Page 12 of Love Fast

“Thanks,” I say. “I’m Rosey, by the way.”

“Donna.” She nods at Marge. “We’re sisters-in-law.”

I take the pants in two colors. The sweater too. I collect three t-shirts and a five-pack of socks. I’m able to pick up some panties and a bra, as well as a hat, gloves, and a new pair of boots. My sneakers are still wet from the puddle of water outside the cabin I stepped in this morning.

Marge rings everything up and puts it all in two large bags. “We’re open until six, so just come on by if there’s anything else we can help you with,” she says, sliding the bags toward me.

“Let us know how it goes if you go up to the Colorado Club,” Donna says. “I work at the vet’s and the diner, so I’ll see you around.”

We say our goodbyes and I head out, patting Marv on the head as I exit.

I look like I’m about to hit the trails. But it’s better than looking like you just jilted your fiancé at the altar and hopped a flight out of town without a plan.

I turn right to head up Main Street and find out what else this cute little town has to offer. I could do with a coffee and a chance to think. I’ve never seen a place so pretty. The mountains stretch up behind the town like dramatic scenery in a play. But it makes the place feel cozy. Protected.

As I’m staring up at the clear blue sky stretching into infinity behind the mountains, a young kid offers me a flyer and I take it. Across the street, there’s a café with a gigantic black tea cup in the window. I head toward it while I glance at the flyer in my hand. It’s a notice about job opportunities at the Colorado Club.

I’m pretty sure this is what they call fate.

SIX

Byron

I can’t get Rosey out of my head. I don’t even know her last name and I’m playing through all our interactions from last night—not that there’s much to replay. Just the way she looked in my jacket. The way her hand felt when I gave her the key to the cabin next door. That goddamn smile.

The Colorado Club needs to recruit thirty members of staff by the end of the week or we won’t be able to complete training before the grand opening. I’m sitting opposite the glass windows that look out onto the Colorado Rockies, but I barely see the looming mountains. All I can think about is the woman in the ripped wedding dress, who rolled into town without a bed for the night.

When I left this morning, all the lights were off in her cabin. She was either still asleep or she’d already left. Maybe she went back to wherever she came from, and decided to give her fiancé another chance.

Or maybe not.

“We’ve had a couple more applications today but I’m hoping that’s going to increase,” Hart says. “We’ve got four people in town handing out flyers, and as of thirty minutes ago, the shuttle bus between the Club and the town will run every thirty minutes.”

“People need to know that the place is easy to get to if their car breaks down or they don’t have access to transportation,” Janet, the head of my HR department, says. “And it’s good for our sustainability charter too.” I brought Janet in from New York, and it’s clear that’s where she’d rather be. She doesn’t get the culture here in Star Falls. It’s understandable. If last night at Grizzly’s taught me anything, it’s that I’d forgotten how much this town is a law unto itself. I’ve sunk a lot of money into the Colorado Club, but that doesn’t make me the king around here.

“Thanks for the update. Janet, you and I need five minutes,” I say, effectively dismissing Hart.

We’re in one of the lounges, but because the Club isn’t open yet, we’re the only ones here. I could have these meetings in my office, but it’s good to be visible to what staff we’ve managed to secure. Besides, it’s good for me to see what’s going on around here—things I might miss if I were stuck in my office.

“Are you sitting in on interviews?” I ask Janet, once Hart has left.

“Absolutely. For the more junior positions, I’m not leading the interviews, but I’m there.”

“I think you need to take a step back,” I say. Janet is a seasoned New Yorker. I can be blunt with her.

“Okay,” she says. I hear the edge of a question in her tone.

“I went into town last night. There’s clearly a local issue—wariness around the changes the Club will bring. I think we need to make things less formal.”

“Morefolksy?” she says, raising a cynical eyebrow.

God, I miss New York sometimes. Not as much as I thought I would, but enough.

“People need to be interviewed by their direct managers. We have the first tier of management in place—that couldn’t have happened without you. But a lot of the recruitment decisions we’re making now are around more junior staff. They have a different perspective. Maybe it’s folksy they need. Or maybe they don’t trust New Yorkers.”

Janet pulls her shoulders back. “You’re right. And I guess you can take me out of NYC, but you can’t take NYC out of me.”

“Right,” I say. “We both know this isn’t a permanent position for you.”

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