A Little Too Late (Madigan Mountain #1)(10)

“Sutton!” her mother scolds. “That’s bragging.”

“Not if it’s true,” the little girl argues.

“Can you ski in formation in the dark and hold the torch high enough for everyone to see?” I ask her.

“Of course. It’s just the lower bowl. I could do it with my eyes closed.”

When I glance at Callie, she looks resigned. “If you can get someone to partner with you, then you can do it. Callie might be too busy running the show to ski with you.”

“You can come with me,” Raven volunteers. “No problem.”

“Yay!” Sutton cheers. “Thank you!”

Raven winks a blue eye at the little girl just as the front door flies open. Halley, our friend who tends bar at the hotel, enters the apartment looking flushed and beautiful. “You will not believe what I just heard,” she says, whipping a beanie from her curls. “We’re kicking off this season with some excellent mountain gossip.”

“Ooh, tell us,” Callie demands. “My body is ready.”

My stomach drops. Mountain gossip is like small-town gossip, but worse. It travels faster than an avalanche, and no one is exempt.

Also, I think I can guess what this is about.

“Reed Madigan showed up today!” Halley says, tossing her coat at a hook and missing. “Rumor has it that he looks fiiiiiine.”

There is a collective gasp, and I make myself very busy plating up a brownie for Sutton.

“He just showed up out of the blue?” Callie asks. “After all this time?”

“That’s right!” Halley says gleefully. “Hardy—the new bellhop? He didn’t recognize him. Says Reed gave him an evil look. So now Hardy’s hoping he won’t be fired. Especially with all these rumors swirling about the mountain being sold to some investors. Maybe Reed is one of them!”

“Ohh,” Raven gasps. “You know, I heard he’s some kind of investor.”

Nope. Reed is not the buyer, and bite your tongue. As much as I’d like to offer up that tidbit of information, I don’t. The deal details are in the vault. Mark Madigan trusts me with all kinds of secrets, and I’d never betray the boss.

“Was his father expecting him?” Raven asks. “Wait—Ava!” She turns to me. “You must have met the Prodigal Son. Is he hot?”

My face heats as all four women turn to stare at me, including the nine-year-old one. “Well, yes. He’s, uh, very attractive. If you like the obnoxious corporate type.”

Halley’s sharp eyes give me a once-over. “Hang on. Are you wearing makeup?”

I attempt a casual shrug. “Maybe. So?” I offer the brownie to Sutton.

She pounces on it. “You do look extra pretty tonight. Do you usually wear gold eyeshadow?”

“Sometimes,” I mutter as my face gets even hotter.

“Ava,” Callie says in her best this-is-your-mother-speaking voice. “Why do you look guilty? What aren’t you telling us about the elusive Reed Madigan?”

I shrug helplessly. “You know I can’t dish out corporate office secrets.” And then I wince, because I’m a terrible liar and always have been.

“Corporate secrets?” Callie asks, adding strawberry syrup to the blender. “Nobody here is asking for private documents, Ava. So just spill.”

“We all want to know why you’re dressed to kill, and why you look guilty as h—” Raven glances toward the child in the room, who’s speed-eating a brownie and listening to the grownups’ conversation with every fiber of her being. “—heck,” Raven finishes. “Spit it out already.”

“It’s not, uh, an appropriate topic of conversation,” I say, and then instantly realize my mistake when Callie takes the empty plate from her daughter’s hands and points toward the staircase.

“Teeth. PJs. Now.”

“You always send me to bed at the worst times,” Sutton grumbles. But she’s a good girl, so she heads for the stairs and trots upward. A moment later, we hear the bathroom door close with a firm click.

Three women turn to me. “Out with it,” Raven whispers with a toss of her dark hair. “Did something interesting happen between you and Reed?”

“Not today,” I whisper back.

There is a collective gasp, and Halley pats the sofa cushion. “Sit right down. You don’t get to have frozen pink wine until you start talking.”

Oh boy. That’s a dilemma, because Callie’s frosé is pretty fantastic. I sit down on the couch with a sigh. “Fine. Junior year. Ceramics class at Middlebury College.” I already knew who Reed was by the time we first spoke. If he hadn’t sat down beside me, I never would have had the guts to approach him myself. But then luck put me in his path. “He couldn’t get the hang of pottery. We, uh, bonded over it.”

Everyone’s eyes light up like Christmas trees. “Ohhhhh,” Halley says on a sigh. “Please tell me you reenacted that sexy scene from Ghost.”

“N-not exactly,” I stammer.

They let out a whoop, and the bathroom door flies open. “What did I miss?” Sutton yells through a mouthful of toothpaste foam.

“Nothing!” Halley says, smiling sweetly.

After Sutton disappears again, Callie puts a glass full to the brim with pink wine slushy into my hand. “Quick,” she says. “What does ‘not exactly’ mean?”