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  Geneva was a far cry from West Virginia. Instead of bleak, simple buildings, the architecture in Switzerland was breathtaking. Buildings dating back hundreds of years stood alongside newer high-rises. As the train moved further away from the city, the mountains became clearer, peeking out from behind the clouds.

  “I can’t wait to tell Mrs. Murray about this,” Ryan tugged on my shirt. “Can we take some pictures so I can show my art class when we get back home?”

  “Of course.”

  I opened my cell phone to the camera and handed it over to him. He loved being the one to take the pictures, pretending like he was an actual photographer and carefully deciding on every angle and coloration. This trip was all about Ryan. After all, it was his first vacation, unless day trips to the beach counted, and I wanted it to be perfect.

  I’d never had an overwhelming desire to visit Switzerland, but, less than an hour after landing, I’d concluded that I never wanted to leave. Blankets of snow covered the mountaintops, a stark contrast to the city we had just passed through. In a matter of minutes, we had gone from bustling streets with locals and tourists to bright green countryside without a soul in sight. Each small mountainside village looked more beautiful than the next, like something on the cover of a travel magazine. I’d never seen so many shades of blue.

  Even though we hadn’t even arrived at the resort yet, just seeing Ryan’s wide eyes filled with awe made everything worth it. The late-night taxi drives, the odd jobs, clipping coupons just to stay in the grocery budget—it had all led to this moment, to this trip. There was no way I’d ever be able to repay Jenny for her generosity, but I at least took some solace in knowing that the trip would’ve gone to waste had I not accepted it. She’d reassured me enough times in the past twenty-four hours that I was the one doing her a favor that the guilt was slowly subsiding.

  Instead, a bundle of nerves sat heavy in my stomach as I thought back to the one concern Jenny had had: the name on the hotel reservation. Once we made it past that point, we were home free.

  Until then, I fully expected the knot in my stomach to remain heavy. What if simply telling them my name was Jenny wasn’t enough? What if they asked to see my ID? The thought of having flown halfway across the world for nothing was enough to keep me from fully enjoying the scenic train ride that most people only ever dreamed about experiencing.

  As Ryan snapped away with my phone, I tried to come up with the words to explain the situation to him. Though he knew that Jenny had played a role in making this trip happen, he had no idea of the extent of that role. There wasn’t exactly an easy way—or any way—to say to your ten-year-old son, “My friend had a trip planned that she couldn’t use, and she thought of us because she knows I never have spare money to take trips.”

  I had to approach this lightly. “Ry, we need to have an important, grown-up discussion before we get to the hotel.”

  Ryan looked up at me, his blue eyes illuminated by the sunlight that reflected off the glass. “Am I in trouble?”

  “No, silly.” I drew in a breath, trying to decide how to best frame the words so that they made sense. “It’s just that, well, we’re going to have to play a bit of pretend when we get to the hotel.”

  “Pretend?” Ryan asked.

  “Sort of,” I said. “You know how I told you that Aunt Jenny helped us so we could go on vacation?”

  Ryan nodded.

  “Well, when we get to the hotel, they only have the room in her name, so we’re going to pretend that I’m her.”

  A giggle escaped Ryan’s mouth. “But you don’t look anything like her.”

  “They’ve never seen her before.”

  “Are you going to be pretending to be Aunt Jenny the whole trip?” he replied.

  “It’s just when we check in at the hotel. Just for two minutes.” I scooched closer to him and lowered my voice. “You have a very important job—to act normal. When I tell them my name is Jenny, you can’t tell them my name is Tia. Until we have our hotel room, my name is Jenny. Got it?”

  “Got it.” Ryan smiled, clearly pleased with himself. Slowly, his smile turned into a frown.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  Before I had a chance to give the usual speech about how we’d be able to get food soon, a deep voice with a thick accent cut in.

  “Well, then I’m just in time.” We both looked up to see a man pushing a cart of trays filled with food. “What’ll it be? Meat, fish, or vegetarian?”

  “Meat, please,” Ryan said, and I nodded.

  The waiter handed us each a tray and waited until we’d placed it down on the small table before asking us what we wanted to drink. Ryan was thrilled that they had orange soda for him, and I wasn’t one to turn down complimentary wine when offered.

  Having never been on anything other than a dirty subway train, I hadn’t known what to expect of the train ride to the resort. When Jenny had told me about the train reservations, I’d just been happy to know that we had some sort of transportation to get up to the mountains. This train was something from another world.

  “Mom, you didn’t tell me they serve lunch,” Ryan exclaimed as if he’d won the lottery and not just a likely mediocre train meal. “This is awesome!”

  “It was a surprise.”

  “Yeah right.”

  We ate in silence, both of us with some sort of minced meat with pasta and a side of carrots, a lunch that turned out to be quite tasty.

  Everything in Switzerland thus far had surpassed my expectations, even things as simple as the airport shops and cushioned train seats. I couldn’t be sure, but I was fairly certain that, like my enthusiastic son, I hadn’t stopped smiling since we’d left West Virginia.

  If this was what a train in Switzerland was like—cozy, comfortable, with delicious food—I couldn’t even begin to imagine what awaited us at the resort.

