“Do you get kicked out of town if you don’t hit the slopes?”

Her lips twitched. “Something like that.”

She led me into the great room. I had to admit, the giant stone fireplace made a statement.

A look crossed Tessa’s face and I couldn’t look away. “This is my favorite room in the hotel.”

“It’s a nice room.”

She straightened. “It’s more than nice. A man proposed to his girlfriend over there yesterday.” She pointed to the fireplace. Then she turned, her gaze falling on a table by the windows. “My parents and I sat there on my eighth birthday. I got to have a pink lemonade and I wore my favorite sparkly dress. They brought me here every year for my birthday until I was eight.”

My chest tightened. “That’s when you lost them?”

Her smile faded. “They were killed in a car accident. They were driving back from Denver in the winter and hit a patch of black ice.” She pinned on a perfunctory smile. “My aunt kept up the tradition. We were here for my thirtieth a few months back.”

Shit. I felt an uncomfortable feeling at the thought of a tiny, dark-haired girl finding out her parents were dead. “You were close with your parents?”

She blinked at me. “Of course I was.”

In my experience, there was no of course about it. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She gave me a tight nod. “What I want you to see is that this place is more than just walls, stone, and beds. It’s a place where people make memories.”

“I’m in the hotel business, Tessa, not the memories business. I want people to enjoy their stay, but first and foremost it’s about filling rooms and providing the right amenities to attract them.”

She huffed. “You don’t get it. What’s one of your favorite memories?”

“When I was appointed CEO of Langston Hotels.”

She made a face. “Not to do with work. When was your last vacation?”

I frowned.

Her mouth dropped open. “You must take a break sometimes. You’re rich. You can vacation anywhere you want.”

“I have a business to run.” I hated that I felt a prick of defensiveness. “I attended a friend’s wedding in New Orleans recently.”

“Did you relax? Delegate work and not answer your phone?”

I stared at her.

She threw up her hands. “You’re looking at me like I just asked if you tangoed naked in Times Square.” With a shake of her head, she swiveled. “Let’s keep moving.”

She headed for the lobby, and I followed, my gaze dropping to the small sway of her hips. She moved with brisk precision, like she had places to be and things to do.

“Tessa!” a voice called.