Designing Paradise

Collision Course: The Unexpected Turn

"God, just look at the place! The brochure is breathtaking, so sexy and cozy; don't you think, Jillian?" My twin sister's voice crackles through the phone, her excitement palpable even from miles away.

I grip the steering wheel of my rental, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Jocelyn can't see my exasperation, thankfully. This is easily the tenth time she's brought up the brochure for the rustic luxury resort I'm heading to, turning her fascination into a running joke.

‘Who’s on first? What's on second...’

"Yes, Jocelyn, I've seen it," I reply, my tone laced with mild annoyance. "That's why I picked it for my getaway. It's the ideal romantic hideaway, luxury oasis, log cabin, private hot tubs, and crackling fireplaces, boasting all the lavish amenities one could dream of. A secluded treasure nestled in the heart of the Colorado Rocky Mountains, specifically designed for you and that special someone," I mock the pamphlet in a dramatic voice, eliciting a laugh from my sister.

But beneath the banter, my thoughts linger on that last phrase. I'm far from home and even farther from finding that 'special someone.' The repetitive cycle of dating wears me down. Despite my friends' well-meaning attempts to set me up or suggest dating sites, I remain single. I've become the perpetual bridesmaid, never the radiant bride. "Aunt Jilly" to eight wonderful children, I've embraced this role while secretly yearning for a love of my own.

"Now, with our younger sister Jami on the verge of getting married, I'm certain she'll add to my expanding group of nieces and nephews. The need to escape career and family pressures to help with wedding planning is increasingly hard to ignore. Taking a break from the path my life is on, at the age of twenty-eight, seems like the ideal solution to my current situation—until I have to dive into another work task.

An email request from an old college cohort and past colleague landed in my inbox two weeks ago, asking for my expertise to give this resort a fresh face. I delegated scheduling a meeting with the resort's owner to my assistant, Gina, ensuring it would coincide with my visit.

"I swear, Jilly, it's about time you take a break. Continual work without a dose of fun will turn you into a love-starved shrew. You need to get out there, mingle, maybe even have a steamy fling," my sister prods.

I sigh at her persistence. "I've heard this all before, Joce. I'm capable of both work and leisure. It's called 'multitasking.'"

"For heaven's sake, are you going to this resort to unwind or to work!?" she exclaims, a note of frustration slipping into her tone.

"A bit of both..." I admit, wincing as her voice reaches a higher pitch.

"You can't be serious right now! You told me you needed a retreat to clear your head. This weekend should be about you enjoying a little romance on the snowy slopes, not working."

"I'm not here to ski, Jocelyn. Maybe a soak in the hot tub, a spa treatment—those I can manage."

"And perhaps finding a handsome stranger to sweep you off your feet and—"

"Jocelyn—"

"What!? You're stunning, Jilly. And I should know—we're mirror images of each other. You could easily find someone for a brief romantic encounter while you're there."

"I'm not just here to 'fling,' Joce. There's work to be done as well."

"Look, we all know you're an exceptional interior designer. Your portfolio is teeming with stunning projects you've executed to perfection. You're successful, with a beautiful home in Cali and a fancy car to your name. The only thing absent is a handsome man to share your life with, right?" Jocelyn presses.

"Okay, Jocelyn, I get it! You sound like Mom, for goodness sake!"

"Fine, you're so stubborn."

Who knows what she's planning, but I don't have the time or energy to ponder over it. I wrack my brain for an excuse to get Jocelyn off the line. I really ought to check in with my assistant and update her on my proximity to the resort for my morning meeting. But Jocelyn is back on her verbal roll before I can respond.

"Jilly, are you sure you don't want me to tag along? We could turn it into a girl's retreat. We can rope in Jami, too, recreating those nights growing up when we'd gossip till dawn. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Although I appreciate my sisters' good intentions, what I really need right now is solitude. I need a calm space to mentally prepare for the upcoming project. Fortunately, my twin's intuition kicks in before I have to dampen her spirits with a refusal. "I'm assuming from your silence that's a 'no'," she interjects.

"We can plan something like that before Jami's wedding in a few months. For now, I just want to concentrate on this proj—"

"Jillian!" she admonishes.

"I mean... I want to rest! You know what I'm trying to say!"

"Mm-hmm," she hums in half-hearted agreement.

"Could you please hang up now? I need to call Gina before I reach the resort."

"You better call your assistant to secure your reservation and not discuss any work, sister. Reach out when you get there. Love you!" Before I could issue my comeback, she ends the call.

Driving through Colorado, I'm only a couple of hours from where I grew up in Denver. Man, I've missed this place. Trading it for the Cali sun was part of chasing my big dreams. And now, I'm back, but not just for a family visit. Nope, I've got a killer project at the resort here. Cruising along, it’s kind of a mental prep ritual for me—road trip before the big job. A red light makes me pause, and I can't resist grabbing that flashy brochure Jocelyn won't shut up about. Giving it a quick once-over, I'm already getting ideas. This is gonna be fun.

That's when the piercing sound of a horn startles me. Looking in my rearview mirror, I see a man behind me in a sizable pickup truck, tapping impatiently on his steering wheel. The light turned green while I was engrossed in the brochure. I offer a quick, apologetic wave and proceed across the intersection. Just as I enter, the light switches to yellow. The last thing I remember before chaos ensues is the shrill sound of a horn.

The sickening crunch of metal against metal fills the air as oncoming traffic collides with my car. I scream, instinctively raising my arm to shield my face from the shattering glass.