Читать книгу Secret Crush of a Chalet Girl: - Lorraine Wilson - Страница 5

“So, what’s that you’re reading?”

Tash’s voice pierced Sophie’s happy bubble like a razor slashing a party balloon.

“Just a book.” Sophie shifted on her bar stool, inching the Kindle screen away from Tash’s line of sight.

Tash slid onto the cow-skin bar stool next to her and didn’t seem to pick up on Sophie’s irritation at being disturbed.

“You’re early.” Tash swiveled towards her. “We’re not meeting until eight.”

“I wanted a bit of time alone,” Sophie replied.

Fat chance of that around here, or in the dorm room at Chalet Repos, or…anywhere for that matter.

Privacy was the only luxury in short supply in Verbier.

“Me too, those kids were making a right racket back at the chalet. I wish Scott would make it an adults-only chalet.” Tash grimaced.

Sophie sighed heavily. Time to relinquish her vain hope for a bit of peace and quiet. There was no stopping Tash if she’d decided she wanted to talk to you. Things were certainly…difficult back at Chalet Repos, for more than one reason. But it wasn’t anything she wanted to talk to Tash about.

“So, what are you reading Ms. Trent? Why don’t you want to tell me?” Tash had grabbed Sophie’s Kindle before Sophie could stop her.

Sophie glared at Tash, who scrolled through the pages on-screen, a delighted smile on her face.

“Ooh, it’s a romance. I didn’t know you were into these bodice-rippers.” Tash’s cat-like eyes gleamed, reflecting the bar’s tea lights. “So, what page are the dirty bits on?”

“Ssh, will you keep it down?” Sophie reached for the Kindle but Tash lifted it above her head. She was only attracting more attention now from the other customers of Bar des Amis, some of them starting the après ski early, while others clearly hadn’t made it back to their accommodation to change from their ski gear yet. A hot flush crept up Sophie’s neck and heat radiated from her cheeks.

She automatically cast her eyes down to the floor – the way she’d always coped whenever she wanted to disappear.

What she’d give for a trap door right now. Or even just a chance to escape into her book again.

“Nathan tenderly stroked the side of Ava’s face. Yet despite the tenderness, his dark eyes blazed with the heat of passion and her skin tingled at his touch. ‘Do you feel it too?’ he asked huskily as their eyes locked,” Tash read aloud in a ridiculously over-the-top acting voice. “Then he reached for her, his mouth was on her lips, tasting her hungrily as his hands slid down to cup her…”

“For God’s sake, Tash, will you just shut up?” Sophie spoke fiercely into Tash’s ear, fighting the feelings of humiliation. She knew Tash wasn’t deliberately trying to ridicule her but this felt too much like all those horrible times at school for comfort. It felt like Tash had ripped all of Sophie’s clothes off, leaving her exposed for everyone to laugh at her, plump and naked except for her mis-matched underwear.

At last Sophie managed to grab the Kindle back and slumped, mortified, onto her bar stool.

“Ça va?”

Sophie looked up to see who had spoken, afraid she’d find the owner of the voice laughing at her. Instead she found the dark-grey eyes of Luc Dubois, the owner of Bar des Amis, fixed on her.

The very gorgeous bar owner.

Who’d just heard everything Tash had said. Not that she was ashamed of liking romance novels but it was private, something she kept to herself precisely to stop things like this occurring. And it was too precious an escape for it to be exposed to ridicule. Books had always been her escape – in the school library, where she’d hid from the bullies at lunchtime, devouring the Sweet Valley High series and then here in Verbier. When it seemed everyone was finding love except for her the romance novels on her Kindle had provided solace. Given her hope.

She shrugged, fighting the lie rising to her lips, unwilling to automatically say the ‘Oui, bien merci’, socially accepted response. For one thing it felt like Luc actually wanted to know, rather than just a standard greeting.

His grey eyes flickered with sympathy. Sophie couldn’t imagine he knew what it felt like to be ridiculed or bullied. Luc was cool without trying. His dark hair looked wilder than ever this evening, as though he’d just rolled out of bed and sloped down to open up the bar, his handsome jaw peppered with stubble. Maybe he had. For a second she wondered who he’d been in bed with. He was gorgeous enough to have his pick of the Verbier lovelies.

