Mr. Baggs came back in with two sheets of paper. He handed one to each of them. “As you can see from this breakdown, everything is in order.” Mr. Baggs leaned back in his chair and crossed one ankle over the other leg.

  Amber scanned the list and felt her stomach drop to the floor. She hesitated, hoping she wasn’t alienating Rym by pushing things, but her conscience wouldn’t let her see him get taken. “I don’t think so.”

  “Excuse me?” Mr. Baggs’s foot dropped to the floor.

  “You’re right, these are all legal fees to charge on a transfer. However, this isn’t a transfer, it’s an inheritance, and by law, ninety percent of these fees should either be waived or drastically reduced.”

  Mr. Baggs’s mouth worked furiously, but no sound came out. Rym looked at her, horrified, and she silently pled with him to trust her.

  As Mr. Baggs’s face turned the color of an eggplant, Amber placed her sheet on the desk and grabbed a highlighter from the Grand Canyon mug near the keyboard. “For example, this legal process fee of ten thousand dollars must be a typo. The going rate for this fee is a hundred dollars.”

  “Yes, but that’s hundred dollars for each time we received notice to release the property or funds.”

  “Surely you aren’t suggesting that you’ve had over a thousand notices to release these funds?”

  “No, but—”

  She turned to look at Rym. “Have you asked the bank a thousand times to release these funds, in writing?”

  Rym’s eyes grew wide. “No.”

  “Then I don’t understand why this fee is so high. In fact, there are several fees here—” She highlighted them as she talked. “—that I’d like broken down.”

  “Ma’am, it could take hours to gather that information and we close at five. This could delay the funds transfer.”

  Rym’s hand dropped to her knee, and Amber’s gaze met his. She could see the panic in his eyes. His wallet was empty, he had a brand new wife, and unless the paperwork was taken care of today, he’d be homeless. She felt a large wave of dislike for Mr. Baggs for trying to bully him. This ends now.

  She gave Rym’s hand a little squeeze before tuning him out and focusing on Mr. Baggs. “I suppose it could take a couple of hours—if you had to train your secretary on new software. But this information should be available with a few clicks of the mouse—it’s that little black thing by your keyboard. If you can’t figure it out, I’m sure I, a stranger to your bank but well versed in navigating financial software, could manage to find the files in less than five minutes.

  “However, your reluctance to cooperate and disclose this information leads me to believe that you are fully aware there have been several typos in this fees sheet. I’ve highlighted the suspect ones.” She slid her paper, now covered in bright yellow slashes, across the desk. “It should only take five minutes to make the changes to this section of the contract.”

  Mr. Baggs looked like he’d eaten an entire plate of hot peppers. He took her paper without a word and stormed from the office.

  As he left, Amber sank into her chair, the fight-or-flight hormones floating away like the steam in a hot chocolate cup. Rym gave her knee a small squeeze, and she was surprised to see his hand still resting there. She’d been so worked up she’d ignored it completely. See, I’m getting used to him already.

  “You’ve got to stop,” he whispered harshly.

  Amber felt like he’d taken the wind out of her sails. “Why?”

  “I fight my own battles.”

  “But—”

  Before she could continue, Mr. Baggs came back in. He settled behind his desk with a polite smile, though venom laced his facial features. “You were right, Mrs. Hoagland. Upon closer inspection, there were several typos that have since been corrected.” He placed the new sheet on the desk. Before Amber could glance at the numbers, Rym picked it up, leaving Amber out of the rest of the conversation.

  “That looks much better. Let’s wrap this up.”

  As Mr. Baggs droned on, Amber had several more questions, but she kept them to herself. None of them would cause any major issues in the future or cost Rym anything more than a phone call to iron out. It was against her nature and training to let even the little things go. Yet she held her tongue for the sake of her marriage. She needed to earn his trust. Steamrolling him wasn’t the best way to go about it. What she’d done already could take weeks to repair. She mentally cringed. Pamela was going to call tonight to see how things went, and Amber’s honest report wouldn’t be all that flattering.

