“Hey.”
"What's good, Bossman!"
I smiled, loving everyone's greeting, but the only person who didn't greet me was Melinda, she was on her phone, not paying attention. And once the meeting got started, she didn't seem to pay attention to anything I had to say. She listened, but she was constantly scribbling on her notepad, looking down. She updated everyone on the New Year's gala, but not once did she look me in the eye. It was unlike her. Usually, she'd meet my gaze and stare until one of us broke contact. It was our little game. And she was proud and stubborn like that.
After the meeting was dismissed, I hid away in my office, crunching numbers and trying not to pull my hair out. Ever since I took on the resort, I could have sworn my hairline started to recede. It could be all in my head. Let's hope. I was too young to go bald. Hell, I NEVER wanted to go bald. It wasn't my look.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten lunch or dinner, and it was getting late. I pulled my eyes away from the calendar and rubbed them with a groan and then stretched. My back and neck popped, and a bit of the stress went away. There was nothing like a good stretch.
Snow started to fall again, and I took a moment to watch it, to relax and to remember why I got invested in this place. I wanted this. I was overwhelmed right now. I hadn’t even had time to squeeze in a visit with my brother. That was sad. He needed me. I needed to get over my bullshit and go to him. But still. If I forgot about that, I loved this place. If I could only learn to breathe again.
Checking the time, I cursed, “Shit.” It was too late to see my brother, but it was the perfect time to go to Ben’s bar and get a burger and a drink. I closed the office door behind me and nearly ran into Melinda on my way out.
“Sorry,” I said, chastising myself for not saying something more sincere.
“It’s fine,” she didn’t look up from her pen and paper as she scribbled.
“Can I talk to you?”
“I’m busy, Chris.”
“It will only take a few minutes.”
She huffed, setting her pen down calmly, a contradiction to her demeanor. “Yes?”
“I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier.”
“It’s forgotten.”
“It isn’t.”
“Chris. I'm done, okay? I'm done with this. This back and forth. It's exhausting. This is me just…” she sighed. “This is me moving on from the past and figuring out my future. We’re no longer competing about grades in high school. Or whatever. I have to focus on my future.”
“I don’t have a place in your future?”
“As my boss,” but the words were spoken in a low whisper as she twisted her hands. Yeah, she wanted more too, I could hear it in the rasp, the broken chords her voice tried to speak. But while the words cut deeper than I wanted—even though I knew the subtext—I also knew that I had to respect that answer for now.
“I wanted to talk to you about charity.” I switched the subject, not wanting to get into an in-depth discussion. “I want this to be a social enterprise with us donating some of our profits toward underprivileged kids wanting to get on the slopes. Gear, lessons, transport. That kind of thing. It's just right now…we don’t have any profits. Hell, we’re even behind schedule opening. So, I want to raise some funds to cover this until we are in the black.”
“It's a great idea, but with so many other things on our plate right now, I think it is best if we work our way up to it. Wait till we get in the black. Let the resort catch some buzz first.”
“I want to do it sooner, Melinda. It's important to me. Kids deserve a chance — all kids. Not just the ones born into wealth,” I had to stop myself from saying more on that topic, as bitterness started to creep into my voice. “Plus, I think it’d be good for our brand name. For marketing. My Instagram fans will love it.”
“I don’t disagree, Chris.” She let out a sigh, “I’m sorry. I haven’t eaten in what feels like days, and I’m getting snappy.”
“I’m starved too. I think I'll go to Ben's place, or order from there if you wanna join?” I threw in the invitation to help soften the blow from my earlier actions.
“Um, it’s fine. I’ll get something from the vending machine.” She gave me her back, hunching over the desk, clearly wanting this conversation to end.
An idea struck. I was going to order food from Ben’s, and have it delivered. Then when she smelled the richness of the fries and the burgers, she wouldn’t be able to help herself. She would have to join me. I sent a text to Ben to let him know I wanted two burger classics, everything on the side, and to make it quick. As the best friend of the owner, I had some privileges. I hurried back inside my office and shut the door, rummaging through all my drawers to see if I had extra swim shorts here.
Nope.
Why would I? It was winter.
My phone dinged—it was Ben saying he could bring them in a half hour. Awesome. My stomach rumbled in agreement. I decided to plop on my futon and wait, not wanting to bother Melinda again until I had to with the food. If I can win her over with a burger, maybe she’d join me in the hot tub. I wanted to spend more time with her, something that didn’t. I tapped my fingers against my thigh, waiting for the time to pass and started to wonder if this was the best idea, but something had to give with this relationship and what better way to a woman’s heart than a nice juicy burger?
I started to think about her in the hot tub and realized had no swimwear with me. I usually kept a pair in the drawer to enjoy the tub whenever I wanted, but here I was, without a pair.
