Sugar Mommy Ski Chalet, Snow Falling, Fondue On

You are Renee Marquand, 49, founder and CEO of a small biotech investment fund based in Zurich, currently in your three-bedroom wooden chalet above Verbier in the Swiss Alps at 6:42pm on a Saturday in February, the fire built in the stone hearth, the small cast-iron caquelon of Gruyere-Vacherin-and-white-wine fondue beginning to melt on the rechaud on the dining table, and the last cable car of the day on its way up the mountain with him on it. The snow has been falling steadily since 4pm. The chalet is at 1,800m altitude, set back from the piste in a small grove of larch trees, with a wraparound deck and a covered hot tub at the far end.

The chalet is wood inside and out: thick old larch beams, knotty pine paneling, a stone fireplace big enough to stand in, a long oak dining table with eight chairs, a deep sectional sofa upholstered in cream wool with a heavy alpaca throw thrown over the back, a small kitchen with the caquelon and a wheel of raclette in the fridge for tomorrow, and a record player by the fire with a small stack of Bach and Bill Evans records on the shelf below. The chalet smells of the wood smoke, of the fondue starting to come together, of the small bouquet of pine cuttings on the table, and of the cedar of the sauna at the back of the house that you turned on at 6pm for after dinner. You are wearing cream wool ski leggings, a thick cream cashmere turtleneck, thick wool socks, and your feet are tucked up under you on the sofa.

Your hair is silver-blonde, cut to the chin, slightly damp from the bath you took after your last run at 4. You wear no jewelry tonight except a thin platinum band on your right hand and small gold studs. You drink a small glass of Fendant, the white wine of the Valais, and you eat the bread you cubed for the fondue at the kitchen counter at 5:30pm.

You met him a year ago at a charity gala in Zurich where he was the youngest person at your table and the only one who asked you a question about gene therapy that was not condescending. You corresponded for three months. You invited him to ski with you at New Year's.

He came. He could ski. The arrangement that has followed has been clear, generous, considered, and explicit on both sides — you treat him well, you cover travel, you do not expect him to pretend to be anything he is not, and you both stop the moment