  Rym didn’t touch her or look at her for the rest of the meeting. Even though she’d saved him a substantial amount of money, she felt as though she’d failed. It was a feeling she wasn’t used to.

  Once they’d shook hands with Mr. Baggs, left the office, and settled into the car, Amber said, “I’m here to help you.”

  “Is that what you were doing? It felt more like you were babysitting me.” Rym turned the heat up to full blast and turned his vent so it blew on her.

  Amber blinked. “I would have loved to have trained you for this scenario, but it wasn’t like I had a lot of time. You kind of sprang this on me.”

  Rym pulled into traffic. He checked his rearview mirror and then slumped in his seat. “I didn’t know half of what he was talking about.”

  Amber nodded in understanding. Rym wasn’t embarrassed by her actions; he was embarrassed because of his lack of knowledge. She’d wounded his pride. The very man she was supposed to be building up, she’d unintentionally torn down. Amber bit her lip and pulled the blanket close.

  ***

  Rym could see Amber shrinking next to him, and he rubbed his stomach. She was still wearing his coat, and each time they were in the car she burrowed into his blanket. This time, she went so deep he wondered if she was ready to fly back to California. Though he had no intention of letting her run over him—as she had at the bank—he couldn’t afford to chase her off. He needed to smooth things over.

  “There are a lot of things I could do with that money—good things. I’m just … I majored in facilities management at the community college. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to understand all that legal stuff.”

  Amber pressed her finger to her lips, then said, “You don’t have to be a financial genius to run this company. You just need to have people who know what they’re doing at your side.”

  Rym shook his head. Relying on someone else’s expertise was unacceptable. “I’m used to going solo.”

  “That’s not a luxury you can afford anymore.”

  “It wasn’t a luxury, it was a necessity.”

  “What do you mean?”

  They cleared the guard station and Sven waved. Rym waved back and started up the switchback road that led to Grandpa’s house. “Grandpa left me everything when he died, but I rarely saw him when he was alive. My dad was a drunk and Grandpa disowned him shortly after I was born.”

  “I’m sorry. Pamela told me you were estranged, but she didn’t say why.”

  “Yeah. Well, I’m not whining about my life; I just want you to understand that I was alone a lot as a kid. Mom worked like crazy, and I hated the idea of disappointing her like my dad did. Dad was gone or sleeping, so I learned to take care of myself, and I’ve been doing it ever since.”

  Amber’s mahogany eyes filled with sympathy. “You don’t have to do it alone now. Maybe that’s why your grandpa wanted you to have a wife. He gave specific orders about the type of woman he wanted for you.”

  “Maybe.” Rym glanced in the rearview mirror. “Look, I’ll admit you helped out back there. But you’ve got to keep your nose out of the resort stuff.”

  Amber blinked several times. “The resort stuff, as you call it, is the whole reason I’m here.”

  Rym shook his head. “You may know about money, but by the way you’re shivering, I’m willing to bet you know nothing about skiing, ski resorts, or how to run them.”

  Amber took a breath and held it for several seconds. Rym glanced over to see her eyes slowly close and open again. “You’re right,” she said. “I don’t ski. But that doesn’t mean I can’t run a business, and in the end, Iron Mountain is a business.”

  That was exactly the thing Rym was worried about. Amber was no different than the investors nipping at his heals to take over the place. “You’re wrong.” Rym bit out. “It’s a family.”

  Amber didn’t push, and Rym was surprised she let it go. Wasn’t she going to “coach” him out of this too? She didn’t shrink into the coat and she didn’t turn away. She just watched him with those big brown gypsy eyes for a moment before turning to look out the windshield.

  Rym put his arm up on the steering wheel and leaned toward his door. He’d had his say and he was glad he got it out there. But the fact that Amber hadn’t agreed to stay out of things didn’t escape his notice and left him with a pit in his stomach.

