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TANYA HAD ALWAYS ENJOYED visiting Jack’s father’s construction office when they were kids. The former mining shack had been crammed with interesting bits of wood, rusting metal implements, old calendars and black-and-white photographs of Crested Butte’s past. Everything was dusty and disorganized, and she’d always felt free to explore and enjoy herself.
Jack’s new office was as different from his dad’s old place as an old miners’ cabin was from a shiny new condo. The glass, stone and rustic wood siding mimicked a ski resort chalet, and fine art and expensive furniture filled the elegant lobby.
“Don’t touch anything,” she ordered Annie.
“I won’t.” Annie clasped her hands in front of her and stared, wide-eyed, at a life-size sculpture of a mountain lion.
“Hello!”
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