trees. I stood there for a moment, stunned, still processing what had just happened.

Who does she think she is to brush me off in such a rude manner? And why couldn’t I shake the feeling that she was someone I’d see again? Someone I would like to see again?

My phone rang at that moment, interrupting my chain of thoughts. It was my assistant.

“What is it?” I asked the receiver.