Quick note: 'ma blonde' is a Quebecois expression for 'my girlfriend' (I've been assured). That's all you need to know right now.

Jennie hit the slopes early in the morning, before Lisa woke up.

Her plan wasn't working. Every time she and Lisa connected, whether over maple syrup or hot chocolate, she wanted her more. Not less.

She could still control it, though. She kept telling herself that. She just needed to keep trying.

And to get some decent exercise – hence the skiing. Two hours of doing the hardest runs, and she was sweaty, tired, and happy with herself. It was focusing, and liberating. As she trooped back to the lodge, skis over one shoulder, she made a note to get herself a pass for next year.

"Jennie!" She was pulled out of her thoughts by Lisa's joyful shout, followed by those of the children. Looking up, she saw Lisa, Gigi and another of the children – was it Emmanuel? - building snow forts. "We saw you skiing," Lisa said as she packed on a handful on snow.

"You're amazing."

Jennie's ears grew warm under her hat. "Thank you," she said, looking down at her feet. She hoped they hadn't been watching for a long time. She had taken a few runs to warm up. Lisa didn't notice Jennie's embarrassment. "Gigi's been teaching me some French!" she said.

"Oh?" Jennie asked. She brushed at the snow on her skis. She didn't like the way Emmanuel was giggling into his hand or Gigi's impish smile.

"Here, let me try... C'est ma blonde." she said in halting, horribly pronounced French. She was pointing at Jennie. "Right, Gigi?"

The children erupted into laughter. Jennie felt her face turn red. They were actually trying to make her and Lisa be... together. Next they would probably start singing "Lisa and Jennie sitting in a tree."

Lisa looks confused. "I said it right, didn't I?"

Jennie pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath before asking, "what do you think you just said?"

"That I’m blonde."

"Gigi, you better go find your Papa," Jennie said, staring down the little girl. Gigi giggled into her hand.

"Why?"

She bent down so her face was on level with the little girl's. She put on her best glower, trying to let her know with a look that she was not amused. "Because you don't want me to go find him first, compris?"

Gigi giggled again. "Allez, Emmanuel," she said, turning to her brother. "Je pense nous l'avons énervée."

They ran off, laughing like little manic demons.

"So what did I say?" Lisa asked, standing up and brushing snow off of her coat. She was looking between Jennie and the retreating children.

"Never mind," Jennie said quickly. She started heading back toward the hotel, walking quickly so that Lisa was left behind. "We have to get ready for the meeting."

"But what did I say?" Lisa called after her.

Jennie jogged faster and pretended not to hear.

The hotel was beautiful – there was no denying that. The main building was over a hundred years old, giving it an authentic feel. The surrounding grounds were a wonder, with preserved ruins of old farm buildings. It was perfect in every way.

Except when you wanted to change something and the Sociétè Historique got all up in arms about it. Olsen had been fighting with them for months about the planned renovations to the grand ballroom to no effect. It was this that prompted Jennie to come to Quebec herself.

"This is amazing," Lisa gasped as they entered the ballroom. She pushed through the door and ran out into the middle of the floor, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling and the columns that surrounded the room. Jennie smiled to herself. Lisa was so easily impressed. It was... refreshing.

"Actually, this isn't all that impressive as ballrooms go," Jennie pointed out, closing the door behind her and coming out into the room. "It was renovated last in 1973 and the decor is definitely dated by now. You should see the plans that Olsen had drafted. They're – Lisa, what are you doing?"

Lisa was twirling on the spot, dancing to imaginary music. She bowed to an invisible partner.

"Why, yes, Sir. I would love to waltz!" she said, before continuing her twirling.

"That is not how you waltz," Jennie told her, at a loss for anything else to say.

Lisa stopped mid twirl, hands held up in a pretend embrace, keen interest alighting her eyes.

"Are you saying you know how?"

"I took dancing lessons," Jennie admitted. "My father wanted me to know the basics of ballroom for formal events."

Lisa skipped over. She held out a hand and gave an awkward bow.

"Would you be so kind as to give me this dance, m'lady?"

Jennie didn't move.

"Come on, Jennie, I want to see you dance."

There was no way she could say no. Lisa was peering up at her through her long, thick lashes, her hand waiting expectantly for Jennie's.

She reached out and took Lisa's hand. Lisa's dazzling smile was her immediate reward. She pulled Lisa upright and placed her hand on her shoulder. Jennie grasped the other hand in her own, holding it high.

"Look at my feet, and follow them," she instructed. She stepped her right foot back and Lisa followed with her left. Pleased that she was catching on so quickly, Jennie led her in a circle around the room.