  Chapter 3

  Tia

  No pictures online or descriptions from Jenny could ever have fully prepared me for my first glimpse of the resort, which looked more like a group of palaces than any hotel I’d ever seen. The snow that had seemed so far away from the train was now beneath our feet, like soft pillows that left marks as we walked.

  Even Ryan was speechless, which was quite an accomplishment. Coming from a fairly plain-Jane town definitely made us appreciate this beauty even more.

  When Jenny had told me we were staying at a ski resort, I’d expected something far more rustic, closer to the log cabins with old, wooden floors I’d stayed in on the occasional lake trip when I was a kid. From what I could see, this resort had nothing in common with those forest cabins. It was a small village all on its own, with one giant hotel building in the center, surrounded by some smaller private bungalows, which I surmised were for the richest of guests.

  “Let’s go,” Ryan said, tugging at my arm. “I want to see the inside!”

  I drew in a breath. “Okay, but remember the plan. I’m not Tia Birchfield for the next few minutes. I’m Jenny Miller.”

  “Who am I, then?”

  “Ryan Miller. How’s that?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Works for me.”

  My son was intelligent. I had no doubt that he’d play along, especially now that, in his mind, he had an official role. It was showtime.

  I reached for my suitcase on the ground and was quickly stopped by a man in a resort staff uniform. “Please, ma’am, allow me,” he said. He picked up my bag with one hand, quite the feat given all of the shoes and clothes I’d packed, and took Ryan’s blue suitcase with the other.

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, miss.”

  We followed him through the ornate front doors of the hotel to the lobby, where hordes of well-dressed, wealthy-looking people were grouped together, engaging in conversation. It felt like a scene from a middle school cafeteria, where the new girl walks in and doesn’t know a soul, but, though I felt more than a smidge out of place, I was so excited to see our room th
at I didn’t let it bother me.

  After reassuring the bellhop half a dozen times that Ryan and I were fine to check in and carry our bags to our room ourselves, he left us alone with a reminder to call him over if we needed anything.

  “Follow me,” I said to Ryan, feeling guilty about involving him in this deception, no matter how small of a deal it was in the grand scheme of things.

  I walked to the front desk with a look of determination—determination to check in without getting caught, and determination to look like I at least somewhat belonged here. Luckily, Ryan seemed to be oblivious to the fact that we probably didn’t have a fraction of the net worth of some of these people. He was just happy to be here.

  “Welcome,” a middle-aged man said from behind the front desk. “How can I help you?”

  I spoke smoothly and carefully. “My name is Jennifer Miller,” I said. “I have a reservation.”

  The man asked me to wait a moment while he checked the reservation system on his computer. Though it couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds or a minute, it felt like an eternity. This was the last hurdle before we could sit back and relax for the rest of the trip.

  I looked down at Ryan, who had his lips pressed together as if he might accidentally say something wrong if he opened them. I gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

  The printer beside the front desk clerk hissed and spat out a paper, which the clerk promptly handed over to me. “Here we go, Miss Miller. One adult and one child, prepaid for three nights. Sign here, please.”

  I couldn’t decide if the man was being efficient or abrupt, but it didn’t really matter. I reached for the pen and signed my name.

  Wait. That really was my name. I was so used to signing my own name that I had done so, as if on autopilot. I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid.

  Desperate, I tried to think of a plausible explanation.

  Before I could come up with anything, the desk agent said, “Ma’am, could I please see some identification?”

  “Identification?” My voice was shaky.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said sternly.

  I was done for. I could see it in his eyes. He was going to start with me, right here in the middle of the lobby, and he was going to deny my reservation the second he saw that my ID said Tia Birchfield. There was nothing I could do now. At least I’d tried.

  The loud clearing of a throat behind me caught my attention, and I twirled around to see a man standing just a few feet from me, surrounded by luggage. He might have been the most handsome man I’d ever seen, with dark, thick hair, a chiseled jaw and bright blue eyes that caught my attention. Unfortunately, he also appeared to be more than just a little entitled, clearly annoyed by the prospect of having to wait behind me to check in.

  I didn’t know enough about brand names to be sure, but the man, who was clearly rich, was wearing an impeccable suit that likely cost as much as my car. He just had that aura about him, that he was wealthy and he knew it, and he wanted others to know it.

  Suddenly I remembered that I was seconds away from having my cover blown.

  “Sir,” I started. “I’m sure there’s—”

  “Take your key! Here. Go!”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “Your key, Miss Miller.” The man handed me the key and brushed me off like we hadn’t been in the middle of a conversation.

  I probably should have just been grateful that I was off the hook, but I was baffled. He’d done a complete 180-degree switch like it was nothing, but at least it had worked out in my favor. The wealthy man behind me must have been one of their VIPs here, far more important than myself, an American who was simply taking a long weekend.

  “Thank you—”

  “Enjoy your stay.”

  His voice could not have sounded more insincere if he tried, but I didn’t mind. Our mission was accomplished.

  Not wanting to give the man a chance to ask more questions, I grabbed Ryan’s hand and pulled him to the elevator as fast as I could.

