“Yeah, okay,” Reed says with a nod. “Good plan.”

“Let me grab my coat.” Mark heads back into his office, and Reed follows him.

I sit back in my desk chair, carefully moving the pieces of my cracked mug to the side. I can probably repair it once my heart rate drops back into the normal range. To keep my hands busy, I open a desk drawer and start looking for the super glue.

But I’m also eavesdropping.

“How long are you staying?” Mark asks his son.

“Few days,” is Reed’s reply.

I give a mental fist pump. I can survive a few days with Reed on the property. Then he’ll go away for ten more years, and I won’t have to think about him again.

“I’ll need a room,” Reed adds.

“Talk to Ava,” his father replies. “Ava! Can you make my keys sing one more time? And find a room for Reed?”

“Sure!” I call, reaching for the keyboard. The tracking beacon I put on Mark’s keychain gets a lot of use. I tap the screen a few times, and the telltale strains of Let It Snow begin to trill again from somewhere in the inner office.

“Found ’em!”

Before I’m ready, Reed appears in front of my desk, that grumpy frown still on his face.

Bracing myself, I paste on as cool an expression as a girl can muster when she’s looking up at the one man who destroyed her heart.

“Dad says I should ask you for a room. But I can go to the front desk if that’s easier.”

“No,” I say quickly. “I handle all the comp rooms.” And the room blocks. And the wedding bookings. And the long-term rentals, the entertainment bookings, all major purchases, and about a thousand other things.

I am the backbone of Madigan Mountain, and Reed has no idea at all.

With this calming thought, I reach for my keyboard and click over to the reservations system. It’s only November, so we have some availability, especially in the best, most expensive hotel suites.

A sobering thought makes my fingers stall over the keyboard. If I put Reed in the renovated Vista Suite, he might never want to leave. That room has a jacuzzi tub in the glass-walled bathroom where you can watch the sun set over the mountain while you soak. There’s also a big-screen TV and a fireplace. It’s like a slice of heaven.

But I need Reed Madigan gone. The sale of the resort will be good for everyone involved. It will make the Madigan family even richer than they already are. It’ll allow Mark Madigan to retire, and that man is ready to start this new chapter of his life. He deserves it.

Last but not least, it’s going to give me a promotion and a raise. And—best of all—a two-week vacation. I haven’t had more than a few days off in a row in five years.

Reed Madigan is not going to screw this up for his dad, who’s finally found happiness. Or for me. I won’t allow it.