Chapter 3

I returned to my home the following day and plunged completely into my work, putting my thoughts a and concerns of these obsessed women in the back of my mind. I just could not concentrate on anything if I allowed them space in my everyday thoughts. The results, at least for my company, were dramatic as the profits on the product line that I managed more than doubled the previous year. The frantic pace continued for months, and my availability for seminars and conferences declined.

Without a family to worry about, I was travelling constantly, promoting our product to new customers, negotiating deals, and generally being more successful than I had ever been. Apparently, the strain on my body was evident to the management of my division. In a surprise visit to my office one afternoon, the Executive Vice President of the corporation stuck his head in the door and asked if I had a few minutes for him. He was the number two guy in the entire corporation--of course I had time for him.

"Win, you've been doing a helluva job this past year or so."

"Thank you, sir. It has been a whirlwind, but our group has done well."

"Yes it has, but it appears to have taken a pretty stiff toll on you personally."

"What do you mean?"

"I can see the signs of stress and exhaustion in your face. You have lines in your forehead that you never had before, your face is taut, and you're running around here at a hundred miles an hour."

I wiped my forehead, as if that would make the lines go away.

He continued, "We want to be proactive with you. We don't want you to have a heart attack or stroke or even worse, and the way you are going, that's what's going to happen."

"I'm fine. Really I am," I replied, suddenly concerned that something bad was about to come from this meeting.

"So I talked to the "big guy", and we agreed that we need to do something for you."

"Okay," I said, somewhat cautiously, having no idea what they had in mind.

"We know that you love to ski. We're going to send you to Colorado, put you up in a gorgeous chalet, and let you ski to your hearts content for the next three or four weeks. All expenses will be paid by the company, and everything will be first class. There is only one condition that you must agree to."

"What's that?"

"You must agree to leave your cell phone, laptop and anything else involving work here in your office, and must promise not to call in or fax or do anything at all involving your work while you are there. We want you to relax, and you won't do that if you are in constant communication here."

"But who is going..."

He interrupted me," Your product line will run like a top. You have capable people beneath you to handle any emergency that may arise, but since you have been responsible for this product line, there haven't been any, so we are not too worried about that."

"I don't know what to say."

"Well, will you agree to our conditions?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you very much. This is quite a surprise. And truly, I am deeply honored that people care about me so much."

"Of course we care about you, and we want you to be around for a long time to come. Now, take the rest of the week to clean up any loose ends, because your flight leaves at eight o'clock Saturday morning."

He wasn't kidding about the first class treatment, either. A car took me to the airport, but instead of the normal terminal, we went to the private aviation entrance. Waiting for me there was an executive jet that whisked me directly to the small airport nearest the slope. Another car was there waiting to take me to my chalet. The chalet was in a group of similar buildings, all with direct access to the hills and shops, and within walking distance of the immediate village below. Each unit was actually a duplex, with three bedrooms, a private patio area with a hot tub, and all the amenities a person could want inside as well. I have been in many, many ski areas in my life, but I have never encountered one quite as opulent as this one.

I spent my days on the slopes, working up to the black diamond level, and my evenings in the lodge surrounded by the other occupants of this chalet group. There was a constant mix of young and old, but all had to be reasonably affluent because the accommodations were not cheap.

It was on the fourth day that I met her. She had fallen and lost one of her skis and was having a bit of a time trying to free herself gracefully from her entanglement in some bushes that were inconveniently located in her path. I saw her just as she fell, some ten seconds or so ahead of me on the slope and I immediately went to her aid. After untangling her from the vines and assuring that she was not injured, I tracked down her errant ski and returned to her side. By leaning against me, and holding on with one hand, she was able to step back into her skis and continue down the slope. I suggested that she take a little break and join me for a warm drink in the lodge, and she readily agreed.

"I'm Win Young," I said, introducing myself, "and I am very glad that you were not hurt in that fall."

"Hello Mr. Young. My name is Sarah James. And I want to thank you for coming to my aid. I am embarrassed at how clumsy I must have appeared. I really am a much better skier, but my left binding came loose and I was trying desperately to reconnect it when I realized the shrubs and I were going to become acquainted. Thank you, so very much."