Don’t be ridiculous Sophie, as if someone like him would be interested in you.

She chided herself. He was out of her league, so what was the point of speculating? She might be average size back in the UK but here she was slightly plump, the only bonus being large, real, breasts. Also she was very definitely not cool without trying. In fact she had to try very hard just to fit in. She spent more than she should getting her hair coloured and highlighted to a perfect caramel blonde before she came out for the Verbier season each year, blowing all the tips she made in the summer at Uncle Frank’s café.

As it was she fitted in but she would never stand out. A ‘six out of ten’ she’d heard a group of guys rating her the other night. So while she’d love the intent look Luc was giving her to mean more, he was just being kind.

Luc jerked his head towards Tash, who was now having a noisy conversation with one of the instructors from the Swiss Ski School. “Ignore her, Sophie. It’s not important.”

He knows who I am.

She loved how he said her name, his Swiss-French accent making it sound special, as though it weren’t entirely ordinary. Just like her.

“It’s important to me,” she replied quietly. The days of being bullied at school might be in the past, dead and buried, but she couldn’t deny the ghosts still had the power to kick her where it hurt.

She felt the flush on her cheeks growing hotter for a reason entirely different than embarrassment and tried to ignore the sweet unfurling sensation in the pit of her stomach. Well it was actually a fair bit lower than her stomach…

He’s too good-looking for you. Sixes don’t go out with tens, not in the real world.

“Désolée. I’m sorry,” Luc said softly. “But even so, don’t let it get to you.”

Easier said than done.

“You don’t really believe that romance crap, do you?” Tash’s voice gate-crashed the intimate moment between Sophie and Luc.

Normally Sophie liked Tash. They’d been friends and colleagues for a couple of seasons now but tonight Tash was really winding her up. At her best she was like an over-enthusiastic puppy – loyal and emotionally honest. At her worst she could teach a bull in a china shop a thing or two.

“Yes, I do,” Sophie replied defiantly. “I believe there are men out there who can be romantic and that falling in love could happen to any one of us.”

Tash snorted. “True love, the one, a magical connection? I just don’t get it. And if buying a bunch of flowers when men have done something they feel guilty about is romantic, well, give me realism any day. It’s all about sex, pure and simple.”

“Just because you haven’t fallen in love yet doesn’t mean that you never will,” Sophie said with conviction. “And you can laugh all you like but romance books are really popular, they sell well so I can’t be the only one who likes them.”

“Hi you two, what’ve we missed?” Amelia grabbed the free bar stool next to Sophie and Lucy moved in on the other side of Tash, waving at Luc to get his attention so she could order a drink.

Sophie seethed quietly. She might as well have stayed back at the chalet for all the peace and quiet she was getting here. Were Amelia and Lucy also fleeing the noise of the kids’ bedtime routine back at Chalet Repos? She glared at Tash, willing her to drop the subject now the others were here.

“We’ve been reading from Intimate Surrender,” Tash said, taking a sip from her cocktail, seemingly oblivious to the furious vibes Sophie sent in her direction. “Our Sophie is a bit of a romance fan on the quiet.”

“Yeah, I can’t think why I kept my reading tastes quiet.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, that would be because I knew you’d make fun of me. Although I hadn’t anticipated the whole public humiliation scenario. Thanks for that.”

Luc caught Sophie’s gaze and winked at her while he got the girls’ drinks. She’d felt a delicious stirring of desire inside and tried to quash it.

He’s just being nice, that’s all.

“Those books are a bit unrealistic,” Lucy said, now perched on a bar stool and sipping at the cocktail Luc had put in front of her. She was so petite she looked like a tiny, fierce bird but her no-nonsense, matter-of-fact manner made you underestimate her at your peril.

“But if you want real life you just have to open your eyes. Books are so much more than that, they take you into different worlds, they open up your mind.” Sophie slipped her Kindle into her bag and firmly tugged the zip closed before Tash could think about taking it and reading aloud from it again. She didn’t feel she’d made her case properly and it frustrated her.

“If they make you believe in Prince Charming, aren’t you going to be disappointed when the belching Mr. Average leaves his socks on the bathroom floor?” Amelia asked.

