“Don’t answer that,” warned Brandon as muffled banjos rang out from Travis’ coat pocket.
Travis ignored him and checked the caller ID. “It’s work. I have to answer it.”
“Even more reason not to answer.”
“Abernathy.”
Brandon rolled his eyes and headed for the refreshment pavilion. If he was going to have to wait while Travis talked whoever through whatever, he was going to do it with coffee. Standing at the back of the line, he scanned the slopes. It was a beautiful day, perfect weather, fresh powder. And, being a weekday, the mountain wouldn’t be over-crowded.
Travis had stopped halfway from the parking lot. He was pacing a short loop, his free hand scooping irritably through his hair. The expression on his face didn’t bode well.
I should never have let him have the phone bac
