Aaron’s office was filled with an assortment of ski-themed items that gave it the vibe of a teenage boy’s bedroom. The shelves above the desk were crammed with action figures of skiers and snowboarders in various dynamic poses, while posters of skiers gliding down the snowy hills of Big Bear adorned the walls. There was even a massive mural of Aaron himself, captured midair while performing a trick on his snowboard, painted across the entire right wall.
I sat down in the seat across from the desk, unable to find words. His desk was cluttered with magazines, a couple of energy drink cans, and a half-eaten candy bar. His nameplate was off to the side, shoved aside by the clutter, but I could still read what it said.
Aaron Hartman.
I remembered seeing the same name on the front sign. It couldn’t just be a coincidence—he had to be related to the owner in some way.
Aaron sat down across from me, glancing at my résumé briefly before setting it aside next to his Snickers bar.
“So, Hope, we’re looking for someone to help guests get on and off the lifts and assist at our boutique where we sell Big Bear merchandise. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”
I nodded, trying not to be deterred by the fact that thisseventeen-year-old kid was determining my entire fate at the moment. “Absolutely. I think I could do a great job, and I’m a quick learner.”
“Perfect,” Aaron said, leaning back in his chair as he lifted his feet to rest on the desk. “You saw online that it said twenty-five dollars an hour, right?”
“Yes, I did. That’s actually one of the reasons I applied,” I admitted, glancing at his crossed feet and the brightly colored sneakers right in front of my face. I leaned back slightly.
Aaron chuckled. “I figured. Well, that rate is actually for employees who’ve been with us for five years or more. The owner just has us put it in the advertisement to get people to apply. So the starting wage is actually sixteen dollars an hour. I know it’s quite a difference, but there’s potential for raises over time.”
My face fell, and my hands balled into fists in my lap. Thankfully, the table blocked him from seeing my frustration. “Is the position even full-time?”
“Not exactly. We only need someone part-time at the moment. But there’s always a chance for more hours during our busy season.” He smiled confidently, like he really thought that was a bonus perk.
I sighed, realizing that this was most definitely not going to work for me. I stood up, fighting the urge to tell him to get his shoes off the desk like I was his mother. “I see. Well, I appreciate you taking the time to interview me. But I suggest that, for future applicants, you update your online advertisement and state exactly what you’re offering. Maybe more truthful advertising will help you find the right fit.”
Aaron frowned and finally removed his feet from the tabletop. “Are you sure you don’t want to think it over?”
The last thing I wanted or needed was to get involved in another family business. And the way the owner was allowing his son—or grandson, or nephew, or whoever this kid was—to run his interviews was a major red flag.
I gave a fake smile, no longer bothering to save face. I was officially bummed out. “I think I need something a bit more consistent right now. But thank you.”
Thank you for wasting my time, I wanted to add, but I refrained. I didn’t want to waste my breath either.
CHAPTER 6
“I’m doomed,” I said into the phone. I was wandering down the grocery store aisles, elbows braced on the cart handle, with my phone squished between my ear and shoulder.
“You’re not doomed,” Emily said. “It was just one job interview. I’m sure there will be more.”
“I’m telling you,” I insisted. “There are so few jobs here. I should’ve picked a different place. Mason has a safe house in Iowa. I wonder if that would’ve been better.”
“Ugh,” Emily said, and I could picture her shuddering on the other end of the line. “Trust me, you donotwant to go to Iowa. Too much corn.”
I sighed. “I think I romanticized the whole ‘run away to the mountains, escape the clinic, and write my book’ thing. I’m honestly about ready to give up.”
“And go back to the clinic? Hope, you just left. And you and I both know that wouldn’t be good for your health.”
“I’m fine. I haven’t had a panic attack in a few days.Maybe I’m cured.” Even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a complete and utter lie. Leaving my old environment had helped, but I felt like a ticking time bomb. I could feel it—my anxiety—lingering beneath the surface, waiting to be triggered.
“Your mind is still healing from everything that happened. It’s barely been three months since the incident with Dr. Pike. That’s not enough time to just get over it. What happens when something similar comes up or stirs the same feelings?”
“I don’t know—” I’d reached the ramen aisle and paused to evaluate the limited selection of packaged noodles. The grocery store was more like a mini-mart, and finding what I needed was proving difficult.
“You have to let yourself heal.”
I sighed, tossing ramen packets into my cart. It would all taste the same anyway.
“I’m trying.”
