Page 13 of Stuck on the Slopes

“I know I am. Don’t be a dick.”

Rachel and I met at our usual spot in the lobby, right in front of the desk. We’d unintentionally matched today, both of us wearing green flannels and jeans. At least she’d started dressing more casually since arriving here; her whole first week she wore semi-business casual attire but learned quickly it wasn’t comfortable for getting hands dirty.

Maybe Allison was right; maybe Rachelwasjust trying to be professional and polite rather than completely fake.

“Good morning! Edgar wanted me to give this to you.” She handed me a to-go cup of coffee with one hand. She held a second cup closer to her body. “It’s half coffee, half hot chocolate. He said he was looking to try something new and wanted our opinion. I’ve had a few sips already and can confirm it won’t burn your mouth.”

I gave her a closed-lipped smile as I accepted the drink. “Thanks.” I took a sip, savoring the hazelnut notes and the rich chocolate. A hint of caramel swirled in with it, too, causing the drink to warm me from the inside out. “This is good.”

“Did you get any caramel in yours, too?”

“Yeah, it’s nice. Super rich, though.”

“Mm.” She took a sip of her own, looking akin to a cat lying in the sun. “Where do you want to start today?”

“Let’s start with some of these photographs and paintings in the hallway and lobby,” I suggested. “Then we can go from there.”

We worked in relative silence. I was never really sure what to say to her, and I think she’d reached the end of her social road, too. Over the last few weeks, Rachel had tried and failed to make small talk: telling me stories from her old job or asking me if I had any favorite restaurants around here that weren’t attached to our building.

As a former celebrity, of sorts, everyone always expected me to be more social. In truth, I’d always preferred to keep to myself. My life had been on display for so long I cherished privacy and quiet. I’d been on the slopes since before I could even remember, learning to ski and snowboard not long after learning to walk. When my mother realized I wasn’t too bad for a kid, she jumped at the chance to enroll me in competitions. And then it snowballed, rolling down that powdered hill and never stopping until I had no choice.

Rachel’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, pulling me back from memory lane and into the hallway.

“I don’t think this one goes super well. Is it cool if I move it? It’s a smidge too tall for this wall.”

As I stood by her side, looking at the vertical photograph of the Rocky Mountains we’d picked up at a local store last week, I frowned. “I think it looks fine.”

“You do? Look.” When she stepped closer to the wall, her shoulder brushed against me. Before I could even register the contact and the shot of warmth it sent down my arm, I shifted to the side. My hip cracking filled the brief silence as she held the photo up and displayed it on the wall. “See? It almost brushes against this gorgeous wainscoting that all the hallways have, so I’m thinking we swap it out for something horizontal and move this down to the lobby.” Her eyes glanced to my hip. “You okay, by the way?”

“Oh, yeah. It does that a lot. You’ll probably tune it out after a while. If anything, it feels good when it cracks.” As I remembered Allison’s advice, I shrugged a shoulder. “As far as the pictures go, do whatever you want. I don’t have a strong opinion either way.”

“I’ll make the switch, then.” Despite my permission, Rachel sounded dejected. Maybe AJwasn’tright for once. “Anything you do have an opinion on?”

“Nope. I trust your judgment.”

Her dejection faded with a smile as she realized that our conversation was a misunderstanding. “You do?”

False alarm: AJ had been right, as initially thought at the beginning of the day.

“Yeah,” I said. “You’re the marketing pro, after all. Make this place pretty. I’ll hang shit wherever you tell me.”

“Looks like my middle school addiction to The Sims paid off.”

“Shall I play the soundtrack on my phone or something?”

She nearly snorted as she laughed. “That’s hardly necessary. It’s going to be stuck in my head now, though.”

“Can you bring me the nails?” I asked. “I need a bigger one over here.”

She nodded, bringing the plastic storage box with her. When our fingers grazed against one another, before I could withdraw, an inexplicable heat shot through my chest, not unlike whenever Sasquatch lay on top of me and put all of his weight into those massive paws of his. My heart raced, unsure of what I was feeling or why I was feeling it. Perhaps it was from years of loneliness and self-isolation having only Allison and Rick to talk to from time to time, Edgar from the restaurant when necessary, and… well, no one else.

No one. Not even my family.

It was better that way. At least it had been. But now, as my body betrayed me, I couldn’t help but wonder. Sasquatch looked up at me from his spot, ever my shadow, then trotted off. I already knew where he was going. Part of me wanted to tell him to stay, but the dog had better judgement than I did. I wasn’t going to stop him.

Not ready or willing to unpack those feelings, I tried to brush them off by grabbing the next picture to hang. When I lifted a larger portrait in a particularly heavy frame, my back tweaked just enough to trigger my sciatic nerve pain. I mumbled a curse as the muscles in my right glute tensed, feeling like someone wrung out a wet towel but never released it.

Rachel looked back at me as she hung up a painting of some elk. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

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