Jennie felt a bit ridiculous, dancing with no music. She hadn't liked dancing all that much to begin with. But Lisa watched her feet closely and, once she had the rhythm, actually began to hum a tune. It wasn't a waltz – it wasn't even the right meter, but Jennie felt herself relax and begin to dance to the song. It felt familiar.

Lisa's eyes closed as they danced, going back into her own world. She was wearing her usual business attire – a simple skirt and blouse, with her hair up in a messy bun, but looking at her like this Jennie was lost in how beautiful she was. She could be a princess from a fairytale or a model in a magazine.

"Whoops!" Lisa stumbled suddenly, teetering on her heels. Her hands slipped from Jennie's. Jennie grabbed for her without thinking. Her arms caught Lisa's waist, and she pulled her close to her so that her arms were wrapped tightly around her, holding her upright.

They were so close together, and touching. It just kept on happening, Jennie thought.

Lisa giggled. "I'm hopeless, aren't I?" Her arms were resting loosely against Jennie's shoulders.

She grinned sheepishly at Jennie.

It was time to panic and run away. Stop touching Lisa. That's what she was supposed to do in these situations, wasn't it?

But what if she didn't want to? She gave a small smile. "I really don't believe that you played soccer."

It would be really easy to lean in and kiss Lisa. She was inches away, held in her arms.

It was what Jennie wanted to do.

"This is the ballroom in question. Ah, and Ms. Jennie is already here, ya. We can start our meeting right away."

Jennie let go of Lisa, jumping back as quickly as she could. Lisa took a step back, too. She pushed her hair back behind her ears and quickly went to grab the file from its discarded position on the floor. Jennie stood still. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might crack her ribs.

What was I thinking?

There was no time to figure that out. Olsen had entered the room with Andre and a very serious looking woman, closely followed by a mousey man who was clearly her personal assistant.

"Ms. Kim," the woman said curtly, offering a hand. Jennie took it. The woman's hand was clammy and she gave a single, hard, shake before dropping Jennie's hand like a hot coal. "I am Madame Durand from the Sociétè Historique."

Jennie took a deep breath. Now was the time she had to do this right. She took the folder with the reports and her own notes from Lisa.

"I understand that the Sociétè Historique has some concerns that I'd like to address," Jennie said, opening the folder in her hands.

"Yes, we do," the woman said. "Are you aware that this is classified as a historical site by the Quebec government?"

"Yes, of course-"

"And that, as such it is protected from defamation and destruction by the Quebec government-"

Jennie was starting to see why Olsen hadn't gotten anywhere with this woman. She crossed her arms. "I am well aware, now if you'll just let me-"

"I'm not going to have some anglophone come in and destroy pieces of our history-"

"This ballroom was built in the ninteen-seventies," Jennie snapped. Her temper was getting away from her, but she couldn't help it. "Unless there was a great French-Canadian disco that I am not aware of-"

"If I can make a suggestion?" Lisa piped up, cutting Jennie off. All of them turned to look at her.

She blushed but stood up a little taller. "It is nearly lunch time. I think if we moved our meeting to the dining room, after a short break, we might have better success at coming to an agreement."

Olsen, behind Madam Durand, looked relieved. "André is making an excellent soup, ya? And there is a good view from the dining room."

Madam Durand frowned, looked around at everyone, then nodded. "Good idea." She said.

Olsen immediately offered to show her the way.

The moment Durand had her back turned, Lisa grabbed Jennie's elbow. "Come over here," she said in a low voice, dragging her off to the side of the room. There were a number of alcoves with padded benches lining the room. She put Jennie in one and sat next to her.

"What are you doing?" Jennie asked in a whisper, glancing at the door. It was swinging shut behind them now.

"You're getting flustered by her," Lisa said simply.

"She keeps interrupting me."

"I know. She's a ."

Jennie gave a startled laugh.

"Here's what we're going to do – we're going to take a minute – tell me what you want to say to them. Find the words now, instead of when that idiot is talking at you."

Jennie closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She had a million things she wanted to say to that woman, but none of them seemed to come out right when she was in front of her.

She thought for a moment, collecting her thoughts, before she looked back at Lisa.

"I would like to say that I appreciate the work that the historical society does. Some of the greatest monuments of our country would not be here today if not for the work that you do. We respect the integrity of this building and are willing to work closely with the historical society to see that it remains the great landmark that it is."

Lisa nodded encouragingly. Her eyes were trained closely on Jennie's, listening intently. She took a breath and continued.

"Our plans for renovating the ballroom are in no way intended to destroy any part of this landmark. It is merely a desire to update it to the standard of the day. If you look at the records, t