Page 32 of Trusting the Grumpy Mountain Man
My phone rings, displaying the department number. I consider letting it go to voicemail, but professionalism wins out.
"Riley Chaffeur speaking."
"I'm checking on your progress with the revised report." Margaret's voice holds no warmth. "The deadline is five o'clock."
"I'm still working on it." I close my laptop, unable to look at the truth I've documented while contemplating betraying it.
"This shouldn't be difficult, Riley. Document the violations, recommend termination. Simple."
"Nothing about this is simple." The words escape before I can filter them.
Silence stretches across the connection. When Margaret speaks again, her voice has dropped to a dangerous quiet.
"I had such hopes for you. But it seems you've allowed personal feelings to cloud your professional judgment."
My stomach drops. "What do you mean?"
"We received an anonymous call this morning. Apparently, our evaluator has been observed in a rather intimate relationship with the program director she's supposed to be assessing objectively."
Ice floods my veins. Someone in town must have assumed. Whisper Vale is small enough that gossip travels fast.
"My personal life has no bearing on my professional assessment," I say, fighting to keep my voice steady.
"Normally I'd agree." Margaret's tone suggests otherwise. "But in this case, the conflict of interest is glaring. I'm reassigning the evaluation effective immediately."
"You can't do that." Panic rises in my throat. "My report is nearly complete."
"A report now tainted by your inability to maintain professional boundaries." She sighs heavily. "This is disappointing, Riley. I expected better."
"My assessment is valid," I insist. "The program has issues but delivers extraordinary results."
"Your opinion is no longer relevant to this matter." The finality in her voice sends chills down my spine. "Jenkins will arrive tomorrow to complete the evaluation. Please provide your notes and vacate the premises by noon."
"Margaret, please listen?—"
"This conversation is over." The line goes dead.
I sit frozen, phone still pressed to my ear. Jenkins is the department's hatchet man, sent in when a program's fate is predetermined. His arrival means only one thing: Peak Survival is already condemned.
Because of me. Because I couldn't maintain professional distance. Because I fell for the very man I was sent to evaluate.
The irony crushes me. By following my heart, I've destroyed the program I was trying to save.
I need to tell Jax. The thought of facing him with this news makes me physically ill, but he deserves to hear it from me.
I find him at the climbing wall with the teens, demonstrating advanced techniques. His movements are fluid and confident, his focus absolute. He belongs here in these mountains, helping these kids find strength they never knew they possessed.
And I've ruined it all.
I wait until the lesson concludes and the teens head to the mess cabin for afternoon break. Jax spots me as he packs away equipment, his expression guarded.
"I need to talk to you," I say, approaching cautiously. "Privately."
He nods, leading me away from the main areas to a small clearing overlooking the valley. The view is breathtaking, Nevada mountains stretching to the horizon under a perfect blue sky.
"Margaret called again," I begin, words sticking in my throat. "Someone reported our... relationship to the department."
His face remains impassive, but his knuckles whiten as he grips the climbing rope in his hands. "And?"