Great, three against one.

“I’m not expecting Prince Charming,” she faltered.

Just Mr.-Right-For-Me.

Tash snorted. “You could’ve fooled me. When was the last time you had sex? Who exactly are you holding out for? I hate to disappoint you but I think Prince Harry is taken; he looked pretty loved-up last time he was in Verbier.”

Lucy choked on her drink, clearly still not used to Tash’s forthrightness, even though they were nearly ten weeks into the season.

Sophie narrowed her eyes at Tash, refusing to answer, horribly aware of Luc, still in earshot. Not that he had any reason to be interested in their conversation, but…

“It’s been a while, girl,” Tash continued, in her usual blunt manner.

Sophie sighed. It was much easier to humour Tash than argue with her. And the quicker the better. It was the only way to shut her up.

“Okay, yes, it’s been a while,” she admitted quietly.

“We could go off to the Hotel Royale’s hot tub if you’re looking for some action,” Tash suggested.

“I might as well hang a sign over my head saying I’m desperate. Which I’ll have you know I’m not.” Sophie’s eyes flickered involuntarily over to Luc, but he stood with his back to them, taking a bottle down from the shelf, no indication he was listening.

And why would he be?

She wasn’t interested in the kind of casual sex Tash was talking about. She’d been there and done that and had got a whole lot more than a T-shirt for her trouble.

Next time it needs to mean something. It has to…

“I’d be desperate if I hadn’t had sex for a year,” Amelia said, grinning.

“It’s going well with Matt then, if that smile is anything to go by?” Tash asked.

“Great thanks, he’s coming out for Valentine’s Day, for the whole weekend in fact.” The wattage of Amelia’s smile increased until she was beaming.

“Aw, sweet,” Tash replied.

Sophie thought she saw a flash of something like envy in Tash’s cat-like eyes but it quickly disappeared to be replaced by a dark screen.

When Tash headed off for the loos Sophie followed her.

“Are you okay?” Sophie asked while they washed their hands together in the strange trough-like basin running the length of the washroom.

“Of course.” Tash’s expression remained neutral.

“Don’t you want to find your prince Tash?” Sophie asked softly.

“I think … I think mine got lost somewhere, I’m not holding my breath.” Tash shrugged. “And neither should you. You need to get out there, have fun and stop thinking about romance, stop reading romance novels. They’re giving you false expectations. All it will get you is disappointment.”

“Maybe.” Sophie conceded, purely to shut Tash up. Whatever Tash said Sophie would still hold out for something extraordinary. After what she’d been through she needed something special, someone who thought her special. And if she never found him, well she’d just have to remain single.

Better no relationship than a bad relationship.

She slipped back onto her cow-hide bar stool wondering whether to head back to Chalet Repos. But if she did, one of the guest’s children would be bound to be having a don’t-want-to-go-to-bed tantrum and she’d have to smile and pretend it was okay as she cleared up the latest mess they’d created, even though she wasn’t technically on duty.

As a veteran chalet girl she knew you had to make yourself scarce during your free time or you’d fall prey to the “would you mind just’s” and “if you’ve got a sec’s”.

“So, who’s doing the Valentine’s day Speed Ski Dating event?” Lucy asked.

“Yes, I’ll be there. It was a laugh last year,” Tash said loudly, drinking her cocktail as fast as if it were orange squash.

“I won’t be going, because Matt will be out here. We’re going to be busy and it’s not as though I’m single anymore.” Amelia turned to Sophie. “How about you?”

Sophie considered. She’d never met anyone yet in all the years she’d been coming to Verbier for the winter season. But what else was there for her to do? Hang around at the chalet being lumbered with extra child-care duties, feeling sorry for herself as she cleaned chocolate fingerprints off the windows.

“I suppose.” Sophie grimaced. “Being single on Valentine’s Day isn’t much fun and I’ve got nothing better to do. I’m just not too sure you can make love happen by throwing a bunch people together and hoping they’ll pair off.”

“It is a bit random but you might meet someone.” Amelia shrugged. “It happens.”

Sophie was glad for Amelia, really she was, but there was a certain smugness about her smile that irritated her.

