“What’s a centimillionaire?” I ask. That seems the most obvious question of the five I have in my head right now.

“You know, someone with over a hundred million in the bank,” Bob Girl says. “I’m Akira, by the way. This is Eden.” She nods at the husband-shopper.

“I’m Rosey.”

“Where are you from?” Eden asks. “Because I know it’s not Star Falls.”

I smile, not quite sure how she’s so certain. “Oregon.”

“Oh, so you just came for the job too?” Akira asks. “As soon as I saw ‘exclusive private members resort,’ I packed my bags.”

“Private members resort? I thought this was a hotel?” I ask.

“You can’t come here unless you’re a member,” Akira says. “You have to apply, be accepted, pay a membership fee. It’s a whole thing.”

Wow, that sounds… weird. “So… not a hotel,” I say, hoping for a confirmation.

“It is,” Akira says. “And it has lodges and chalets too. Some are owned and some are rented. But you can only get into this place if you’re a member.”

Eden’s eyes grow wide. “And guess what? Annual membership is a hundred and fifty thousand a year. You gotta be rich to afford that. I just hope some of them are single.”

A hundred and fifty grand a year? Just to be able to come here? That’s insane. “So it’s like an all-inclusive?” I say. One of the girls back at the garage went to an all-inclusive in Jamaica for her honeymoon. Everything was free once you got there. She said she and her husband had the time of their lives.

“The exact opposite,” Akira says, who seems to know everything I don’t about the Colorado Club. “You pay the membership, then you have to pay for everything else on top. So drinks, food, your room—everything.”

“I don’t get it,” I say. “Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you go to Aspen and not spend a hundred and fifty grand a year to come here?”

Akira just laughs. “Because the people who come here only want to mix with other people who are as rich as them. They want the slopes to themselves. They want caviar on every menu. They want waitresses dressed by Hugo Boss. Millionaires go to Aspen. Billionaires come to the Colorado Club.”

“You should really get a job in the marketing department,” Eden says. “You make it sound like heaven for VIPs.”

“That’s what it is. A roped-off section of heaven.”

“And we’re lucky enough to work here,” I say on a laugh.

“Until we land rich husbands and become guests ourselves,” Eden says on a wink.

“I heard the real big fish is the owner of the place. He’s a multibillionaire apparently,” Akira says.

“And about a hundred years old, no doubt,” I say.