“That doesn’t matter. They can love the food in the kitchen and the mint on their pillow all they want, but that isn’t something that brings people back. I think the marketing toward amateur athletes, people that work pay to paycheck, and obviously you have the elite. The elite can afford anything they want. We should have memberships for them and find out where they work, send a package to welcome them, like a PR package you see influencers getting on Instagram.”
“And the people that live check to check?”
“They can have a punch card. For everytime they stay or ski or snowboard, they can get a free rental next time, which can get expensive.”
“And atheletes?”
“They have discounts. All sorts. Chris should know a ton of athletes trying to make it in the world and their good reviews will impress everyone in that industry.”
“And how will it look when we have Melinda Bailey, the woman that was held in custody?” His eyes soften when he questioned me.
I blew out a breath and sat back. “I don’t have an answer for that. I was in something I had no idea of. I would hope to have the benefit of the doubt and have my credentials prove that I’m not the kind of woman to be apart of that life. If I would have known he was a criminal, I would have never dated him. My father’s business is everything and I’d never ruin it.”
He smiled when he heard my answer, and boom, now I was here.
And when the train started to slow, excitement buzzed through my body. Holy crap, I had left my home and was making my way in the world, far away from everything I knew. I grabbed my bag when the train came to a complete stop. I followed the line of people out until the cold air hit my face, and the sign to the left of me read, “Welcome to Boulder, Colorado.”
The ground had a few inches of snow, but the brick was clear. I couldn’t wait to experience my first snowfall in Colorado. I smiled as I walked by a few people, bunching their coats together and keeping their heads down to try to stay warm, but not me, nope. I kept my head up, letting the cold numb my face.
I saw a man ahead of me holding a sign with my name on it, and I waved, so excited that it made me forget to watch where I was walking. My right foot hit my left ankle right as I stepped on a patch of ice. I didn’t stand a chance to right myself. I hit my ass on the brick—hard—and the breath got knocked out of my lungs. When the shock subsided, I realized I had a handsome man staring down at me — the man with the sign.
“It’s a good thing you aren’t a waitress,” the guy held out his hand and helped me up. I winced as my back cracked when I got to my feet. “I’m Ben. We spoke on the phone.”
I blew a strand of hair out of my face and shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Melinda. And you’re right—it’s a good thing I’m not a waitress. I fall at least twice a day.”
“We don’t have hazard pay…” he cocked a smile to let me know he was kidding.
I chuckled. “It’s alright. Hopefully, it won’t be needed. I usually get back on my feet.”
“Good thing. Let me grab your bag, and we can get going. We have a chalet set up for you until you can get settled. You’ll love it. It has the best view of the mountains.”
"I'm excited. Thank you again for taking a chance on me. You won’t regret it.”
“I know. I saw your experience. I can't believe you left New York to come to little old Breckenridge. What made you decide to do that?”
I felt like that was a longer story than what we had time for. “Well, I needed a change of pace. I wanted to try something new.”
“You came to the right place. Bates Resort is going to be amazing.” He loaded my luggage in the back of the truck and opened my door for me. Oh, cute and a gentleman? Was he single? I didn’t have the nerve to ask.
“I think I came to the right place too.” We made light chit−chat as we drove and compared Colorado to New York City, and before I knew it, I stared at a beautiful chalet home just outside of Breckenridge with an A−frame roof that went all the way down to the ground. It was something out of a Christmas magazine. The windows were huge in the front, and I imagined sitting on the couch, staring out to see the mountains as I sipped coffee.
Ben unlocked the front door, and I stomped the snow off my boots as we made our way inside the house. I didn’t want to get snow on these beautiful hardwood floors. “I know you just got here, but my bar in Breckenridge is open, and a lot of people will be there that will be working at the resort along with some locals and Chris, who you should meet since he is your boss, and have some fun before work starts.”
“I’d love to.” I took one last look around, telling myself I’d get a tour later after I spent a few hours at the bar. I was excited to get to know everyone. If they were as nice as Ben, I had a feeling I'd love it here.
Ben set the bag next to the door and handed me the keys. “Want to lock up?”
I grabbed them from his hand with a prance in my step. “Don’t mind if I do.” The lock slid into place, and when I turned around, my foot slipped on another patch of ice, only this time, Ben caught me.
“Man, we are going to have to watch out for you.” He placed me on my feet and ran down the steps toward the truck, opening the door for me again. "Take your time, please. I don't feel like looking for a new marketing manager."
I narrowed my eyes at him as I held onto the rail. “Hardy−har−har.” We drove to Breckenridge, which was about ten to fifteen minutes from the resort. When we finally came to the town, it reminded me of a small Christmas village. Snow decorated the roofs, and the roads were freshly plowed. It was both cute and quaint.
“Here we are,” Ben said, turning the wheel left to pull into a snow−filled parking lot.
The bar was beautiful. It had a chalet-style vibe to match the environment of Colorado. I barely remembered walking up the steps since I was mind blown by the cool exterior. And when I entered, the inside was different. It was a mix between a factory and a log cabin. It had exposed plumbing, hanging lightbulbs and wooden tables with frames and legs made from old piping.
“This is my baby,” Ben said over the loud chatter of conversations and music blaring from the jukebox. “I’m only going to be at the resort’s bar a few times a week since this is my main focus.”
