For a moment I had a hard time wrapping my mind around the three men in front of me. For starters there was supposed to four of them and that was the first bad sign. My previous clientele was never late. Then I noticed their cars. All of them were reasonable, all-wheel-drive SUVs and cars. All of these cars were meant to get up and down the mountain, not attract attention or profess financial gains. And the men themselves weren't wearing fine suits with gleaming shoes. Oh no, they were bundled up from head to toe with bright jackets, thick mittens, and funky toques. I felt like I had leapt into a new world with them.

"Good morning, gentlemen," I greeted, walking from my small sedan across the parking lot to the SUV they were unloading. The cute booties I was wearing had nearly no grip so I ended up shuffling my way across the ice.

"Good morning," one of them replied with a massive smile that consumed his face. The others ignored me and continued on with their unpacking.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. This wasn't the introduction I was used to. I was used to my fiancé throwing his arms around me and all of his teammates teasing me. I had been family with the hockey team. Here, I was just doing a job for people who didn't care about me. And wasn't that what I wanted?

"You're going to be cold," one of them commented, bringing me back to the snow covered parking lot.

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking down at my coat and scarf. Sure, the satin shirt I had worn beneath my jacket wasn't the most sensible, but it was one of my favorites and I had used it as a confidence booster. No one would see it under the thick jacket that reached my thighs. Plus, I had an adorable, paisley scarf tied around my neck and thick mittens on my hands. "I would be sweating in the hoc...on my other locations in this."

The snowboarder caught my fumble. "This isn't a hockey rink. This is a mountain," he said. "But since you can't pick up your rebound from the ice I guess we'll have to do." When he grinned at me I couldn't tell if it was meant to be playful or sinister.

"I'll be fine, but thank you for your concern," I said tightly.

Not much was said after that and I was thankful. The men agreed to meet me on the hill, at a portion of the terrain park that had been sectioned off. I went back to my car and loaded my shoulders up with my hefty camera bags. I had rarely done any shoots outside of the hockey rink since I had started my business. I had little idea how to work with natural light and cold lenses, but it couldn't be that hard. I had always been told that I was a natural, I'm sure I would pick it up quickly.

By the time I had made it to our assigned meeting spot I felt like I had worked up a sweat despite the frigid air that was blowing in my face. Still, I pretended to be unbothered when I saw two pairs of skeptical eyes on me and one gaze that was holding concern.

"Frozen yet?" the ruder one wondered with a single raised eyebrow.

"Not yet," I replied, forcing the best smile I could. "I don't think we have been properly introduced. My name in Penelope. The snowboard magazine that is doing a column on you guys is short a photographer so I'll be doing taking over your photoseries."

"We know who you are," he stated, "How could we not know? Penelope Jones, the most gorgeous sports photographer...and recently single. But I don't imagine that you know us. This is Graydon." He indicated the one I had pegged as the sweetheart, the only one who had been remotely nice to me. "He's Jackson" A mitten was jabbed at the unassuming second man. "I'm Tyson."

"It's so lovely to meet all of you," I said with a glowing smile still on my lips. I had to do this. I had to get through this. I couldn't rely on money coming in from a famous fiancé anymore. "I thought there was going to be four of you today."

"Hudson will probably show up soon enough," Tyson grunted. "Can we get started, sugar?"

At that I couldn't keep my composure anymore. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. Had my reputation been destroyed that much? Did everyone know that I was single and did everyone know that we had started dating after I had been signed as his team's photographer? My fiancé's sharp words during our last argument rung through my mind. But he couldn't be the reason behind all this inappropriate behavior, could he be? No, he had loved me. Even if it had ended on bad terms he was a professional. Now, I could only swallow hard and nod.

The three men went up and down the run repeatedly. While one of them was riding the lift the other was racing down the slope, hitting one or several of the jumps as they went. My first struggle came with operating the tiny controls with large gloves on. After the first three cycles I realized that I was using the wrong flash for the conditions. Then I realized that my camera wasn't set properly for the conditions and the majority of my captured shots would have to be discarded. And after another two cycles it began to snow, softly for a few moments, then blizzard worthy, forcing me to swap out some of my more delicate gear for their water proof counter parts. And after four hours in the cold I no longer had feeling in my fingers or my toes.

The boys all met up in a group at the lodge, undoing their bindings and laughing amongst themselves. Though I wanted the warmth of the lodge, I also wanted to save my dignity and avoid any more flirty comments. My job was to get photos to submit to the magazine, I had done that. I didn't have to talk to these men anymore and that meant that I could avoid Tyson.

But Graydon saw me just as I started moving towards my car.

"Penelope!" he shouted, waving a mitten-ed hand in the air. "Come here."

I could have risked being rude and blatantly walked away. Being polite had not been in my job description. But I had lost my contract and that meant that I lost my income. The only way to get new clients now was to rebuild my reputation. I wasn't well known enough or sought after enough to be snobby. I forced a big grin and walked over to the trio.

"I want to see the pictures from shoot. I did a backside lipslide to a front flip and I think my form has been getting better," Graydon stated with a proud smile.

I froze a little, still smiling but it was becoming tighter. "I don't know what that is," I confessed. And even if I had I doubted my frozen fingers would be able to operate my camera now.

"Gray, she doesn't do snowboarding photography. Besides that pretty face will land her a new boyfriend in no time. I'm just hoping it's me," he teased, jabbing his friend with his elbow.

"Actually I don't date clients."

"I'm sure Connor Vincent would disagree with that."

"It was a mistake to mix romance and work," I said, but it felt like my chest had crumpled inward. I had been interested in my fiancé well before I had been his photographer. I hadn't used him for publicity or to get my photography company off the ground, but in retrospect it was an awful way to play my cards.

"Maybe you're just out here on the rebound then, looking for someone else for a quick fuck?"

"No! Oh my God."

"Hey, what are you guys talking about?" a man asked, approaching the group from the side. "Oh, you must be the photographer. I'm Hudson," he introduced, extending a glove towards me.

I shook his hand regardless of the rage that was growing within me, but didn't spare him a second glance. Not that there was much to see between his helmet, goggles, bandana and puffy jacket. First I had to deal with this ignorant, arrogant man, and now this new one didn't even have the decency to be embarrassed about missing our session.

"We were just finishing up, but it's lovely to meet you," I lied, hoping that I looked less venomous than I felt on the inside.

"You guys are done already? Perfect, I love being the center of attention," he continued, like he couldn't feel the tension in the air. He must've been as numb to emotion as my toes were to the cold. "Come on, I'll tell you where to get set up for the best shots."

And I followed him, cursing mentally as I went. But, right now, my emotions didn't matter. What mattered was rebuilding my reputation.