Chelsea walked away, and I pressed my lips together, trying to keep from looking too concerned. “You look tired, Sterling.”

“It’s been a long week.”

I smiled. “But you’re here now.”

“Finley’s not.”

“Sterling,” I warned. “She’s not changing her mind. She loves you more than she loves anyone else.”

“Except you.”

“Of course except me. But she loves you. She just can’t be with you until she takes over Edson.”

His face fell, and his eyes lost focus.

“I’m sorry,” I said, reaching across the table to touch his arm. “We should have picked a place that has vodka.”

My mouth suddenly felt dry. Wanting a drink and realizing it wasn’t immediately available created a subtle pang of panic.

Sterling pulled away. “Careful, Ellie. You’re beginning to sound like me.”

The door chimed, and a family of four walked in, already arguing about where to sit. It was tourist season, and although Sterling and I could be considered tourists, we’d both had homes there for more than eight years. Long enough to be annoyed by the non-resident tourists. We were what the locals called part-time families, and most of the time, if we shared the name of our neighborhood, they didn’t even have to ask. Only one of our neighbors was a full-time family, and that was only because they were from Arkansas and moving to Estes Park was a dream not a vacation.

The two waitresses scurried between tables that were filling by the minute. Chelsea’s sneakers occasionally squeaked on the apricot and white tiled floor while she collected orders and rushed to the back through the swinging doors of the kitchen. She would reappear with a smile, stopping on her way back to fill large plastic glasses at the drink station behind the bar lined with stools for the snowboarders who frequented the café.

Body heat filled the room, and I noticed everyone peeling off layers. Chelsea was working up a sweat while tourists walked on the other side of the wall of windows bundled up in coats, scarves, knit hats, and gloves. The door would open, offering a blast of cool air, and Chelsea let everyone know when she would walk through a nice breeze with her sweet sigh.

Snow had just begun to fall in delicate pieces for the fourth day in a row. The resort was happy, and business was booming, but there was a storm coming, and I worried about Finley trying to make it in.

“How’s Fin?” Sterling asked, seemingly reading my mind.

“She’s in Rio. I think she’s coming here.”

“Oh?” Sterling wiped his nose with his knuckle and sniffed, a telltale sign that he was attempting to be nonchalant.

“You’re so far inside the friend zone, Sterling. Time to give up.”

He looked appalled. “I haven’t tried to get her back in a long time.”

“If a month ago is considered a long time.”