Page 4 of Stuck on the Slopes

From what I could gather, Rachel was close in age to me, maybe only a year or two younger, depending on exactly how old she was when she got her marketing degree from the University of Central Florida. I’d paid the most attention to the statistics listed in her experience, proving the return on investment in hiring her. A quick perusing on LinkedIn and Facebook, too, showed she was just an average young professional. Her profile photo was her professional headshot; her hair was in a bun and a soft, approachable smile was on her face.

But I didn’t do people. I hadn’t in a long time—not since the snowboarding accident that cost me my career, anyway. Dogs were preferable.

I waited for her in the hotel’s front lobby where I still needed to take down some old signage and replace a lot of decor. I’d already thrown a lot away, it was too musty to even be worth considering donating or repurposing. Even without its usual rustic charms, the lobby still maintained a warm, cozy atmosphere. The wood and stone interiors were reminiscent of the woods outside of here that littered the mountain, with warm lighting creating a welcoming ambiance. While the check-in, valet, and concierge desks were the first things seen upon walking through the front doors, the focal point was the stone fireplace with brown, faux-leather chairs and couches surrounding it. A cow-print blanket used to drape over the back of the couch, but I’d replaced it with a flannel-printed fleece and matching pillows.

Much more my style.

As I leaned against the front desk, a familiar throb of pain pulsed through my leg, not letting up despite my medication having long since set in. Most days, the tincture worked its magic and meant I felt as close to fine as I could. But on days like today, when the snow threatened to roll in through a thick haze of white, every muscle surrounding my permanently damaged nerve constricted against my will. A sharp, lingering pain shot through my right hip and lower back, continuing all the way down my leg into the ball of my foot. I shifted my weight as I waited for Rachel to arrive, pointing and flexing my toes as I stretched it out.

Stepping on a sword would be less painful; at least then I’d be able to pull the sword out. My nerve, unfortunately, was very much stuck where it was.

It made me even more annoyed than usual. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to Rachel I’d already decided dealing with someone else would be a necessary evil and she was meeting me when I was in a wretched mood, but it wasn’t my job to be her friend. My only job was to get this ski resort up and running again, back to its former glory.

Not that it was ever the most sought-after ski lodge on the mountain. The massive village at the bottom of the other side was a well-funded, more established destination for locals and tourists alike, which was how this place ended up as an abandoned dump. The construction work was already done—and the thought of how much I’d already spent on contractors made me want to hurl—on the cabins that had been beyond cleaning up, so at least that was out of the way. But at the end of the day, I knew I couldn’t do this alone, especially if I ever wanted to open this place and see a profit.

While I wasn’t in it for the money, to know my money hadn’t just gone into the toilet—literally and figuratively—would certainly be nice.

Sasquatch nudged my right leg with his large snout, leaving behind a few strands of brown fur on my tan chinos. I pat the Newfoundland’s head.

“Yeah, buddy, it does hurt today. But what else is new?”

I looked up at the sound of the lobby’s main doors sliding open to reveal Rachel with her suitcase. She’d only brought the one, which was half as tall as she was, and a stuffed bag on her back that made her hunch forward from its weight. Admittedly, Rachel was more beautiful than I expected—her headshot didn’t do her prominent nose and square jaw justice, and it was clear she put a lot of work into appearing professional. She wore a cream sweater over her light blue dress shirt paired with dark jeans and brown hiking boots that looked fresh out of the box. Her dark berry-red scarf matched her lip stain. If she were smart, she’d instead be wearing Chapstick for the harsh winter to come.

It was only September. Maybe I shouldn’t be this hard on her yet.

Rachel pushed some of her brown curls out of her face as she smiled. The emerald ring on her right hand caught the overhead light as she did, shimmering in my eye enough to make me squint for a second. When she tucked the curls behind her ears, it revealed goose earrings dangling from her lobes. “You must be Mr. Hart?”

I winced. “Yes, but please never call me that again.”

“Right,” she said, drawing out the vowel as she rocked on her heels. “Juniper it is, then. Well, it’s nice to meet you.” She stuck out her hand for a firm, confident handshake. “Rachel Friedman.”

“Yeah, a pleasure.” Upon closer examination, the geese dangling from her ears held knives in their beaks; an interesting choice for a first impression. “Thanks for responding so quickly to the listing. I’ve been eager to get started.”

“Of course.” From the high pitch of her voice, which matched our phone conversation, I gathered Rachel was faking niceties to get by. She sounded like she was ready to check someone in at the front desk rather than speaking normally with a peer. “Is it just us?”

“Yeah, and Sasquatch here. He’s off duty right now, but don’t pet him when his vest is on, alright?”

“He’s a service dog?”

I nodded and looked at the brown Newfoundland. “Go ahead, Squatch. You can say hi.” As Sasquatch approached her, sniffing her unfamiliar feet and her luggage, I said, “I’ve got a bad hip after a snowboarding accident. That comes with back pain, so Sasquatch here does a few tasks for me during flare-ups, so I don’t have to worry about accidentally making it hurt even more. Retrievals, mostly.”

Rachel crouched down to be closer to Sasquatch’s eye level and scratched between his ears. “Hey, big boy.” She spoke not quite in a baby voice, but definitely a few pitches higher. I hadn’t realized that was possible.

And just like that, Sasquatch was in love. He nuzzled her torso and neck with his nose, panting up a storm in his excitement. Some of his dark brown furs already shed onto her scarf as his tail waved back and forth, hitting the floor with a thwack every time it wagged, but she didn’t seem to mind as she said, “Aren’t you a sweetheart?”

I scoffed and crossed my arms, feeling a bit betrayed. “Yeah, he’d love a serial killer if they scratched between the ears like you do.”

She barked a laugh. Sasquatch licked her cheek in response, desperate for more attention, his fur and her brown curls blurring together as he nuzzled against her jaw.

“God, you’d think I ignore him.”

“He’s excited to make a new friend.” She stood, but Sasquatch stayed firmly planted against her leg. “How long have you had him?”

“About two and a half years. He and I can give you a quick lay of the land, but I’m sure you want to get settled and rest. We can worry about the bulk of the property tomorrow.”

“Sure, that works.”

I hid my relief; the last thing I wanted to do was walk through the entire resort with my weather-induced flare-up today. “Great. We’ll stick to the main building for now.” I pointed down the hall with my thumb. “We’ll start this way. I’m in 104, and you’re across from me in 105.” I reached into my left pocket—I carried nothing in the right one as to not have any extra pressure on my leg—and grabbed a room key. “This is all yours.”

---