Page 20 of Snowed In with You

‘I’m serious,’ said Nate. ‘You’re a really interesting woman.’ Lucy noted that he’d dialled back on beautiful and talented, which made her wonder if he’d actually ever said those words out loud in the first place. Maybe her inner narcissist had subconsciously added them in?

‘And yet you’ve never shown the smallest amount of interest up to now,’ she said, giving him a challenging look. ‘That’s more interesting, don’t you think?’

‘Maybe,’ said Nate. ‘I guess we’ve never had the chance to get to know each other. You know what the office is like. You spend more than five minutes a day talking to a colleague, and everyone assumes you’re sleeping together.’

That’s rich, coming from you, thought Lucy, wondering if he’d used this guileless, just-making-conversation charm offensive on Sasha. It didn’t feel like he was feeding her lines, but that was all the more reason to be on her guard. She’d always had a friendly and mutually respectful relationship with Sasha, but you definitely wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.

‘Like you and Jonno, for instance,’ added Nate.

‘We’re definitely not sleeping together,’ replied Lucy quickly, rolling her eyes.

‘I know that,’ said Nate patiently. ‘But people gossip about it anyway. It’s something to talk about.’

‘Well, it’s absolutely not true.’

‘I’m just saying that you’re not easy to get to know. If I tried, everyone would assume I had an ulterior motive.’

‘And you don’t?’ Lucy raised her eyebrows in question.

‘No,’ said Nate, draining his glass and reaching for the bottle. ‘I definitely don’t.’

‘Do you play board games?’ said Lucy, conscious this was a whiplash change of subject but needing a way out of this conversation. ‘We could play one while we’re waiting for our food.’ And avoid talking, she thought.

‘Sure.’ Nate slid out of the booth and opened the door to the games cupboard. It was well stocked and orderly, with lots of games that Lucy had heard of, plus a few she hadn’t. ‘No word games though,’ he said emphatically. ‘I am not playing Scrabble with someone who writes for a living.’

‘Can you play Rummikub?’ said Lucy, leaning over to peer into the cupboard. ‘I haven’t played for ages.’

‘Sure,’ said Nate. He carefully extracted the box from the stack and sat back at the table. ‘This is numbers. I can do numbers.’

It was Leo’s favourite, thought Lucy, as Nate opened the box and started to lay out the tiles. They’d played a lot as kids, but Lucy had more focus and patience than her brother, and she usually won. Leo would make up extra rules in the hope of beating her by stealth, but that rarely worked. She looked out of the window at the swirling snow, wondering if it was a more respectful honouring of Leo’s memory to let Nate beat her, or to kick his arse six times in a row.

‘Lucy?’ asked Nate.

She turned to look at him, realising she was smiling. ‘Sorry, miles away.’

‘You ready?’ He handed her the stand to put her tiles on.

Lucy took a deep breath. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’m ready.’

CHAPTER NINE

‘A decider?’ said Nate hours later, when they were three games all. Nate had a quick mind and was a good strategist, so they’d been closely matched. There’d been a break for pizza and another bottle of wine had been drunk in the process, which had definitely impacted their ability to spot opportunities for using up their tiles. But it had meant they hadn’t had to make difficult conversation and, all things considered, it had been a good afternoon. Most importantly, Lucy felt like her brother would have approved of her choices on Leo Memorial Day. Better than eating grey beef and watery gravy in a bleak pub in Croydon, anyway.

Lucy’s phone vibrated on the table, and she fumbled as she tried to pick it up. She was, by any standards, really quite drunk.

‘It’s Jonno,’ she said. ‘I’ll find out where they all are.’ She stood up and tottered unsteadily towards the toilets, answering the phone on her way. ‘Hey,’ she said, ‘hang on a second.’ For the first time she noticed that the bar was nearly empty – the only people left were two men who’d been sat in front of them on the death bus, along with Gunther, Chantal the waitress, an older woman who’d just emerged from the kitchen, who Lucy assumed was Gunther’s wife, and the couple who’d been setting up Night Fever’s instruments earlier. There’d been no music yet, but right now there was hardly anyone to play for.

‘Hey,’ said Lucy, closing the toilet door behind her and locking it. ‘I’m back. Where are you?’

‘We’re at the hotel,’ said Jonno. ‘The others are back from the spa and we’ve just wiped out an entire chocolate cake. Where are you?’

‘I’m in a mountain bar with Nate, the one Kristoff was talking about last night. The bus up here made me shit my pants. Why aren’t you here?’

‘They closed all the pistes an hour ago. It’s a total whiteout, didn’t you notice? You should head back.’

‘Shit, OK,’ said Lucy. ‘We’ll get the next bus.’ The idea of getting in Ulrich’s puke-wagon in this weather filled her with terror, but it wasn’t like they had other options.

‘How are you and French Exit getting on?’ asked Jonno, and Lucy could hear the amusement in his voice. ‘Are you having a steamy Alpine romance?’