LITMIR.BIZ

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in fumes and dodging traffic.”

      “Who is breathing in fumes?” A sleepy-looking Kayla walked into the gym, her gaze fixed on her phone as she scrolled through her emails. Her blond hair was bunched untidily on top of her head, and her oversize sweater slid off her shoulder. “Who decided this was a good time to exercise? It’s barbaric.”

      Brenna adjusted the controls. “It’s the same time we met every day in the summer to run around the lake.”

      “But it was daylight. Now it’s dark, and I hate the dark. Any chance we could start this an hour later?”

      Élise glanced across at her. “What time did you start work when you were working for that fancy company in New York?”

      “5:00 a.m., but I was in my own apartment at the time. Back then I worked with reasonable people. No one expected me to show up at a gym and exhaust myself physically before my day started.”

      Élise lifted her eyebrows. “As if you haven’t been exhausting yourself physically all night with Jackson.”

      Kayla gave a smug smile. “That’s different.”

      “Isn’t that his sweater?”

      “It might be.” Her phone rang, and she checked the number. “It’s Lissa in Reception. Excuse me, fellow morning masochists, I need to take this. Hi, Liss, how’s it going?” Still listening, she dropped her bag on the floor. “Wow—that’s great news. Yes, I know it’s a lot—don’t worry, I’ll handle it. Leave it to me.” She hung up, and Brenna increased her pace.

      “What’s great news? What are you handling now?”

      “A run of bookings!” Kayla did a pirouette. “We’ve had another twenty since last night. The snow is bringing them in like wasps to a honeypot.” She typed an email quickly. “This storm is exactly what we needed. I’m starting to think there’s a possibility we could even be full.”

      Élise wiped her brow with her forearm. “And this news is enough to make you dance? I will never understand you.”

      “That’s fine, because I don’t understand you, either. Or je ne comprends pas vous, as you would say.”

      Élise winced. “That is not what I would say. Your French is truly terrible. I beg you, please speak only English.”

      “I have to tell Jackson. God, I love my job.” Grinning, Kayla dialed, tapped her foot impatiently and then pulled a face. “His phone is switching to voice mail. Where is he?”

      “Probably looking for his sweater.”

      Brenna intervened. “Knowing Jackson, he’s already somewhere in the resort sorting out a problem.” She thought about the year before, when they’d all been worried that the business might go under. Jackson had been gray and exhausted with the pressure of keeping the family business going and handling sensitive family issues. “What you’ve done is an incredible achievement, Kayla. Great job.”

      “Team effort. I get them here, Élise gives them food they’ll never forget and you show them the best time on the slopes so they want to come back. We should do a staff gathering, open champagne or something. Make a fuss. Get some excitement going. It would be motivational for everyone after all the uncertainty. I’ll suggest it to Jackson.” Kayla pressed Send on her email. “I need to talk to him because if we’re full, that puts pressure on the whole resort. Not only accommodation, but ski rental, classes, snowmobile hire—all the usual stuff.”

      “If you’re accommodating extra people then they need to eat!” Scowling, Élise increased the speed on the treadmill. “Which means thanks to you, I am going to be working twice as hard this Christmas. I don’t know why I even bother with this treadmill when I spend so much time running around the kitchen.”

      “You love being busy.” Kayla stepped onto the machine next to her, her phone still in her other hand.

      Brenna exchanged a glance with Élise, who simply raised her eyes to the ceiling and gave a Gallic shrug.

      “She was born with the phone attached to her hand. Sometimes I think for Kayla, her phone is more important than her heart. It keeps the blood flowing. If she puts it down, part of her dies.”

      “Put the phone away, Kayla,” Brenna said mildly, “or you’ll have a horrible accident.”

      “And then blood would truly be flowing.” Élise slowed her pace and reached for her water. “And my Sean, he is very busy today already, so he will not have time to put your bones back together if they are crunched by a treadmill.”

      Kayla shuddered. “That is disgusting.”

      “It is his job.”

      “I know what his job is. I don’t need details.”

      “Sometimes I think our jobs have many similarities.” Élise put the water bottle down. “We both spend our day dealing with bones and raw meat.”

      “Oh, please.” Kayla turned green, and Brenna smiled.

      “She’s doing it on purpose to wind you up. She’s laughing at you.”

      “She won’t be laughing when I lose my breakfast over her feet. I am so glad I don’t live in your house, Élise. I wouldn’t want to be present for your end of workday conversations.”

      “You think we waste our time together talking about work? We are both passionate about what we do, but when we finish, that is it. Sometimes we don’t talk at all. We just have sex.”

      “Too much information.” Kayla grabbed the remote and turned up the music then realized it was French and turned it down with a disgusted sound.

      Élise turned it up again. “You are so uptight. What is wrong with sex?”

      “I never said there was anything wrong with it. I just don’t understand your need to talk about it all the time.”

      “Why not? Sex is a perfectly normal, healthy thing. And the O’Neil men are all very physical, sexual men. The moment Sean walks through that door, he stops thinking about his day.” Élise gave a naughty smile. “Last night we—”

      “No!” Kayla covered her ears with her hands. “Brenna, stop her! She listens to you.”

      Brenna glanced at Élise, envying the ease with which she talked about sex, and envying her relationship with Sean. How would it feel to come home to someone you loved at night instead of an empty house? How must it feel to know that the person you loved, loved you back? You wouldn’t have to hide it, or hold it in. You wouldn’t have to dig your nails into your palms to stop you from reaching out and touching.

      Kayla was clearly still in work mode. “Élise, I know you were thinking of closing the Boathouse for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but if we’re full, I think you might need to keep it open.”

      Élise was running fast again, her dark hair brushing her jaw. “Are you telling me how to manage my restaurants?”

      “I’m telling you our guest numbers have doubled.” Strolling on the treadmill, Kayla was still checking emails on her phone. “They’re going to need to be fed. I see an opportunity.”

      “I see a nervous breakdown.” Out of breath, Élise stabbed a button on the machine and slowed down. “I will need to hire extra staff for the Christmas week.”

      “Tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen.” Kayla scanned an email. “I’ll mention it to Jackson. Can’t Poppy take over the running of the Boathouse for the holidays?”

      “She is busy in the restaurant with me. I will work something out. And now that is enough! What happened to our rule never to talk about work while we exercise? Not that what you are doing could be called exercise. The only part of you moving is your fingers. You haven’t burned any calories at all.”

      “This isn’t work,

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