“Or you could donate it to that monastery where you hid for all of those months.”
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“Yes, you were. You didn’t want to face what had happened, so you holed up at the monastery. I don’t blame you. I know you and Bruce were close.” The very way she said it seemed dismissive to Conrad. “But he’s gone, and he wouldn’t want you to implode like this.”
Conrad bit back an angry reply. “You knownothingabout him.”
“You hired me to manage your career, and I’m telling you that it isessentialfor you to do those interviews and appease your sponsors—unless you really are committed to destroying yourself.”
Was that what he was doing? Was he destroying himself?
Candace went back to reading headlines. “Oh, here’s another one. This is rich. ‘Harrison Conrad leaves climbing, takes ski patrol job.’”
How had that news gotten out already?
“I did take a ski patrol job. I start training next month.”
Silence.
“So, you’ve truly given up climbing?”
“I don’t know. I need an income while I figure things out.”
“See a shrink, for God’s sake. Get help.”
Conrad’s jaw went tight. “Now you’ve crossed a line. I pay you a lot of money to look out for my career interests, not to get involved in my personal life.”
“Okay. Well, here’s my career advice: Do the damned interviews!” She all but shouted at him. “You’ll earn more in two hours of doing that than an entire season of babysitting people on the slopes—and you’ll get these bastards off your back.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“As sure as I can be.” She paused for a moment. “I’m not your enemy, Conrad. I am trying to do what’s best for your career.”
“Fine. I’ll do an interview, butIwill choose the publication—not my sponsors and not you.”
“Okay, well, that’s progress.” At least somewhat placated, Candace changed the subject. “By the way, who is that woman—the one with the long, dark hair who keeps showing up on all the websites?”
“She’s none of anyone’s business.” Damned if he was going to let Kenzie get caught up in his shit.
“When I signed you, we talked about how it would be beneficial for you to date, or to at least be seen with, other high-profile climbers or models and actresses—women who could draw attention to you.”
“My love life isn’t part of your contract.” Conrad was done. “It’s been great talking with you. Let’s do it again soon.”
He ended the call, jammed his phone back into his jeans pocket, the relaxed feeling he’d carried inside him since last night gone.
Well, fuck.
He cleaned up the breakfast dishes and showered, willing his frustration to wash away. He had a list of things to get through—and a noon sex date with Kenzie.
That, at least, was something he was looking forward to.
He registered online for the EMT refresher course that Hawke taught at the firehouse, then filled out all the paperwork for Ski Scarlet—a W-4, an I-9, emergency contacts, a form stating he’d read the resort’s rules regarding discrimination and sexual harassment. It all felt surreal.
What the hell are you doing?
He didn’t have anything against working for Ski Patrol, but it wasn’t what he’d thought he’d be doing at the age of thirty-five.
What do you want now?
