Page 25 of Cold and Bitter Snow

Maybe he had somewhere important to be.

At seven in the morning? The man works nights.

And regardless, what kind of man leaves without even writing a note?

She brushed her hair furiously, getting angrier with every passing minute. If the tables had been turned, she wouldn’t have left his place without at least telling him.

She was still angry when she got to her office on the third floor of the town hall building, which also housed the post office on the ground floor. Montgomery was nowhere to be found, which meant he was at his office on the pistes. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was just her and Laurent there.

“Good morning, Laurent,” she said.

The man looked at her shrewdly. “Got off on the wrong side of the bed, Siena? That’s what you English would say, right?”

“Why do you say that? Everything’s fine,” she said, shaking her head. “Everything’s absolutely fine.” She took a sip of the to-go cup of tea she’d brought from the hotel. In the few minutes it’d taken her to get here it’d gotten cold. She put the mug down—she hated cold tea.

She opened up her laptop with a lot more force than absolutely necessary.

Laurent stared at the window which provided a view of the street and the queue to the gondola lift.

“How about you? Are you okay, Laurent?”

“Me?” the man asked distractedly, running a hand through his stiff blonde hair and only succeeding in messing it further. “I’m fine, absolutely fine,” he echoed.

“Why do you keep staring out the window?”

“I … uh …” the man stammered. Just then, a loud noise came from the street. A convoy of six black Porsche Cayennes arrived, blocking the entire road.

“What’s that about?” she said, picking up the mug and taking another sip. She wrinkled her nose and put it back down, moving it beyond her reach.

As they watched, three large dark-skinned men wearing suits got out of the first SUV and strolled confidently towards the second SUV in line. At least, they began their walk confidently. Moments later all three of them were sliding comically and holding on to the vehicle for dear life. Siena’s eyes went down to their dress shoes.

“Those are not great shoes for this terrain.”

Laurent Perrier grumbled something unintelligible.

Finally, the first man reached the door of the second car. He jerked it open, standing aside. A tiny figure dressed in white furs and pristine white snow boots emerged regally from the vehicle.

“Is that the Saudi princess?” Siena asked, finally putting two and two together.

“Who else,” Laurent grumbled.

The young woman looked around her before taking another step. She seemed very aware of the fact that life had stopped around her—everybody was watching her. For an instant, her gaze roamed the office where Siena and Laurent were standing. What struck Siena the most wasn’t how young or beautiful the princess was, though she was both of those things, but rather how sad she looked.

The princess raised her right hand and, suddenly, all the other vehicles came to life. Doors opened and dozens of attendants pushed out of the cars, all of them rushing to fulfill their apparently pre-assigned roles.

Marion, the office executive assistant, appeared behind them. She was a tall woman, enough so that she could easily look beyond Laurent and Siena’s shoulders.

“She’s early,” Marion said excitedly. “Wait until Monsieur Montgomery finds out.”

“Call him, please, Marion,” Laurent said, shaking his head. He pulled out an alka seltzer out of his pocket and dropped it distractedly in a glass.

“Um, that doesn’t look like water,” Siena said, trying to be helpful.

Laurent waved his hand.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she agreed uncertainly, trying to figure out what the liquid in the glass was.

They stood there for a few minutes, watching the hustle and bustle down below. Three cars and a bus were piling up behind the Porsche Cayenne convoy. So far, nobody was even honking.