God, I’m being a bitch tonight.

Sophie picked up her drink, hoping it would help improve her mood and make her a little nicer.

“She’s right you know, it might happen.” Tash poked Sophie in the ribs. “Especially if you look for Mr. Now rather than Mr. Forever. You’ve got to lower your sights, Soph, have some fun.”

“Hmm,” Sophie replied noncommittally, draining her cocktail. Then she looked up, catching Luc’s sympathetic grey eyes, and a fresh flush crept up the back of her neck.

“Do a lot of people go?” Lucy asked.

“You get a good crowd.” Tash put her empty glass down on the bar. “Come on. Let’s go to The Lodge and find some nice men to buy us drinks. I’m skint.”

Sophie groaned inwardly. She hated cadging drinks, feeling obligated. Even worse she hated feeling like a piece of meat at a cattle market. What was the point of going to a hook-up bar when she didn’t want a one-night stand?

I’m twenty-five, am I getting too old for this?

She enjoyed skiing and loved Switzerland. She felt truly happy in the mountains, enjoying the sun, snow and crisp Alpine air. It had always worked out perfectly for her, given Uncle Frank’s café in the Lake District closed for the winter. Being a seasonaire suited her; that hadn’t changed. But something else had.

Maybe she could slink back to the dorm room without anyone noticing and put her headphones on to drown out any tantrum noises. If the other three were out for the evening it would give her some quiet time to read. Without interruptions.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, I’m going back to the chalet,” she said, sliding off her stool and grabbing her bag.

Tash snorted again. “Back to Nathan?”

“Who’s Nathan?” Amelia asked, confused.

“He’s in the book she’s reading,” Tash explained. “But he’s not going to keep her warm at night, is he? I’d take a real Pierre over a fictional Nathan any day, wouldn’t you?”

“I’ve got my electric blanket to keep me warm, thanks,” Sophie replied.

“And Pierre would probably hog the duvet.” Lucy smiled at Sophie in a way that made Sophie feel maybe she had an ally after all.

Sophie recognised his voice from where she stood in the queue for a green armband. As if she could ever forget it. Surreptitiously she slunk to the back of the queue and edged away, hoping he wouldn’t see her, dread pumping through her body.

He probably doesn’t even remember you.

She propped her skis up against a wall and leant against it herself for a minute, glad to feel the solid concrete behind her, even though it was freezing. Why was she even doing the Valentine Ski Dating event again? All so she could meet more jerks like Thomas?

She stared up at the snowy peaks and startlingly blue sky, scenery she normally loved but right now it couldn’t distract her from the memory of another day in a queue for the chair-lift, imprinted into her brain with vivid clarity. It’d been the morning after her hideous mistake, her experiment at trying to be like everyone else, doing what everyone else was doing.

Having fun.

Except it hadn’t been fun. Not even remotely.

Sophie squeezed her eyes tight shut as though she could squeeze the memory out of her mind. But it wasn’t that easy and the wave of remembered humiliation passed over her, drenching her with fresh embarrassment at the memory. She couldn’t stop the words from flooding her thoughts too – the words Thomas had used to describe their night together to his friends the next day in the queue for the ski lift.

‘Always go for the overweight ones, lads. Fat girls try harder in bed.’

It’d been two years ago but he might as well have just said it. She didn’t know what had been worse, those words or the look of pity in the eyes of his friend who had seen her first and had belatedly nudged Thomas to shut him up. Discovering afterwards that he and his friends held No Standards Wednesdays competitions, to see who could bag the biggest “minger” had been the ultimate humiliation. Although she couldn’t be sure they’d done it that particular night they’d hooked up… Still the suspicion was enough to make her hate Thomas like she’d never hated another human being before. She was angry with herself too, for imagining a handsome, semi-professional skier had fancied her.

What really rankled was that she hadn’t even been overweight, not medically anyway, although maybe by Verbier trustafarian standards. Technically she’d been a healthy weight for her height for almost the first time in years that season. But in two sentences he’d swept away any achievement she’d felt in her weight loss. It seemed she was always destined to be the fat girl. No matter how much weight she lost after that, a little bit of her always felt like the fat girl inside.

