Don’t tell anyone outside of work your real name.
What if I didn’t tell anyoneatwork my real name either? Upper-level management aside, because I’ll need their help, what if I could take a look around, truly get a sense for what the employees like and dislike, without them being worried about kissing my ass?
Suddenly enthralled by this idea, I pull my laptop out and begin firing off emails, the first of which is to Dahlia, because my siblings are right: she’s notthe one.
None of them seem to be.
The three women I dated before Dahlia were no better, leading me to feel that maybe the partnership and friendship with a spouse I crave so much isn’t meant for me.
Chapter 2
Zeke
Thank God for stage makeup. It’s the only stuff thick enough to cover the fingerprints on my neck. I’m not even sure what I said last night that sent Derek into a rage, but whatever it was made him mad enough to leave a mark before leaving the apartment.
He didn’t come back, and I’m curious to know what lie he’ll tell about where he spent the night. Not that I mind his absence, of course.
My features distort into a wince as I blot the fingertip-shaped bruises with the makeup sponge.
Thankfully, as the host of Summit, the mountaintop resort at Ricochet Ridge, I stand outside all day, so I’m always covered from head to toe; the makeup is just an extra precaution. My coworkers—at least the ones who see through Derek’s bullshit—are already vocal about how much they dislike my boyfriend, and I’m tired of getting lectures about how I can do better.
Maybe I can, but it’s not that simple.
As humans, we often judge others’ choices based on options those people never had. I’ve lost count of the number oftimes those at Summit have told me to ‘just leave.’ But where am I supposed to go? ‘Save more money.’ But where am I supposed to get that money? ‘Work more.’ There are only so many hours in a week, and I already work most of them. And my favorite, that only Rebecca has ever said to me—because she’s the only one who knows how bad it really is—‘Stand up for yourself.’ But that’ll only make things worse, and for now, I’m stuck.
I’ve already been homeless during a Montana winter, and I’m not eager to repeat the experience.
In fact, that’s how Derek and I ended up together in the first place. Desperation and the instinct to survive backed me into a corner I’d never have chosen otherwise.
When I met Derek, I was living in my car and sneaking into the theater on the coldest nights, seeking refuge. Montana winters can be brutal, and there was a good chance I was going to freeze to death before the spring returned. My parents were both gone; I had no one left, and at eighteen, there was no system to take me in. I had nothing and nowhere to go.
It’s been four years since Derek saved my life and put a roof over my head. He offered me what I’d needed most, and that’s not something I take lightly…even if accepting help doesn’t come easily for me.
Setting the sponge down, I open the Messages app on my phone only to see he hasn’t responded to the last several I sent. Briefly, I think about sending another, but by now, he’s either asleep or at work, and I don’t want to risk waking the beast.
Thanks to last night’s rough handling, my body protests as I continue getting ready, so it takes me a lot longer than usual to get dressed. My mind is still reeling, trying to figure out where I went wrong, but I come up empty.
I’m so out of it, I forget my coffee as I step into the frigid morning air, praying my car starts as I head to work. The thingis more beat up than I am, but it’s all I have left from my life before Derek, and I’m honestly not sure if that’s a good thing.
Fifteen minutes later, my old silver Camry slides into my usual spot in the employee lot of the Ricochet Ridge Ski Resort, and I make my way to the gondola that will carry me up to my destination.
Other than the theater’s stage, the restaurant is my favorite place to be. High above the tree line, with a view that stretches for miles upon miles on a clear day, reminding me that life is bigger than this mountain town, and somewhere in the distance, my dreams are waiting for me to grab them.
It’s a pleasant ride up this morning. Still cold, but the gondola cabins are heated, and it isn’t too windy yet, so the car doesn’t swing too violently. Some days it feels like falling is inevitable.
As I exit the gondola and make my way into the small employee lounge at the back of the restaurant, Rebecca greets me cheerfully.
“Morning, Zeke!”
I grab my manuscript and my phone from my bag, shove my backpack into my locker, and prepare to take up my post out front.
“Hey, Becs.” I force a smile, but she sees right through it, and I brace myself for what’s coming.
“You look like you didn’t get much sleep,” she notes.
Rebecca is technically my manager, but we were friends—I use the term very loosely since Derek doesn’t really allow me tohavefriends—before she got promoted.
“I was up late rehearsing lines,” I lie with a tight smile.
