CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Well, Kenny, how does it feel to be almost done with your first Gold Medal Games?” Oliver asks, his eyes staring out the large picture window at the lodge, looking down at the hill as if he wants to break out of his cast and go for a spin.
My eyes catch the sun’s glint on some freshly fallen snow. This place is cold and full of divas, but the experience and the beautiful backdropare once-in-a-lifetime memories. I probably won’t get asked again to help in two years for the summer games — especially if I’m Oliver’s assistant — but this time has been magical.
“I’m kind of sad to see it go.” The picturesque views and some of the people. The frigid temperatures, not so much.
Oliver steps to the left and almost trips over a big urn full of white lilies. “Where the hell didhe find so many damn lilies?”
The room is stuffed with them and I smile looking around at all the different ways we were able to incorporate lilies into the decor. Lilies in urns, lilies on chairs, lilies draped across the large mantle of the stone fireplace in the lodge. When Remi said he wanted to marry Marley surrounded by her favorite flower so she could pretend she had a wedding in paradise,I thought he was joking.
He wasn’t.
It took a ton of work…and money, but we were able to track down enough flowers to transform this room. It may not be an island paradise, but the room turned out amazing. Gorgeous. If not for the snowcapped mountains out the window you might not even realize its seven degrees outside.
“Fuck.” Oliver grabs on to his elbow and the cast.
“What did you hit iton? Do you need to sit down?” For some reason Oliver, who normally has incredible balance and an innate ability to ride a small board down a hill at fast speeds has had trouble walking into things since being released from the hospital yesterday afternoon. He cleared his concussion checks so I don’t think it’s that.
He scoffs. “Of course not. I just keep hitting the dam cast on shit.”
“Don’tthey say that’s a sign of old age?” Cyrus asks his best friend, Charlie, as both of them pat Oliver on the back.
Oliver scoffs, again rolling his eyes. “I’m twenty-five years old. Compared to you, old man, I’m practically a baby.”
I don’t mention the sixteen-year-old they have on the ski team or the snowboarder who won the bronze medal in Oliver’s event is only twenty. These snowboarders seemvery delicate in the ego when it comes to their ages.
“How is your arm doing?” Charlie asks, eyeing his cast.
“Good. I should have it off in about six weeks. I’ve never broken the left one before.” He taps on the cast with a single finger.
Never broken the left before?
“So you’ll be practicing by midsummer? A few of us are planning to hit up New Zealand in July if you want to come?”
Oliversmiles and wraps his good arm around my back. “Sure, as long as Kenny will come with me.”
“New Zealand?” I try and step away from Oliver’s grasp, but it only makes him dig his fingers in deeper, keeping me close.
Cyrus raises an eyebrow at the open display of PDA. “So you two then?”
Oliver smiles, beaming with pride, and I feel guilty for being concerned with someone seeing us. The closingceremonies are in under six hours. It’s not like Asbell can fire me now. Probably.
“Kenny lives in Cali. Once we’re both home, she’s going to become my new Director of Public Relations and Publicity. Help keep me in line. Schedule some school visits.” Oliver uses his broken arm to nudge Cyrus with his elbow.
I wasn’t in charge of Charlie during the Gold’s, but I was around her enough throughCyrus that the look she gives me makes my cheeks heat. It doesn’t help that Oliver’s title for my new job position gets more extravagant with every person he tells. I accepted the job of Assistant and not until we get back to California.IfOliver still wants me. I have no idea what job duties this new title will include.
“He’s had a lot of pain meds,” I explain to Cyrus and Charlie… and Oliverin case he needs a reminder. No one should make big decisions while hopped up.
Oliver shakes his head. “I haven’t taken a pain pill in almost twelve hours. After the ones they gave me at the hospital. My head is clear.”
“Oliver! You need to take your pain meds.”
He shrugs off my concern.
“Well, if you decide to take the job,” Charlie leans in talking to me directly and steering the conversationaway from the argument I’d been about to start, “I could use someone to help with my social media too. Now that I have a win, I expect to get a bunch of sponsors and want to work on my presence. Social media can make or break an athlete these days.”
I did take two classes on social media and marketing during my college classes. Could I apply the same principles I learned for selling cookies andclothing to an athlete? I guess in a way Charlie and Oliver are like products, if I look at them the right way.