Tash had been wrong, it’d been two years since she’d had sex, not a year. There’d been a sweet guy she’d been friendly with last season but all they’d ever done was cuddled. He’d never tried to take it further and she’d been too scared of rejection to push it. God forbid she be seen to “try harder” again. Now she was afraid of trying at all. If she fancied anyone she kept it quiet.

Opening her eyes again she scanned the crowd in front of her. There was no sign of Thomas and his loud friends. It was safe to go ahead.

But do I really want to?

“Hey, there you are.” Tash came up alongside her, already wearing a dark-green armband over the sleeve of her purple ski jacket. “Where did you get to? Why haven’t you got your armband yet?”

“I’m just doing it.” Sophie shuffled forward to join the end of the queue. This had to be better than spending Valentine’s Day on her own, didn’t it?

“Seen anyone you like the look of yet?” Tash joined her in the queue while Lucy went off to the lockers for her skis. For the first time that day Sophie noticed Tash’s eye make-up, the dark-grey Kohl and deep-pink eye-shadow accentuating her cat like eyes, the same shade as the pink streaks in her fair hair. She looked beautiful, although a little scary. Sophie admired the men who had the courage to take her on.

“Hmm, not sure.” Sophie looked half-heartedly around her. There were quite a few tourists in the crowd joining in the event and many were drinking openly or already drunk.

“Twats who fancy themselves as Johnny Depp,” Tash sneered dismissively at a group of young men dressed up as pirates, already drunk and spraying each other with expensive champagne. “What a waste of Moët.”

“Well they keep the rescue helicopters busy I ‘spose.” Sophie pursed her lips. Why did she always feel like a kill-joy lately? Jaded and cynical already, at twenty-five. She sighed, something was going to have to change.

Once she’d given her name and put her green armband on over her sleeve they headed back to find Lucy and clicked their skis on, heading for the start of the run.

“So how is this supposed to work exactly?” Lucy asked, glowering as one of the pirates cut her up and wolf-whistled.

“It’s like a singles’ bar on snow really – you see someone you like the look of, you go and say hello. And we all meet up at the mountain cantine at the next station for a drink. Then you ski to the next station and stop for a drink and so on. There’ll be food too I think,” Tash explained, casting a cool eye over the crowd around them. “You could accidentally ski into someone you fancy but really it’s not advised, they’re not going to be too keen on you if you’ve just broken their leg.”

Sophie decided just to enjoy the run without even looking at the people around her. Every year so far she’d looked, been hopeful of catching someone’s eye but being alone with her Kindle definitely seemed a better deal than landing up with the likes of Thomas. The only romance they knew was pretending to be charming until they’d actually got you into bed. Then they dropped the act.

Like kissing a prince only for him to turn into a frog. What’s wrong with this picture?

She put her sunglasses on and as they set off down the slope she enjoyed the familiar buzz of speed, fresh air and fantastic scenery. She’d always loved sledging as a kid but this was way better. You had so much more control, once you’d got a bit of experience. All around her she could see inexperienced skiers going far too fast and with little or no control. It took all her skill to avoid collisions with them.

Pulling up at the bottom of the slope and avoiding those whose skills clearly didn’t include stopping without falling over, Sophie deliberately avoided catching anyone’s eye. Which was why when someone skied directly in front of her and stopped suddenly, spraying snow up into the air she practically jumped out of her skies.

“Pardon Mademoiselle,” the handsome skier said, his face stretched into a grin. His fair hair flopped down into startling blue eyes. “Sophie?”

“Er, oui?” Sophie replied, frowning slightly. How did this guy know her name? Then she noticed he didn’t have a green armband on like the rest of them and felt more confused than ever. Was it one of the organisers?

“J’ai quelque chose pour vous.” From inside his jacket he retrieved a red, heart-shaped card and he handed it to her. Before she could protest or ask who he was he’d skied off, down towards the next run.

“What did he give you?” Lucy asked. Both she and Tash snapped off their skis and crowded round her, peering over her shoulder.

Sophie showed them the heart-shaped card with Mme. Sophie written on the front. Then she turned it over and stared with astonishment at the writing on the back. “I think it’s some kind of clue.”