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Chapter 3

Off to a great start, aren't we?

Tobias' POV

I huff out a breath of fresh air. The air is definitely a lot more different here than in Chicago, that's for sure. It's a lot colder too. I place my luggage and suitcase down by the curb beside me. I button up my jacket, which clearly isn't fit for this kind of cold weather. So much for the five hundred bucks it cost me. I glance at my watch, wondering where this car that Prior Valley should have sent out is. Didn't what's her name call and tell them what time I would be arriving?

I'm about to turn to ask the irritating asshole who seems to be busying himself with shoveling snow off the concrete when I hear what sounds like a screeching noise of tires approaching. I look up just in time to see a very large, icy looking puddle come splashing towards me. I brace myself for the freezing muddy water that covers both the left and front side of my body. I feel my body shrink in response to the sudden cold liquid, feeling a certain part of me even smaller than it would normally be. I begin to wipe off the offending fucking liquid when I hear, "Oh wow, I'm so sorry…"

I look up to see a petite, blonde girl rushing in my direction to survey the havoc that she created. My irritation for the woman mellows out just slightly at the sight of her grayish blue eyes. Beautiful. Unfortunately the wind reminds me harshly that I'm soaked and freezing from the puddle of water that her car caused to splash me. "Do you always drive like that?" I scold her, sounding more like my father than myself.

"Look, I said I'm sorry. Plus you really shouldn't be standing so close to the curb."She says, sounding more annoyed than anything else. Like I am the reason why I am now soaked.

"Oh, so it's my fault that you soaked me?" I nearly shouted out. I take a deep breath, trying to stop myself from losing myself right here, right now.

"No. I didn't say that." She begins, but stops as if she sees there is no point in arguing with me any further about this. Instead she turns to the irritating dry asshole behind me with a shovel. "Hey Johnny." She greets him as she heads into the double doors of the airport.

"Hey, Tris." He greets back, he says in amusement as she walks right past him. It only takes her ten seconds to go in and come right back out. I turn on my heels looking around, wondering where in the world this damn car is. I swear if whats her name didn't arrange this shit right then I will-

"Hey, Johnny, did anyone come off of that plane?" The woman asks, I turn back towards the two confused and stunned people just in time to see the irritating asshole point towards me. No, it can't be. Could it?

"You're not Mr. Eaton?" I hear her ask, her voice filled with nothing but humiliation.

"Tobias Eaton, Marcus Eaton's son," I answered. For a short moment I forget that I'm soaked and freezing because the look of horror on her face distracts me. Then it occurs to me, "You're not Andrew Prior," I say, putting two and two together. She must get her looks from her mother, no doubt.

"Tris Prior, Andrew Prior's daughter." She finally answers, we stand there in the most awkward silence I have ever experienced before in my life. "I'll be driving you back to Prior Valley." She says, breaking the silence. She waves us to her car. She stumbles towards it, almost tripping into the same damn puddle that soaked me. She continues towards the back of the SUV. She first opens the door to the backseat and then lifts the trunk and waits for me to pursue her.

Obviously an amateur, I think as I lift my luggage and briefcase and proceed to place my things in the back of the trunk. I hurry off into the backseat, rubbing my frozen hands together to warm them. Should have brought gloves. I am just about shocked out of my core when I'm startled by the slamming of my door. Damn woman, did you have to slam it so hard?

I watch her small form as she walks around the car waving at the irritating asshole one last time before finally getting in and starting up the car once again. She thoughtfully cranks up the heater to the car before placing it in drive. What a fucking nightmare! Hopefully she can drive!

It takes an excruciating thirty minutes to get to what I assume is Prior Valley. Even with the heat, my skin feels frozen against my still wet coat and pants. The resort is a large, two maybe three story, rustic looking log cabin, with a U shaped driveway in the front. With the snow on the ground it's hard to imagine what a place like this would look like in the spring or summer, which is something that we typically offer to our guests. None of this cold, snow shit. I wonder for a moment if this was a mid-life crisis moment my father suddenly had when he decided on this property. I can just pick out what looks like smaller cabins throughout the property. I give up waiting on Tris to hurry up and open the door for me. Obviously, she is an amateur at this. I stretch for a moment when I get out of the car for a moment, looking around. My eyes landed on the overly done Christmas decor that has been done around the property. I can't choose what is worse…. The large wreath that hangs on the door, the red bow around one of the poles, the thousands of Christmas lights hanging. I could just imagine what my father would say if he was here to see this. Ever since my mother left us, Christmas has been a nonexistent thing in our house. I'm sure even then he just put up with it for my mother's sake.