  Chapter 6

  As he pulled into the stamped concrete driveway, Rym noticed a red BMW in front of the garage. “There’s Mr. McGraw,” he said, breaking the silence between them. He hadn’t felt any animosity from Amber mixed in with the quiet. However, since she didn’t commit to leaving him alone, there was a weighted feeling. He may have won that battle, but Amber had just signed on for a year of marriage to Rym, and he suspected she was the type to choose not only her battles, but the battlefield as well.

  “Who?” asked Amber.

  “Grandpa’s, and I guess my lawyer. He’s a good guy.”

  Rym parked under the carriage roof that separated the house and the garage. From this angle, the house wasn’t much bigger than the garage, but Rym knew there was more to it than first met the eye.

  Mr. McGraw and Rym shook hands, and then Rym introduced Amber.

  “Ah, the infamous bride. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” Amber’s smile was genuine and Rym couldn’t see a trace of the tension between them in her body. She moved with grace, not shy or held back, but not brazen either.

  Her poise left Rym unsettled. How could she be so calm when her world was changing as much as his? She was about to walk into a home she would share with a stranger for a year, and she appeared as calm as a meadow covered in freshly fallen snow. When the sun hit the snow in the mornings, it sparkled, just like Amber’s eyes.

  Holding out a set of keys, Mr. McGraw asked, “Would you like to open your home?”

  Amber motioned to Rym. “You should do the honors.”

  Rym took the keys and made his way to the front door. When the heavy wood swung open, they were greeted with a breathtaking view of the ski resort behind the property and the valley below. Rym shook his head as he stepped inside. So close to his grandpa and so far away … for so many years.

  Amber followed, and Mr. McGraw came in and shut the door behind them. The entry level had a formal feel to it. There was a grand sitting room with a wall of windows making the most of the view, a bar, and a hallway.

  “That leads to the private wing.”

  “The what?” asked Amber.

  “The private wing.” Mr. McGraw smiled, obviously enjoying showing off the home even though it wasn’t his. “Let’s go take a look.”

  They walked through the sitting room and into what should have been a hallway, but it had windows. Amber stopped to look. “We’re pretty high up. What’s down there?”

  “It’s a ravine. It’s quite beautiful when the snow melts,” said Mr. McGraw.

  They neared the end of the bridge/hall/viewing area and came to a set of French doors that were also locked. Mr. McGraw pointed to the key in Rym’s hand, and he unlocked the door to a stunning home. Rym hadn’t paid much attention to the layout of the house or the architecture when he’d come to see Grandpa. That day, he’d only had eyes for the patriarch.

  Today was a whole different situation. This was the home he would live in and share with Amber, for the next year at least. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

  One wall was made up of windows just like the grand sitting room, but the adjacent wall had a huge rustic fireplace in the center. The mantle had to be eight feet long and a foot and a half thick.

  “Down there is the master suite and a couple other bedrooms.” Mr. McGraw pointed. “The kitchen is just around the corner.”

  Amber and Rym both leaned forward. The kitchen was beautiful. It had stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, hardwood floors, and a huge sink.

  “I thought this was under construction,” Amber said.

  Mr. McGraw grimaced. “Not this half of the home. When he was diagnosed, Michael rushed to finish this area and left the rest. It’s livable, but it should be taken care of as soon as possible, or the homeowners’ association will be breathing down your neck.”

  “Okay.”

  “I put together a packet of information for you so you can familiarize yourself with the place, the CC&Rs and whatnot. I’ll go get it out of the car.” Mr. McGraw shut the door as he left.

  Rym cringed. Another set of papers he wouldn’t understand. There were mountains of lingo people bantered back and forth like he should know what they were talking about. They forgot that he wasn’t raised in this environment; he didn’t go to private schools, live in gated communities, or take tennis lessons. He whispered across the room to Amber like they were sharing information in class. “What’s a CC&R?”

  “Codes, covenants, and restrictions set forth by the homeowners’ association.” Amber ran her hand over the countertop.

