FALLING FOR MR SNOWFLAKE

JAKE I woke up to pain.Not the dramatic, life-flashing-before-your-eyes kind. More like the you tried to ski for twenty minutes and now your calves are filing for divorce kind. Every muscle in my legs screamed, and my spine felt like I had wrestled a pine tree in my sleep and lost.I groaned into the pillow.“You’re a genius” I muttered to myself, rolling over and blinking at the pale morning light pouring in through the chalet’s massive windows. “A billionaire genius. Who can't even stand up on a pair of skis.”I stared at the ceiling for a minute, debating the pros and cons of just hiding in this overpriced cabin for the rest of the week with cocoa, books, and the world’s fastest Wi-Fi.But then I thought about her.Lily.The way she’d laughed when I crashed into that snowbank like a human-shaped disaster. The gentle sarcasm. The braid falling over her shoulder as she turned back to make sure I wasn’t dead.I groaned again but this time for a very different reason.I wasn’t here t

LilyI always loved the quiet just before the afternoon lessons. The air crisp and clean, kids tumbling around on their tiny skis and the hum of the lift in the background like a lullaby of winter. The snow today was soft and powdery.I was sipping the last of my peppermint tea from a dented thermos when I saw him.Jake.Punctual this time, which was a small miracle in itself. He looked well, better geared, for starters. His jacket was sleek black, fitted, and clearly new. Not in a flashy way, but in the “I-don’t-shop-sales-rack” kind of way. His boots actually matched and his helmet didn’t look like it had survived three wars.Still, he carried himself like a man preparing to face his doom.“Hey, disaster” I called out with a grin, sliding my goggles up.He gave me a sheepish smile as he trudged over, skis balanced awkwardly on his shoulder. “I’ll have you know I’m now a seasoned skier. I watched three YouTube videos last night.”“Did they cover falling with flair? Because that’s you

LILYThe glow of the laptop screen painted my small living room in soft blue light, contrasting against the crackling fire in the corner. My cabin wasn’t much just hand-me-down furniture, squeaky floorboards and a heater that coughed more than it warmed but it was home. Usually, I loved that about it. Tonight, though, it felt a little too small.I pulled the wool blanket tighter around my shoulders and stared at the application form open on my screen.“Administrative Assistant – Ryland Corporation.”The words looked almost intimidating in bold black font. I’d stumbled across the listing last week when I was at the town’s little library, scrolling through job boards while the kids I taught skiing were warming up by the fire. Normally, I wouldn’t have looked twice at something like that. Big company. Big city. Big expectations. Definitely not Aspenridge material. Definitely not me.But the description had stuck with me: detail-oriented, organized, adaptable. Benefits that sounded like

JAKEThe jet cut through the clouds with a low hum, smooth and steady, nothing like the uneven rhythm of my heartbeat.I leaned back in the leather seat, the cabin dim except for the soft glow spilling from the oval windows. Snow still clung to my boots, melting onto the expensive carpet were tiny pieces of Aspenridge I hadn’t bothered to shake off.I told myself I’d left on schedule. That this was the plan all along. A week away. A little anonymity. A few clumsy lessons on skis to remind myself I wasn’t untouchable.But the folded carbon copy of the letter I’d left for Lily sat heavy in my pocket, burning through the fabric of my jacket.It felt cowardly.No , worse. It felt personal.“Mr. Ryland?” My assistant, Henry, poked his head into the cabin, tablet in hand. “We’ll be landing in forty minutes. The board moved your quarterly briefing up to this afternoon. Do you want me to prep the files now?”I gave a short nod. “Send them through.”My voice sounded like mine again, the tone of

LILYThe email felt like a dream I wasn’t supposed to have.We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the role of Assistant Personal Secretary. Please report to Ryland Enterprises headquarters on Monday at 8:00 AM.My mouth had gone dry when I first read it. Then I read it again. And again.By the third time, my pulse was hammering in my ears.I’d actually passed.Me. Lily Carter, ski instructor, small-town girl, more comfortable on snowy slopes than inside glass buildings, had landed a position in one of the city’s most intimidating companies.I laughed out loud in my tiny apartment, startling the kettle into whistling sharply. “I did it!”The sound bounced off the thin walls, and for a moment I spun in a little circle, grinning like a fool.Then, of course, reality came crashing back in. Monday was only two days away.The morning of my first day, my nerves were doing figure-eights in my stomach.I’d laid out my clothes the night before navy slacks, a plain white b