I make a mental note to myself to make a professional logo big enough to see from the highway in my presentation to my father. How else do they expect for people to see this place even exists otherwise?

The large thump of the trunk closing, snaps me back to the present. I turn to see Tris struggling with both of my suitcases and my briefcase. I close the gap between us, making an effort to help.

"No. I got it. I'm stronger than I look." She says, rejecting me instantly. I lift both my hands into the air, surrendering to her will. I have no doubt in my mind that she is as strong as she says she is, even given her small size. But I also am man enough to carry my own crap. I slip my briefcase out of her right hand, letting her know that the suitcase has wheels. I swear I hear her mutter something under her breath, before she places the thing down and lifts the handle and begins to pull it behind her. I follow her in tow as she walks up to the front door and ushers me inside.

"Mom, Dad, we're here." Tris calls out to her parents. I have just enough time to look around at all the disgusting Christmas decor before what I assume are Andrew and Natalie Prior coming towards us. I force a smile on my face as I hold out my right hand to Mr. Prior. He kindly takes my hand and shakes it firmly.

"Hello, welcome to Prior Valley, Mr. Eaton." Mr. Prior says. I haven't met him prior to this. I'm stunned once again… typically my father tends to deal with more aggressive and cold hearted men, not kind hearted couples. Especially not married couples. Again I wonder if this is a midlife crisis thing.

"Mr. Prior, thanks for having me on such short notice," I greet back.

"Nonsense, glad to have you… the more the Merrier. Please call me Andrew." He says, letting my hand go. He places his hand on his wife's lower back as he continues, "This is my wife, Natalie." He says. Great those kinds of people.

"Hello," I greet, holding my hand out to her next. She smiles warmly before taking my hand in return. I can see where Tris gets her looks from… I look around again, noticing the Christmas explosion of decor surrounding us. The dozens of stockings hung by the fireplace, the overly large Christmas tree with both homemade and store bought ornaments, the lights on the windows and the Christmas snow globes and nutcrackers scattered throughout the place. Where in the hell did I end up? The North pole? Santa's workshop? "Do you folks always go all out for Christmas? Or is this for my behalf?" I spit out. There is no way that they could indeed love this much stuff crowding up the rooms.

"No dear, we do this every year. In fact you will come to find that we take Christmas very seriously around here." Natalie says, smiling widely with pride.

"Why don't I show you to your room?" Tris offers, I awkwardly smile letting her lead the way. I insist on carrying my suitcase up the flight of stairs, hating the thought of her carrying it for me. After all, I am a man. I let her lead the way up the stairs with me in tow. My eyes can't help but land on her gorgeous, tight toned ass and what a sight it is. Watching it every step of the way, I imagine what I would like nothing more than to-

"We put you up here, the fourth door on the right." She says, snapping me out of my perverted thoughts. Good thing too, I obviously should not be thinking- "We are full for the next two weeks… You were lucky that we had a cancellation at the last minute. Or else you would have been rooming with me upstairs." She says.

"Upstairs?" I ask. Isn't this upstairs?

"Yeah. There is a hidden stairway behind the kitchen, it leads to the third floor. Which is a private living space for me and my parents." Tris explained.

"I see," I say, as we pass door after door. I notice that each name of the guests are written on a chalkboard on each door. We get to the fourth door with my name written in chalk. Tris opens the door letting me in first. I'm once again disgusted when we enter the room. Does everything have to revolve around Christmas? The bedspread is red with a large Christmas tree in the middle of it, the star bright yellow. What the hell? There are lights around the windows and there is even a Christmas tree decorated on the night side table beside the bed, next to the couch. Great. How in the hell am I supposed to get any sleep in a room full of lights.

"Well I'll let you get settled. Let us know if you need anything." Tris says, not bothering to wait for a response before she turns and hurries off.

"Jesus." I mutter. I put my briefcase on the desk and got out my tape recorder. The sooner I get this done, the better. I begin recording, walking around the room. I imagine everyroom, should be like this.