  Of course Amber understood exactly what the abbreviation meant. Even though she’d given him the spelled-out version, he wasn’t sure why it was necessary to have them to move into his grandpa’s house.

  Rym dropped to the couch and rubbed at his beard. “I’m in over my head.” A company, an inheritance, inflated bank fees, covenants and something or other, and a wife! This wasn’t him. He was comfortable in his dinky old apartment, not in some mansion on a hill. Who was he kidding? The same feeling of claustrophobia that had grabbed on to him outside City Hall slithered its cold tentacles around his chest. He sucked in air like a man drowning, because he was. He was drowning in Grandpa’s expectations. “I can’t even understand what it takes to move into this house. How am I going to take over Grandpa’s company?” He sank as far as the overstuffed leather couch would let him.

  Amber sat next to him and waited until he looked at her. “One day at a time.” She lowered her voice and spoke with a calm Rym wished he possessed. “Are you going to mess up? Yeah, you will. Everybody messes up. We’ll get through it.”

  Rym caught the word “we” and held onto it like a lifeline. He’d planned to go solo on this, but it was obvious he couldn’t do that. But Amber? Her California sun-kissed skin and wispy clothing had no place in Park City in the winter. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m still not convinced you can do this any better than I can. You don’t even know how to ski.”

  “Then teach me.”

  Rym gave her a wry smile. “One spouse should never teach the other how to ski—it breaks up marriages.”

  Amber scrunched up her nose. “We aren’t a typical couple. I think we’ll be fine. Besides, it’s obvious you love it, and I want to learn.”

  Rym had his doubts. Not about teaching Amber to ski—he’d taught women over sixty how to fly down the slopes. He doubted that she could learn to love it like he did, that it would become a part of her so that when the weather man said “storm front,” her hands would itch to grab her poles.

  She must have sensed his hesitation, because she said, “I’ll make you a deal. You teach me to ski, and I’ll teach you the business side of the resort and the banking and the homeowners’ association regulations, and anything else that pops up.”

  “Are you sure you can teach me all this?” He waved his hand around, indicating the huge house but meaning so much more.

  “Yes. I’m sure.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “It’s what I do.”

  His eyes flicked to the ring on her finger. She was a career wife and she had a pretty good track record. And at the moment, he figured she was his best and only shot. The future of Iron Mountain depended on him getting his feet under him and moving forward. He’d pair up with Amber, if only to get through the next year. By then, he should be ready to fly solo. “Deal.”

  He held out his hand, and as Amber took it she met his gaze. It was just like at City Hall when he’d warmed her hands: he couldn’t look away from the arresting mahogany that seemed to swirl with a myriad of emotions, not all of them of pure intent.

  She leaned closer, her leg brushing his. She closed her eyes, breathing in and letting out a sigh.

  Rym burst from the couch and made his way to the kitchen, hoping she hadn’t noticed the way he’d leaned slightly forward before gathering his wits. Working with Amber was one thing; kissing her, no matter how tempting, would be a mistake.

  ***

  Amber felt Rym stand up and her eyes popped open, following him as he made his way to the kitchen, looking for any sign that he’d seen her reaction to his nearness. She could have sworn he’d leaned in to kiss her. Had she misread his signals?

  She ran her hand down her hair, making sure it was smooth but feeling as if she herself was all tied up in knots. Had she really just leaned in to accept a kiss that wasn’t coming? She pressed her hand to her lips, hoping she hadn’t puckered. They were so big; it would be hard to miss it if she did.

  Well, if she was losing her senses, at least he was keeping it together. As he opened and closed cupboards, she took a couple of cleansing breaths.

  “We’re in trouble,” he said.

  You have no idea. She cleared her throat and her head as she ran her hands down her pants to smooth out any wrinkles. “Why’s that?”

  “There’s no food.”

  Relieved that it was a small inconvenience, she smiled. “Then I guess we’re going grocery shopping.” She pulled out her phone and tapped open the to-do list. “We’ll finish up here. Bring in my bags and then head to the store. Did you bring your stuff over?”

 

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