  “What was that?” Ryan asked as I pressed the button for our floor.

  “Our saving grace,” I said.

  The elevator doors began to close, and I peeked my head out for one last look at the handsome stranger who’d been the perfect distraction at the perfect time. He was cocky and conceited—he had to be, judging by the desk clerk’s reaction to him—but I couldn’t help but be taken in by his good looks. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine.

  For the first time, I noticed a little girl standing beside him. Her hair was tied up into a neat ponytail, and she couldn’t have been more than a year younger than Ryan.

  Part of me wondered who they were, and why this man was important enough that the front desk clerk had written me off so easily. The other part of me didn’t care. Jenny’s plan had worked, and I was about to spend the next three days soaking up every spare minute with my son.

  The hallways were adorned with intricate chandeliers and carpet that looked brand new. On the carpets was a design with gold swirls and diamonds, and Ryan hopped from one swirl to the next, trying to avoid the red background carpet as if it was lava.

  Finally, we reached the door labeled 319.

  “Can I open it?” Ryan asked.

  “Be my guest.”

  I handed him the room key and took a step back, ready to be enveloped by an atmosphere of luxury and relaxation. Really, it could have been a simple, bare-bones hotel room and that still would’ve been fine with me, but I had to admit that I was excited about living completely outside of my normal means for a long weekend.

  Ryan swung the door open and let out an audible “wow” as he walked inside.

  To my surprise, there was a bed in the main room plus a separate bedroom with a king-sized bed. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d slept in a king bed. Not only was this bed a nice upgrade from my double bed at home, but it was all mine. I’d anticipated having to share a bed with Ryan and, though sharing a bed with my son would not have been a problem in the slightest, I was excited at the prospect of being able to sprawl out.

  I looked at Ryan to gauge his reaction.

  “This is so cool!” he exclaimed, throwing his suitcase on the queen-sized bed in the main room. “My own bed. And it’s giant!”

  Every new aspect of this trip was better than the last, and it was only day one. Beside Ryan’s bed was a sitting area, complete with a large, flat-screen TV and sofa. I was fairly certain Ryan was going to jump out of his own skin when he realized there was a video game console hooked up to the TV. And it wasn’t just any console. It was the newest, greatest console, one I likely wouldn’t be able to afford to buy him for a few more years until the price dropped.

  I’d never be able to repay Jenny for this. The pure joy on Ryan’s face made me feel the most at ease that I’d felt in a long time.

  “What do you say we unpack a little bit then go explore the hotel?” I asked.

  With a running start, Ryan jumped up on his bed and spun around. “Let’s do it. Do you think there’s an arcade here?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe. There’s only one way to find out!”

  I gazed around the hotel room, far larger than I’d expected it to be, trying to soak up every angle. When washing my face in the bathroom, I noticed for the first time that there was both a shower and a jetted tub. The prospect of a nice, warm bath was too nice to pass up, and I made a mental note to set aside time to take a bubble bath at some point.

  As silly as it sounded, I could’ve stayed in this hotel room for the entire trip and been completely content. Of course, Ryan would never go for that, and I did want to try my hand at skiing.

  I went into the bedroom and unzipped my suitcase, still exhilarated from evading the curious front desk attendant. The universe had definitely been on our side back there. And that man. Whoever he was, he’d saved the day. I wondered if I’d see him again.

  I took my clothes out of my suitcase one by one, knowi
ng that, even though I’d brought the nicest clothes I owned, they’d pale in comparison to the expensive clothing all of the other resort guests would be wearing. I told myself over and over again that I had just as much of a right to be here as they did, and that I had nothing to be ashamed of. I wasn’t sure if I believed it, but it didn’t matter, because I had a wonderful ten-year-old son who didn’t notice things like price tags and brand names.

  Still, I knew I’d feel better after I got the lay of the land. Ryan called to me through the bedroom door, and I told him I’d be ready in five minutes. As I hung up my clothing in the hotel room closet, I found that all I could think about was the handsome stranger who’d saved the day, my accidental savior who’d never even know I existed.

  Chapter 4

  Maxim

  “Thank you, Pierre. That will be all.”

  I slipped the bellboy fifty francs and wished him a good day as I closed the door behind him. It was good to be back. No matter where I traveled in the world—Milan, Prague, Hong Kong—one of my favorite places would always be this resort, in the private cabin I’d grown so accustomed to.

  “Lucie, sweetheart, what would you like to do tonight?” I called toward the back of the cabin. “Can you come out here, please?”

  “Coming!”

  I was surprised to find Lucie’s lips coated in pink lipstick, and her freckled cheeks covered in some sort of blush. With makeup on her face, she looked two or three years older than her nine years, and I wasn’t ready for that.

  “Do you like it?” she asked.

  “You don’t need makeup, sweetheart. You’re already the prettiest girl I know.” I kept my voice even so as not to upset her. “Is this what they’re teaching you at school?”

  Lucie let out a laugh. “You know they don’t allow makeup in the dormitories,” she replied matter-of-factly. “One of the nannies bought me the makeup as a present.”