Slippery Slopes Read Online Free PDF Page B

door’s lock while simultaneously leaning on the door and turning the knob. All this she does with practiced silence, and despite a pounding heart and racing pulse, she manages to slip into the office without anyone seeing.
    Hardly a sigh of relief passes before Dove perches in front of the computer, knowing that she has only five minutes before she runs further risk of anyone coming back from the meeting. Quickly, she wakes the computer from its sleep and tries to log on. Only after the security screen comes up does it hit her— Of course, how stupid of me; Matron obviously has it locked. All that risk of breaking in, for nothing. Dove thinks about stomping her foot on the ground out of anger but knows the threat of being heard is too much. She tries one more time, typing Matron as the password, but of course it’s no good. The screen remains locked.
    “Damn!” Dove whispers, and the moment the word escapes from her mouth, she hears the doorknob turning.
    Even though Charlie manages to score a ride up the middle mountain with James, it’s Melissa who succeeds in grabbing his attention.
    “So, what do you think of chalet life so far?” Charlie doesn’t look at James, feeling that most of the time guys like it when she seems distracted, like she has better things to do than talk to them.
    Shoulder to shoulder with members of his ski team and other well-heeled guests, James shrugs. “I guess it’s too soon to tell.” He looks at Charlie, but she looks out the foggy glass window. Below, skiers and snowboarders swerve gracefully down the powdery trails, ant-small from the gondola’s height.
    Charlie accidentally-on-purpose stumbles, and clutches James’ arm for support. He helps her, and momentarily they have hand-to-hand contact. If only he wasn’t wearing gloves, Charlie thinks. Her own hands are bare, specifically for this purpose. “Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable.”
    James smiles, looking down at the mountain. A few days and the slopes will be jammed with spectators, camera crews, and journalists all vying for a shot of the Olympians and hopefuls as they compete for top place in the Trois L’or, the international race. Even though its name means “three golds,” only one medal is given. And nine times out of ten, that gold medal means a similar feat at the winter games.
    “Oh, no,” Charlie says, shaking her lustrous hair out from her ski hat. “I forgot my gloves. How silly of me.”
    James looks at the sweet girl and does what any good person would. “Here,” he says. “Take mine. They’ll be huge on you, but …”
    “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that. Really, it’s so nice of you, but …” Charlie plays coy—not annoyingly so but enough to seem even more endearing.
    From the other side of the gondola, Melissa has the displeasure of hearing the entire exchange. She tries to get a view of James and Charlie, fighting the urge to wiggle through the crowded car. Bending down, she can see only Charlie’s hair and James’ arms. He’s giving her his gloves? That’s so nice. But also, crap, she does like him. And clearly he’s at least noticing her. Melissa tries to chat with the other team members she’s hosting, but it’s tricky to make conversation while trying to eavesdrop.
    “Thanks, James. You’re so sweet.”
    Gag. Gag. Melissa rolls her eyes and then notices the gondola is nearing the mountaintop. Fine — if he wants to be a knight in shining Gore-tex, that’s his deal. I have people to entertain.
    “If you’ll step this way,” Melissa says, graceful for once as she exits the blue gondola, “we have a choice of double diamonds to the left, jumps to the right, or, if you’re up for a challenge, the little-known secret path.”
    Using the word secret always attracts attention, and this time’s no different, Melissa thinks as most of the skiers head her way. The guests with cashmere accessories and overly plump lips due to