The Kane Cross (Cross 1)

3 - Aspen

After Philip announced there would be no wedding. Baxter ushered Mr. and Mrs. Dawson out of the ballroom. They both looked shocked, but then the tears started. He hated crying women.

"You can get answers from your son." He needed answers too. "Good riddance," he mumbled, as they walked through the lobby. After the ballroom had emptied, The family met in his parents' suite.

"She'll realize she dodged a bullet. I suggest we all pack. I'll call Gavin." Baxter looked at his mother who nodded with a hidden smile.

Their pilot was always on standby. Kasper spoke up first. "I'm gonna stay and ski."

Baxter had only skied once all winter, and it was March. "I think I'll stay in Colorado through the weekend. I need a break. Who's taking care of Tate?"

Doyle wiped her eyes. She surprised Baxter; he hadn't thought she liked Duncan either. "I checked on her. She wants to be left alone. She's going to the island by herself."

Kasper smiled. "Maybe I should skip skiing."

Amelia used the voice that stopped her children in their tracks. "No. She needs to be alone, not drunk with you."

Baxter smiled at his mother's reprimand. The family separated quickly with the plane on standby, only his parents, Doyle and Danielle were returning to Boston. Based on her mascara stained face, his sister would probably go home and continue her high, a worry for another day.

On his own, he texted Danielle who had been dealing with the wedding which didn't happen. His text was simple: going skiing. Then he packed his bags, texted the caretaker, and climbed into the car he had asked the concierge to rent. As he drove away, he whispered, "Good riddance."

The quiet drive was just what he needed. Being behind the wheel was a freedom he rarely experienced, because their chauffeurs drove him around Boston. When he traveled, he used a car service, unless he took the time to go to Aspen. The Kane's spent Christmas in Aspen, but returned to Boston for New Year's Eve. They used the house infrequently throughout the winter. As children, the family would go to the mountains for school holidays. Since he started his career, Baxter had only managed one or two weekends a year. He liked the house best when he was alone. After one text message, there was enough food for a week in the fridge. Baxter cooked, but it was something he rarely had time for at home.

As he drove, memories of his childhood swirled around. The mandatory household internships were his mother's idea. She wanted her children to be capable, and her grand scheme was Saturday internships with the household staff. They each had their favorite. His was in the kitchen with Mrs. Moran, their cook, at least until their old chauffeur offered to teach him to drive.

By the time he reached Aspen a few flakes were falling. Snow was common in March, but he hadn't bothered to check the weather forecast. The first thing he noticed when he stepped inside was the heat wasn't high enough. He had forgotten to turn it up from the app on his phone. Sixty-five degrees. The caretaker must have turned it up when he delivered the food. Baxter adjusted it to seventy. The high ceiling and glass made the house feel cold at anything less.

In the kitchen, he checked the fridge and thought about dinner. With the snow falling, he craved something hearty. Steak and potatoes. He pulled a bottle of red from the wine rack and opened it to breathe. Satisfied with his plan, he went upstairs to change. Baxter should have taken off his suit before the drive. His drawers contained extra clothing. Wearing comfortable jeans, he left his dress shirt on, but rolled up the sleeves. Barefoot, he went downstairs again. He froze when he heard the TV. Had it been on when he arrived? The volume was low. A body was curled up on the sofa. Not just any body, but long legs, curvy ass and perfect breasts.