Page 25 of Worth the Rush
“I can understand that,” I tell him, even though I actually don’t understand that too well. I hate being alone. I’m working toward being happier with being alone. I think one of the reasons I started reading was to not be alone with my thoughts. I wasn’t always a big reader, but shortly after I came home from the hospital all those years ago, it became clear I would need an escape from what my life would be for the next five years. Oh shit, didn’t he ask me something?
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He gives me a patient smile before repeating his question.
“How does Silverthorne compare to your life back in California?”
I blow out a breath. “I wouldn’t say they have much in common at all really, so that would be a very short list,” I say, and thinking about a list now makes me think of twinkling blue eyes. I push onward with my reply. “I grew up on a vineyard until I was in seventh grade and have lived in sunny Southern California since I started boarding school with very minimal visits home,” I answer honestly.
“Did your parents visit you while you were away?”Ouch.I know that Jack can’t know my history. That wouldn’t be why he’s asking, but this particular question speaks to deep-rooted pain.
“Not really.” Is all I say, and luckily, Jack drops this line of questioning, instead sticking to hobbies and traveling. I’m surprised to find I’m having a nice time. Jack’s very sweet and extremely handsome. It’s actually a little astounding that I haven’t met an unattractive man since I arrived. My irrational vampire theories are going to run wild later tonight when I’m alone with them and my other chaotic thoughts.
He walks with me back to my office after our lunch. I have a few more emails I need to send, and I need to grab my coat and phone that I left on my desk. The weather is nice today, and there’s a flurry of activity around the resort.
“So, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I was wondering if you’d like to do this again. Maybe next time it could be over dinner?” Jack asks as we reach the door to the lodge. It probably shouldn’t come as such a shock. We get along, and we’re both attractive single adults. The funny thing is I would have said yes, but now I can’t. As soon as I picture going to dinner with someone, it’s Alder Holloway who I see sitting across from me. Unfortunately. How frustrating that he hasn’t been here all day, and yet he’s still messing with my head.
“I’m flattered, Jack.”
“Oh, no,” he groans, but his words are good-natured. I give him a tight smile. “Let me guess, it has nothing to do with me.” I laugh at that because even when I’m turning him down, he remains so incredibly likable.
“You would be right in assuming that the issue lies with me. I think you’re great?—”
“But…” Jack encourages. I glance up to see a faded green Bronco pass by. If that isn’t comedic timing, I’m not sure what is.
“But I don’t think it would be a good idea…because of the previously mentioned issues.” I finish my sentence, still staring at the truck rumbling down the mountain road.
Jack turns, and too late, I realize my mistake. “Ah, I see,” he concludes.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here. It’s really not like that or like anything. I don’t even like him most of the time,” I rush out.
He raises his hand slightly and smiles a kind smile. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Ivy.”
“Thank you. And I hope we can still get lunch and remain friends. I have really enjoyed getting to know you,” I stress.
“Of course, after I dust myself off from that brutal rejection.” He pauses and winks. “I’m enjoying getting to know you as well. I hope you’ll let me know if anything changes though.”
“I will,” I agree, and then give his arm a friendly squeeze before heading inside. What a day it’s been and a strange turn of events. Annoyingly, I have a certain helicopter pilot on my mind. As I grab my forgotten phone and check my notifications, I find myself wondering how his day was and wanting to ask him. Six texts, all from Sienna, and a missed call from…my father? I expected an email, not a phone call. He’s probably pissed I didn’t answer.
I debate on calling him back tomorrow but decide I should just get it over with. If I know him, and I undoubtedly do, this will be brief but probably painful. I sit down in my chair andpull up the email I’ve sent him, not wanting to be caught unprepared for any questions or concerns he might bring up. I tap his number on my screen and close my eyes.
“Ivy. Nice of you to call me back finally.”Finallyis twenty minutes after I missed his call, but sure, finally. I sigh.
“So sorry I missed your call. I’ve been busy, as I’m sure you’ve seen from my email,” I tell him in a sickly-sweet voice.
“There’s no need for that, Ivy. I just wanted to check in. How are you?” His question throws me momentarily. He doesn’t ask how I am. He asks if I need anything, meaning money and things he could buy with his money, but never his time or attention. That’s never been on the table.
“I-I’m fine. Things are moving fast here, I may not even be here the full three months you’ve given me,” I propose. At that, I get a grunt.
“We’ll see. I called to tell you something, but I can’t remember what it was now. Which is why you should always answer when I call. I’ll send you a message when I have time, but I’m busy the rest of the day. Next time, answer the call, Ivy.” He hangs up before I can say goodbye. I stare at my phone. It’s not the first time this has happened, but I keep wondering when it will sting just a little less. I toss the offending object into my purse and head home. The rest of my emails can wait until tomorrow. My stomach is uneasy after that phone call, so I’ll have to trade out my glass of wine for a sparkling water and read my book tonight.
Today has been…a day, and it’s only eleven thirty. I’m in the middle of a private lesson with a family that seems like they would rather be anywhere but here. The father is trying to connect with his kids, and all they really want to do is take pictures of themselves in their very expensive gear and check their phones.
I couldn’t care less about that, except it’s my job to make sure, if they decide to go down anything more than a bunny hill, that they at least know how to stop safely. Or else it will also be me paying for it later when I have to lead a search party up the side of the mountain. That happens more frequently than you’d like to think. I love flying, but typically, when we have to get the helicopter involved for a rescue, it means someone is in a higher-risk situation. Going in on foot means that the conditions are still manageable without an airlift.
I look up to see the daughter of the group staring at me. Again. If it’s not the mothers, it’s their daughters. Sometimes it’s both. I walk a very fine line between keeping guests happyand keeping them from slipping their numbers. I would be lying if I said that I didn't slip a few in my pocket. Ray and I were reckless with our jobs and never thought about the consequences. He always made our most boring days here fun. I miss that. I misshim.
“So how long have you been working here?” the teenage girl asks, looking up at me from under her lashes. I inwardly groan.
“Oh, I’d say since you were probably in diapers.” This doesn’t always deter them, but I take a gamble. It pays off. She wrinkles her nose. Her game is not quite as fun as before.
