“Because you have more business on the mountain than anyone I know.” He casually picks up his jacket off the bench, his voice way too calm for my liking.
“I doubt that, considering I need special training for whatever you have in mind,” I snort.
“Just a few classes on adaptive maneuvers.” He waves a dismissive hand. “And maybe some sensitivity training. Ideally that will prevent you from saying the wrong thing to the wrong person, like you did with the judge earlier.” Though we’re roughly the same height he manages to look down on me. Not with pity—thankGod—more like a reprimand. I hate that look too, especially considering the guy’s probably only five years my senior.
And here I used to think he was okay for a rich dude.
“You think you can train me not to tell it like it is? Sorry, but life’s too short to kiss ass all the time. My filter died with my brother.” I cross my arms over my chest, mainly because it makes me look like a prick, and I feel like being one.
“I’m aware. You already lost one sponsor by telling him where to stick it after you blamed him for Chase’s death. Lucky for you I’m hard to offend.”
“Their gear sucked, anyway.” I double down. I’m nothing if not determined, and right now I’m determined not to give a shit about much of anything.
“Do I have to remind you what’s at stake here? Your reputation. Your career.” Carter purses his lips but stops short of frowning, which makes him look more disappointed than angry. I prefer anger.
“I know what you’re doing. And it won’t work.” Court order or no, I’m not getting back on that mountain. He should know by now I’m a bad investment.
Carter’s eyes roam over me, calculating. “We’ll see.” He spins toward the door, pausing before he pushes it open. “Be at my office by nine a.m. tomorrow for training. You have two days to complete it before you report to Hayden on Thursday, and trust me when I say you’d better be sober when you do.”
“Who the fuck is Hayden?”
“Your new manager.”
If I wasn’t shooting daggers at him I might've missed the wicked gleam in his eye as he says that. He thinks he’s won? That a ballsy dude will be able to get me on a board?Bring it on, boss.
“And if I’m not?”
“Then I think maybe your idea to pay off your bail money has merit. I hope you can cover it without your other major sponsor.”
“I never…” He saunters out the door before I finish.
Dammit.
I’m not destitute, but I’m not stupid enough to throw away money, especially since I don’t know when or if I’ll have more coming in. Not from riding anyway, and at the moment I don’t have a plan B if I can’t bring myself to strap on a board again.
Stupid fucker has me by the balls and he knows it. I need a drink.
Chapter two
Hayden
It takes some extra oomph to yank open the door in the frigid air, and I make a mental note to add handicap-accessible, automated doors to my wish list of building improvements. Not that there’s any plan in place for said improvements, but a guy can dream, right? Hell, the fact I’m here at all suggests dreams can come true, so why stop?
I make my way to my office, flipping on lights as I go, and trying to ignore the drab walls that have a yellowish tinge under the fluorescent light. My title may have been upgraded with this job, but my surroundings… not so much. On my first day, I wondered if the reason I got this job was less about my qualifications and more about my willingness to work in less-than-ideal conditions. Not that this place is a dump, it’s justdated. Now, I think I’m here because the owner, Carter, saw a little of himself in me. That’s what I like to tell myself, anyway.
Like me, Carter is young for the position he holds, which makes him all the more determined to succeed. I have that same passion, so while there are undoubtedly more experienced people out there, I’m the one with the job, which is why I’ve got my running wish list. I figure if he granted the first one, hiring me, maybe he’ll grant more.Though doors that work are hardly a big ask for a facility that serves people with disabilities.
Collapsing into my office chair I switch on the computer to start going over the day’s schedule before the first guests arrive. We don’t have as many appointments as I’d like—or as many as I’m used to at the resort I came from out east—but six is a decent number considering this is the first year Katah Vista is offering adaptive instruction. And if I’m being honest, fewer clients are probably better at this stage.
Normally, it takes months to prepare for the season, and I’ve been here all of ten days. I did what I could before making the cross country move to Katah Vista, so it’s not like I just hung a sign on the door saying we’re open and sat around waiting for people to show, but there’s a limit to what you can do remotely.
It hasn’t been the ideal start, but I believe in the program, and I know I can make it work. So what if I haven't been able to hire a full staff yet? Do we really need someone to tend the desk on day one? Okay… bad example for optimism's sake. The point is, there’s nothing wrong with starting small. We can build something incredible here, and I’m willing to bet if we provide a great experience people will overlook the fact we need a facelift.
This building may not have been designed to cater to people with disabilities, but it’s got good bones. There’s a large lobby with comfortable seating, a handful of offices behind the front desk area, and it’s even got locker rooms on the far side of the lobby. And the best part, it’s technically ADA compliant, so even if it doesn’t have the latest bells and whistles it meets the requirements our guests will need.
Besides, the building isn’t even the draw. The mountain is, and I’ve lined up a few people to help ensure we deliver a good experience for anyone who wants to ride it.
It’ll take a few years, but I'm determined to make this one of the best adaptive programs in the country, and when I put my mind to it, I can move mountains. Ski pun intended.