"There is no need to be embarrassed. Your fall was quite graceful actually. And besides, it's not like you are the first to ever fall while skiing."

We sat by the fireplace, drinking hit chocolate and telling stories of our own ski adventures and misadventures. As we warmed up from the fire, she removed her parka and sticking cap. I stopped talking in mid sentence. Have no idea what I was even saying, something trivial I'm sure. From her cap fell shoulder length hair the color of chestnuts. As she shook it free, it revealed her face, which for some reason, had been partially covered by her hat and neck warmer. I looked at her and I was almost frozen in my place. I have never, ever seen such a beautiful woman before. I have encountered thousands of gorgeous women, and bedded several hundred of them, I'm sure, but the best of them could not compare to this woman's beauty. I was completely stunned. I did not want to appear to this woman to be a complete babbling idiot, so instinctively decided that a clumsy accident was appropriate. I reached for my hot chocolate and bumped the cup with my hand, sending cocoa spilling harmlessly across the end table between us. At least that maneuver gave me time to collect my thoughts and act civilly with her.

Immediately, a hostess was by our side, cleaning up my spill while another was refreshing our drinks. It was that kind of place. Sarah and I chatted for hours. She was very easy to talk to (and look at) and quite accomplished at getting me to tell her the story of my life. When I got to the part about the year after college, she sat forward a little when I talked about spending the summer in France. I didn't dwell on the evening adventures, but mostly commented about the beauty of the countryside and the graciousness of the people that I had encountered there. I invited her to join me for dinner, but she declined, stating that she had a previous engagement. She did ask for a rain check, though.

I didn't see her again until mid afternoon Saturday. She was waiting for the lift, and we shared a gondola up to the top. I offered to ski a less difficult slope with her, but she insisted that the Black Diamond was fine with her. She was correct about that. She was a very accomplished skier, certainly more agile than I am and unafraid of attacking the hill directly. We skied together for the rest of the day and then adjourned to the lodge for the après-ski events. I was finding myself feeling attracted to her as a person, instead of a bed partner. For the first time in my memory, I was actually interested in a woman for her own self. That was a very strange feeling for me, and a completely new position for me to be in.

We never really talked much about her job, or what she did for an income. The answer, no matter how I asked the question, was always that she was involved, somehow, as a mid level manager in a clothing store. She said that her father owned this clothing business and had just opened another store and that she was flitting between them constantly. She did tell me about how, as a child, she had two playmates who had become like sisters to her through the years and how each of them were inseparable from the others today. When I asked why they were not here with her, she said that it was the one thing that she did in life that they really did not enjoy, and thus, she found herself always having to ski alone. She graciously told me how much she enjoyed my company both on and off the slopes. At some point, we adjourned to one of the local restaurants for dinner, and spent the balance of the evening continuing to get to know each other. Later, I walked with her to her chalet, and for the first time in many years, was not invited in for a nightcap.

She was not on the slopes at all on Sunday, but I found her in the warming cabin at the top of the hill on Monday. Again, we spent the day skiing until we were too tired to move. She opted for an afternoon break but committed for dinner later. I was beginning to lose my way here. She had this effect on me, whenever we were together that made me feel that the only thing that was important was being with her. Our conversations became a little more serious, and then gradually, as the week went on, even more serious. She spoke of wanting to start a family sometime, and of where she might like to live and raise her children. I told her that my current home was in the east and while I enjoyed living there as a bachelor, I didn't think it was all that great a place to raise a family.

She followed that with a brief quip, "Perhaps, Win, you should consider raising your family in France. You seemed to have enjoyed that more than any other place in the world that you have mentioned."

"Yes. Well, one has to have gainful employment, and there aren't many steel companies in France and there certainly aren't any capable of producing the products for which I am responsible. I 'd like to believe it is possible to live on love alone, but I can't convince the local grocer of that idea when I do my shopping. He still needs his money. But beyond that, it would be a great place to raise a family."