I choked on a laugh. Opioid muffin was actually hilarious, and I clapped a hand over my mouth as I swallowed. “You’d need a lot of poppy seeds before it would even register on a tox screen.”
His grin widened; he was most definitely teasing me. “At least four to five muffins before the morphine metabolites would show up.”
I giggled, shocked at just how giddy I was upon seeing him again.Chill out, Hope. Act. Cooler.
I pointed at him with what remained of my muffin. “You’re in medicine. Bonnie at the diner may or may not have spilled that you are, in fact, Doctor Alarcón yesterday.”
“Ahhh, gossip spreads faster than skis on fresh powder in this town. You can pretty much find out anything if youspeak to the right person.” He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, a slight smile tugging at his lips. He was being deliberately vague, and it made me want to pry.
I opened my mouth to press further, but my phone buzzed in my bag. One glance at the time made my heart lurch. If I was sticking to the schedule I’d created in my head—the one that would allow me to mentally freak out in the parking lot thirty minutes before my interview—I needed to get going.
“Oh no. I’m going to be late.” I waved the muffin at him in farewell and hurried toward my car. “Rain check on the doctor thing, yeah?”
I heard him chuckle as I opened my car door and started to climb in.
“Good luck on your interview!” he called out to me just as I slammed the door. I waved at him and Luna as I sped off down my gravel driveway and into the trees.
Twelve gorgeous mountain views and sharp switchbacks later, I parked in front of Big Bear Resort’s five-star hotel, arriving exactly thirty-six minutes before my interview.
It was stunning. It was over forty stories high and had a luxury cabin vibe similar to Jay’s house. It was all dark-wood timbers, sparkling windows, and peaked beams. The giant sign displayed on a thick wooden backdrop and posted directly above the massive front entrance read:
Hartman’s Mountain Resort
I’d brought a book with me and decided to read a few chapters while I waited. My anxiety eased slightly by arriving early, but I couldn’t stop myself from glancing at the clock on my dashboard every minute or so.
I read a chapter or two, rather distractedly, until five minutes before my interview arrived.
Five minutes early was good, right?
I tucked my floppy, beat-up paperback into my purse, walked up the expertly landscaped front entrance of the resort, and breathed in the crisp mountain air. The smell of pine trees and fallen leaves calmed my nerves a bit.
Inside the hotel lobby, I saw bikers preparing to hit the mountain trails, couples heading toward the ski lift to admire the views, and families in luxury hotel robes and slippers heading to the pool. It felt relaxed and carefree—something I wasn’t used to. But I immediately liked it.
I headed toward the massive mahogany front desk, settled beneath another massive wooden sign that read:
CONCIERGE
“Can I help you?” the concierge woman asked.
“Yes, I have an interview with Aaron,” I replied.
“Are you Hope?” The woman continued clicking away on her computer.
“Yes, that’s me.”
She grabbed the phone receiver and pressed a few numbers. “Your interview is here.”
A few moments later, a young man, who couldn’t be older than seventeen, came sauntering out in tan shorts and a T-shirt. He had a friendly demeanor and an easy smile.
“Hi, Hope. Thanks for coming in,” Aaron said, extending his hand.
“Hi, thanks for having me,” I replied, returning his gesture. I’d been unsure of what exactly to wear, so I’d chosen slacks and a blouse to be safe, but now I felt overdressed.
He motioned for me to follow him. “Come this way; we can talk in my office.”
I was a little surprised that someone so young was interviewing me, but I remained open-minded as I followed him. Surely, he wouldn’t be the manager unless he was qualified.
But my open-mindedness quickly started to diminish when my eyes were drawn to the unusual office décor.
