Triplets for The Millionaire - K.C. Crowne Page 0,71

me as soon as I left the hotel, the sky a brilliant, clear blue ahead, fresh, white powder covering the mountains all around me. The scene was enough to make me pause and appreciate this amazing part of the world I’d very nearly decided to call my home. And, of course, I pulled out my camera to take a few dozen snaps of the bustling scene in front of the Stanley Hotel.

Once I was satisfied, I tucked my camera away and headed to the ski lodge, which was packed with hotel guests eager as I was to get up on the slopes. After renting my skis and waiting in line, I was packed onto a ski lift with a small group of three twenty-something girls. They all gave me flirtatious eyes as I slid into my seat, the bar closing on our laps. I wasn’t interested – how could I even think about any other woman when Lola was waiting for me?

The ski lift went up and up. The girls next to me chatted about their plans for the day, but I stayed focused on the ride. I slipped my camera out of my bag and prepared to snap some pictures, but no matter how I angled myself, I couldn’t get it quite right. And with the view I had, there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to let the perfect shot slip through my fingers. From our height, the massive Stanley Hotel appeared dollhouse size, the stately building snug among the powdered-sugar-white mountains. The guests were little dots below, and the whole scene cried out to be caught on film.

So, I did what any self-respecting photographer would do – I put my life on the line to get the shot.

The girls chatting were to my left, so I shimmied out from behind the metal bar that had come down over our laps to hold us in place. As I did, out of the corner of my eye I spotted one of the women pointing at me, getting the attention of her friends. But that didn’t matter to me - I was more than used to people gawking at me while I was in the process of getting the right shot. I kept at it, wriggling myself out from under the bar.

The girls gasped as I sat up on my knees. I glanced down, the drop below at least a few hundred feet. Without the safety of the bar, a hard jostle of the cart might send me hurtling to the ground. But that was all the more reason to snap the photo and be done with it.

The girls kept chattering as I raised the camera to my eye. I took a deep breath like a sniper about to fire off a round, and then…click-click-click. I took a quick flurry of shots, getting just the angle I wanted before letting the camera hang around my neck.

I turned to the girls, gave them a smile and a wink, then slid back under the safety of the bar. “All part of the job,” I said, tapping the camera with my fingertip.

The looks on their faces changed from concern and fear to impressed. They smiled invitingly, letting me know that if I wanted to chat them up, they were open to it. I simply nodded my head at them and returned my attention to the scenery. With Lola in my life, it was like other women didn’t even exist.

We reached the top and I grabbed my gear and prepared to take the trip down. After twenty minutes or so at the top snapping photos, I got in line for the slope and began my wait. But something strange happened as I did – I felt a rumble under my feet. It was a gentle one, like the earth had shifted slightly beneath me. I looked around, noticing a few other guests had noticed the same thing.

The line moved, the people ahead of me disappearing over the crest of the slope. When it was my turn, I felt another rumble, this one deeper, more intense, but I was too eager to get down to the bottom of the mountain. I stuffed my camera into my bag, threw it over my shoulder, and pushed off.

A big grin formed on my face as I flew down, the cool air whipping my face, the world a blur of white and blue above. Then the ground shifted beneath me and a thunderous noise cascaded from above.