Page 58 of Don't Puck Up
“Where are we going?” Chris asked. “Our friend has organized a weekend away and told us to tag along, but we have no idea where we’re headed.”
The pilot looked over his shoulder at us and grinned. “I know.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’re giving us?” I asked and threw my hands up.
He chuckled and replied, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy, but you’ll know as soon as I check in with the airport to get clearance to land. Be patient for a few more minutes.”
A few more minutes turned into half an hour, then the pilot started talking to air traffic control at Big Bear Airport. Holy shit, V had arranged for us to go to Big Bear for the weekend. I didn’t have ski gear with me, but it was definitely an option at this time of year. Would he want to do it? Or would we be curled up in front of the fire the whole time, drinking cocoa and eating cheese?
Once we’d landed, we were met by another driver.
“He’s thought of everything,” Chris mused with wonder in his voice as we stood to the side while the driver loaded our bags. "He’s also totally spoiled us.”
“Do you feel like this is huge? He’s making a statement, isn’t he?”
“I hope so.” Chris took my hand, and we slid into the back seat of the Lincoln Continental.
“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Minns. My name is Andrey, and I’m on call for you this weekend.” He passed us a business card and added, “My number is on the card. Please don’t hesitate to call me anytime. I’m on call 24-7 this weekend, so it’s no bother.”
“I’m hoping we’re going to have a quiet weekend somewhere lovely that we can switch off and relax, to be honest. I doubt whether you’ll get any late-night calls from us.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the chalet. It’s been recently renovated and has a lovely outlook.”
He pulled into a driveway with stone entrance pillars and drove through an iron gate that stood open. Pine trees, weighted down in snow, lined the verges. It was a long and winding drive that ran up a hill, then over to the other side of it. Dense forest enclosed much of the black top, but when we crested the hill, we had the most spectacular outlook. The snow-covered forest gave way to the deep blue lake reflecting the cloudless sky.
Then we saw the chalet. It was a modest size, but the way it hung off the side of the steep face of the hill was a feat of modern engineering. A balcony surrounded the log cabin, and a high-pitched shingle roof gave it a charming feel. Smoke wafted from the chimney, and my heart soared. Was V already here?
The driver pulled up in front of the stone staircase leading to the front entrance and opened our doors before taking out our luggage and carrying it up the stairs for us. Chris knocked, but the driver handed him a key.
“Your host has asked you to go inside and make yourselves comfortable. Your massage therapists will be here in an hour.”
We wandered inside and into an open-plan living area with high ceilings and a wall of glass overlooking the lake. There was rich timber everywhere and dark leather furniture. On the largest of the soft cream-color area rugs, two massage tables were set up, with white sheets and thick down comforters draped over them.
There were cushions and throw blankets all in natural tones that softened the richness of timber and leather, as did the flickering fire and the vase of red roses on the kitchen countertop.
But it was the view outside that held us captivated. It was breathtaking.
The edge of lake was partly frozen, patches of ice forming like lily pads on the surface. The ice reflected the sun, creating a diamond-like sparkle over the surface. I wandered over to the couch overlooking the view and sank into it, my eyes dipping to the coffee table for the first time.
“He really has thought of everything.” I sighed, reaching for the delicious-looking cheese. There was a charcuterie board set up in front of us, a note alongside it.
“’Please help yourself to the spiced hot chocolate,’” I read and looked around for it. There, on the end table inconspicuously out of the way of the view, was a thermos filled with what I guessed would be hot chocolate, three mugs, and a crystal bowl with a fancy-looking lid on it filled with marshmallows.
Chris filled two mugs and doctored mine how I liked it before sliding onto the couch next to me and pulling the throw blanket over us. “Do you think he’ll be here soon?”
“Let’s find out.” I rang his number, but there was no answer. When it clicked over to his message service, I left him a short one. “Hey, just wanted to say thank you for all this. It’s incredible. We’re looking forward to catching up soon.”
Disappointment threatened to overtake me, but he might not have answered because he was in the air. Perhaps he was coming from Phoenix, or farther afield, and couldn’t talk. I rested my head on Chris’s shoulder, and we ate and drank our fill, gazing out at the lake and relaxing in the warmth created by the fire.
“Oh look, there’s a bald eagle.” Chris pointed at the sky, a giant silhouette against the blue circling in the updrafts. We watched it as it flew down into the trees.
The knock on the door had my heart racing again, hope filling me. Chris jumped up to answer it, and I stood up, too, holding my breath as I waited to see who would walk through the door.
I was disappointed at the same time as being excited. A man and a woman wearing all black walked through. They were our massage therapists.
“Hello,” I greeted them.
Once we got the formalities out of the way, the woman gestured to the massage tables. “Please strip down to your underwear and get under the covers. We’ll go outside to give you a moment.”