Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
We come to the pool and stare through the glass at the inviting water.
“How come it’s full? We don’t have members arriving for a couple of weeks, do we?” Akira asks.
“Not my circus, not my monkey,” Hazel says. “But I’m sure they need to test out everything thoroughly before we launch.”
We file past the doors to the member changing rooms and, through them, enter the gym. It’s huge and full of equipment I’ve never seen before. Not that I’ve ever been a member of a gym. There’s a whirring sound in the background and I wonder if the air-conditioning is faulty, until I notice someone on one of the treadmills in the far corner of the gym. There’s something familiar about the hair, and as I turn back to whatever Hazel is saying, realization dawns.
I snap my head back toward the runner.
It looks like Byron.
But it can’t be. It doesn’t make sense. My mind is so full of him, it’s embarrassing.
Whoever it is faces away from us, so I can’t see his face. He’s shirtless, his muscular back shifting and bunching with each step. He’s built like a Greek god. From what I’ve seen of Byron, there’s no doubt he works out—but this guy has the body of an Olympic athlete.
I turn back to Hazel and she catches my eye, following my gaze to the runner in the corner. The runner who absolutely can’t be Byron.
“Let’s go,” Hazel says, her voice hushed. “We don’t want to interrupt.”
She scurries out of the gym and we follow her.
“Was that a member?” Eden asks as we exit the gym and take the steps down to the basement level.
“We’re not open to members yet,” Hazel says. “The launch is February fifteenth.”
“So staff can use the facilities until then?” Eden asks.
“Certainly not. I’m sure you know that use of any of the facilities by staff is strictly prohibited. That was one of the first things we covered yesterday.”
“So who’s that guy?” Eden asks. She needs to drop it. Hazel is clearly getting more and more irritated. It really doesn’t matter who the guy is, does it? Unless it’s Byron, in which case, it matters a lot.
“That’s Mr. Miller,” Hazel says, her voice hushed like we’re supposed to know who Mr. Miller is. Clearing her throat, she resumes the tour. “This is the basketball court.” She opens the double doors onto the full-sized court. I’m sure if I were a basketball fan, I’d be impressed. Given I’m not, I try to seem impressed. “There’s a viewing gallery above that you can access from the hallway adjacent to the gym. You may well get food requests up there, although we expect most to be fulfilled by Eat Well.”
I stare up at the viewing gallery, wondering if Mr. Miller is still running. It’s impossible to make out any of the equipment from where we’re standing.
“Next is the racquetball courts.”
Eden rolls her eyes at me. “Will there be maps?” she asks.
“It’s a good question,” Hazel says, her tone returned to normal. “It’s something we’re working on.”
We’re waiting for an elevator by the entrance to the gym after finishing our tour of the facilities on this level, when the glass door of the gym opens. We all look around to see the shirtless guy with gray shorts coming toward us, a towel around his neck, his chiseled torso shimmering with sweat.
When my gaze finally lands on his face, I find myself looking straight at Byron.
Our eyes catch for a second, and then he looks to Hazel, nods, and takes the stairs by the side of the elevators.
“I’m pregnant,” Eden says. “Like, all-the-way pregnant.”
Hazel glares at her.
“When you said that was Mr. Miller,” I say, as the elevator doors open, “should we know who that is?”
Hazel looks at me as if she can’t believe I’m asking the question. She guides us all into the elevator, and when the doors close, she says, “Byron Miller. The owner of the Colorado Club, of course.”
My knees weaken and I step back, hitting the wall of the elevator car.
Byron? The guy in the cable-knit sweater with a hilarious aversion to cats? The hot chocolate lover in the cabin next door? He can’t be the owner of the Colorado Club. But Byron was definitely the guy running on the treadmill, shirtless, sweaty, and completely breathtaking.
“Told you he was hot,” Akira says, but I can’t answer her. I can’t form words, I’m in such shock.
Why didn’t he tell me? It makes no sense. Okay, so we barely know each other, but he knew I got a job here. I try to recall whether he told me why he was in Star Falls. Was he deliberately vague? And if he’s the owner, why the hell is he staying in the log cabin next to mine? Surely there’s a mansion somewhere on this mountain, ready for him to move in?