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“Okay, I’ll take a bet with you. But let’s make it worthwhile. Fifty thousand says you’ll be gone in under seventy-two hours. But Dan Murphy will still be here.” He stuck out his hand. “One condition—you can’t blow my cover. I’ll be just some guy who’s hanging out hoping for snow. And I think Paris will be sick of your face and toss you and your money out—or you’ll snap from boredom.”
Hamilton grinned. He shook Dominic’s hand. “You stay Dan Murphy—I like the o
dds better that way. And, hell, I’ll stay just so I can take your money. That’s always fun. Now I’m going to shower and shave. And maybe I’ll buy Ms. Dylan dinner tonight.”
He left the bar. Dominic threw back his whisky and let it burn. His phone rang and he pulled it out. “Hey, Zach. What’s up.”
“Just wanted to check in. See how it’s going. Catch you up on business.”
Dominic drummed his fingers on the bar. “Business can wait. I’ve got something else I need your help with.”
Silence answered him, and then Zach let out a soft whistle. “Never did I ever think I’d hear you say that. Business can wait? Man, that place is doing you some good.”
He could hear Zach’s smile in his deep voice. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I need some digging. First on Paris Dylan’s first husband—guy named Jack. Put his plane into a mountain.”
“I take is this Paris is female? I’m also thinking young, pretty, and why are you asking?”
“I’ll fill you in later.”
“Ah, the walls have ears. Got it. Hey, wait a minute, are we talking Paris Dylan the skier? She married rich—an older guy. He married a girl on the short list for the Olympic downhill team.”
Frowning, Dominic stilled his hand on the bar. “You know her?”
“Man, you’d know her too if you ever followed any sports. Girl was good on the slopes. Marriage seemed to kill that for her. Stories I heard—the unofficial ones—said her husband’s parents hated Paris. Thought she was a gold digger. They were old money and had enough pull to get her off that short list. After hubby died, Paris fell off the sports radar. Now what else do you need?”
Dominic smiled. Zach was about the best friend he had. He laid out the other things he needed—most of it stuff he could have done on his own, if he had a computer or strong enough signal to use his smart phone the way God intended. He could already hear Zach’s voice going choppy with bursts of static. “Got it all?” Dominic asked.
“Most of it. But…look, just how serious is this?”
“You’ll know when I do.”
Zach’s voice took on a dry tone. “I doubt that. I’ll get you what you need, but if Hamilton is there, watch your back. That bastard likes to cause trouble just for fun.”
“And I don’t?”
Zach’s laugh came over the line. “Tell Hamilton to go to hell from me. That bastard bought up a ranch we were trying to get with our charity fund to save open ranch land. Turned the whole thing into a luxury development in the middle of nowhere. I was hoping he’d lose a bundle on it, but he’s selling the homes, even in this market. Man has a Midas touch.”
“Forget that.” Dominic straightened. “Oh, there is one business thing you can see to for me.” He got his orders out as fast as he could—this line was breaking up. “Can you do that, Zach?”
“You sure about this?”
Before Dominic could answer, the signal cut out. Cursing, he tried to call Zach again. Moving out to the lobby, he caught one bar and lost it. He didn’t have any better luck on the porch. Giving up, he headed up to his room to shave and change. He was going to make sure Paris was looking at him this evening.
Chapter Fourteen
Paris stuck another smile in place. Hamilton Marshall had asked for a tour. She’d tried to stick Michael with the task, but Hamilton insisted on her being his guide. And she wanted his investment. If she was going to remake this place into a business that actually made money year-round, she needed help. Right now, Hamilton was the only angel investor who’d showed any interest in the proposal she’d sent out. Thank god she had the books in order now—or really, thank you, Dan Murphy.
“If you’d like to see the books…?”
“I’d rather see the view from the balcony.” Hamilton flashed a bright smile at her. She’d never seen teeth so white or even.
She nodded, and smiled even more. Leading him to the balcony, she leaned on the wood. It needed fresh paint, just like every year. The snow was great but it was hard on the buildings.
The view was great. Looming mountains, cloud wisps in the sky, turned gold by the sunset, and dark green trees. Pine-scented air and a hint of fall finally hung in the crisp evening. “We’re hoping for snow soon,” she said. She also rattled off ideas—including some of Murphy’s, such as the cooking classes both in off season and during ski season. Heading out to the balcony, she pointed over to the side lot. “There’s room on the property to add an exercise room, and a spa. We’ll need staff, of course, and staff quarters. The nearest town doesn’t really have great accommodation. And I want to put in a green house and indoor pool over—”
Hamilton put his hand over hers. “We should talk numbers over dinner.”
“Uh…I don’t mix business and pleasure.”