"The room is basic, with a queen size bed, two nights stands, there is enough room for a couch and a coffee table off to the left of it. The window is average, with a desk off to the back of the room." I note, walking around as I wipe a finger here and check for something there. I find the more I dig through the room, the more Christmas crap I find. Do people really enjoy this shit? I step back a few times, taking pictures with my phone, making sure I get it from every angle. I open the door to the bathroom. My right hand rakes immediately through my hair, tugging on the ends as I enter. Christ, it's worse in here. "The bathroom is basic, a stand alone sink, little space for items, a toilet, storage above the toilet and a shower tub combo," I say, leaving out the snowman shower curtain with the matching floor rugs and toilet seat cover. Did I mention the towels also have snowman faces on them? What the hell is wrong with these people?

Needing to get away from the overwhelming joy of my room, I head out, closing the door behind me. I stop for just a moment, admiring the architecture of the resort. I place my hand on the banister, as I stare off into the open space. I can see the entire first floor from where I stand. The oversized Christmas tree, the ginormous fireplace, and the never ending amount of Christmas decor. Seriously? Did they do this all on my behalf… Do they actually go completely insane around this time of the year?

I begin to descend down, making more verbal notes into my phone while taking pictures of things that I want to make notes to keep or that should go.

-The enormous windows keep.

-The fireplace, keep, but update.

-Library, keep but enlarge.

-The dining room, enlarge and update for a more modern appeal. My father's taste, not mine.

-The rustic look of wood paneling has to go.

I push through a door that swings into the kitchen. I'm cut off guard when I see Natalie kneading dough in the center of the counter. She turns to find me unexpectedly in her kitchen. She smiles warmly given the situation.

"Oh Mr. Eaton, is there anything you need?" She asks. I visibly cringe the way I do everytime someone calls me that. Mr. Eaton is my father, I'm definitely not him.

"Not at all, just looking around," I admit. For the first time in my life I feel a part of me feels like a voyeur of some sort. Sure my Father is buying this place. But usually he takes advantage of businesses that aren't doing well, failure to thrive while he comes in and saves the day and takes over. Sure he makes promises that he has no intention of keeping. After all, once the property is his, he can do what he damn well pleases. That's where Eric or myself come in, we view the property, make notes here and there on what might work and might not… making recommendations that will be what he would really want with the advice, on why the business failed in the first place and how these changes will help make the takeover a success.

"How about some hot cocoa?" She offers, warmly. She turns towards the stove, retrieving a hot kettle and pours out the chocolatey goodness into a mug. She places it on the other side of the counter across from where she is working, inviting me to take a seat and talk. I slide onto the bar stool, placing my phone down beside the hot steaming mug.

There is something about Natalie, her warmth and inviting nature…it reminds me of a woman I once knew. She was a loving, warm hearted woman. It didn't matter who you were, you were always invited into her home. She was that mother that you wish was yours and envied the kid that was so lucky to have her. I remember her always sending me home with non refrigerated snacks that I could hide in my room from my father. She never said anything, but I know she suspected the truth about what was going on in Marcus' house.

"Mr. Eaton." Natalie begins.

"Tobias, please. Mr. Eaton is my father." I'm nothing fucking like him.

"Tobias." She corrects before she begins, "We haven't broken the news to our guests about the buyout…. I was hoping that you wouldn't mind keeping your reason for being here to yourself…" she trails off.

"Of course. I understand," I say. She makes sense, a buyout can be scary for any guests, word can spread fast... She wouldn't want to lose anyone's business.

"I appreciate your understanding. Thank you." She says sweetly, as she continues, "I just wouldn't want to spoil anyone's Christmas." She says, her voice sounding more sincere as if she truly cares about her guests and their experience here. I shrug it off, perhaps it's all just an act to make people feel more welcome. You'll be surprised how far some would go. I watch as she turns her focus, getting back to battling with the dough on the counter. I can no longer hold back the question that I have been asking myself since I got here.

"May I ask you something?" I ask, careful not to overstep.

"Of course." she says.

"Everything seems to be running smoothly here…. Nothing is failing. Business seems to be thriving… Why sell? Why, to my father?" I ask.

"I'm afraid that's a question that has a complicated answer… and not one I can tell." She says, letting me know it's obviously none of my business.

A.N

So it was brought to our attention that many of you aren't receiving alerts like you were before...

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Revised by: FDFobsessed

Like always happy reading, be safe and stay healthy,

Trini