Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“NO. FUCKING. WAY.”
Noah crossed his arms, biceps popping out of his flannel sleeves like granite boulders. His steel-blue eyes bore into us like we’d just propositioned him for a threesome. Which, to be honest, would have been a lot less awkward and intimidating.
As soon as Maya and I hung up from the Zoom call, she’d let it all out.
She told me how Noah and his crew ran the Adventure Center, the log cabin barn-like structure where Al dropped me off my first night.
It was part of the original lodge, she explained, and handled all the “authentic Colorado” guest experiences.
Hiking, rafting, horseback riding, the works.
Needless to say, it didn’t quite fit the LuxeLife brand. So once their contract was up … bye-bye Adventure Center. And apparently Noah and his friends would go bye-bye with it.
“This was Victoria’s idea?”
“Actually, it was Sam’s,” Maya shot back.
Thanks Maya. Sure, I deserved partial blame for the whole authenticity angle, but getting up close and personal with Mr. Mc’Grumpy Flannel Frump was definitely not part of my vision.
Unless you count the vision I had in the tub.
And the dreams I had after getting out of the tub.
And several dozen random imagination malfunctions since.
Noah glared over at me again.
“Just hear me out.” Maya held up her hands, either as a pleading gesture, or because she was trying to stop Noah from tackling me. “This is your chance. Show Victoria that this place still has value. Generate interest. Grow bookings. Increase revenue.”
I kept my mouth shut. Before we borrowed one of the resort’s pimped-out four-wheel-drive golf carts and drove down there, Maya and I agreed that she would do all the talking.
My job was simply to stand there and keep quiet.
And I fully intended to execute my half of the plan flawlessly.
Plus, Yeti was staring at me and drooling, so I didn’t want to make any sudden movements and set her off.
“I think this could really be helpful for everyone,” Maya pleaded. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“No?” Noah spun his boot in the gravel. “Cause it sounds like the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”
Maya leveled her index finger at my nose. “She’s on our side. Sam wants to show real Colorado experiences, not that crap they’re peddling up at the resort.”
“You mean the crap Victoria hired her to promote?” Noah glared at me like I was personally responsible for LuxeLife screwing him over. “Whatever Samantha thinks she wants, she won’t find it here.”
“Noah, please.” Maya chased after him as he stomped toward his hunk-of-junk Jeep.
From across the parking lot, I watched Noah and Maya angry-whisper, clearly about me. Every couple of words, Noah’s face would get red, and he’d jerk his arm in my direction like he was chopping wood.
“You’re back,” said a woman’s voice behind me. I turned and saw Jenn come out of the log building. Luckily, muck-free.
A wilderness-y looking Latino dude joined her. He wore half a wetsuit, the top half peeled back over his torso like a banana. Even from a distance, I could tell he smelled like river mud.
“That her?” asked wetsuit dude.
“That’s the one.” Jenn’s lips twisted into a smirk.
“Doesn’t look very influential to me.”
They walked over, studying every inch of me along the way.
“New shoes?” asked Jenn.
“Yes, they are,” I said, flashing my best influencer smile. Noah already hated me, so I was determined not to make enemies of his friends. “Maya let me pick them from the boutique.”
“Boutique?” asked wetsuit dude.
“Yes, at the resort.”
“The resort. Right.” Wetsuit dude was now the third person who’d pronounced “resort” like “bear-poop-on-the-bottom-of-my-shoe.”
I stuck one of my legs out and twisted my foot back and forth so Jenn could see the colored pattern on the laces. They really drew out the orchid purple color of my puffy vest. And the red matched my lip gloss perfectly.
Nothing bonds two women faster than new footwear.
Except in Colorado, apparently.
“Nice.” Jenn’s tone didn’t match the word. “This is Diego.” She jabbed her thumb at wetsuit dude. “Diego, this is Samantha.”.
“My friends call me Sam.”
“I’m sure they do, Samantha” said Diego.
Across the parking lot, Maya and Noah were still engaged in robust conversation, with more grumpy looks and wood-chopping-esqe finger pointing. The three of us watched the back and forth like a high stakes tennis match, where the losing player would be forced to watch more tennis.
“So.” I said, pulling their attention back to me. “LuxeLife wants me to get some content of all the stuff you all do.” If Noah wasn’t going to cooperate, I’d just have to go around him.
“Content?” asked Diego.
“Stuff?” asked Jenn.
“You know, like …” I gestured at Diego’s half on, half off wetsuit, and the still dripping life vest in his hand. “Videos of river whatchahoosies. And photos of horsey thingamabobs.”
“River whatchahoosies?” asked Diego.
“Horsey thingamabobs?” asked Jenn.
I reapplied my most influential influencer smile. “Maybe while Noah and Maya are sorting out the details, the two of you could show me around.”
“The only details those two are working out is which one of you Noah is going to drop off the mountain first,” said Diego. “Besides, I’ve got a river whatchahoosie I need to get to.” Diego headed for a truck attached to a trailer filled with rafts.
“And I’d rather go shovel out some more horse thingamabobs.” Jenn headed around the back of the Adventure Center, toward the stables.
“Well, that went better than expected,” I said to Yeti.
Woof.
“Good wolf-dog. Nice wolf-dog.” I said, pulling out my influencer smile again. I hoped it worked on wild creatures. “Noah didn’t tell you to eat me, did he?”
WOOF!
“That sounded like a yes.”
“Hey!” Noah whistled one of his mountain-man calls to get our attention. “Stop scaring her and get over here.”
“Yeah, Yeti.” I wagged my finger at Noah’s pet. “It’s not nice to scare people.”
“I wasn’t talking to the dog,” Noah growled. “I was talking to you.”
As soon as I stepped inside, I saw Maya wasn’t kidding when she said the Adventure Center didn’t fit the LuxeLife brand. It looked like a dusty, moldy, grime-covered barn. Because it was. The air smelled like wet dog and burnt coffee.
“Well, this is quaint.” Legitimately, though, the place was a content goldmine, not because it was aesthetically pleasing. Or pleasing in any other way. But because it was real. Authentic. The very thing Victoria kept harping about.
Faded photographs of smiling tourists lined the unpainted walls, holding up fish or paddling on the river. Mismatched chairs surrounded a table spread with laminated maps. Brochures, pamphlets, and gear piled up on the counter. It was basically the mountain barn version of my apartment.
“Can I take some pictures?” At least there weren’t any decapitated animal heads wearing ski goggles on the wall.
“Better do it quick,” said Noah. “Before you help LuxeLife destroy it all.”
“Noah Barrett, stop.” Maya helped herself to a cup of coffee, then propped an elbow on the counter. She seemed right at home here. “This isn’t Sam’s fault, and you know it.”
Noah crossed his arms again, his go-to power pose, apparently. “Right. Just following orders.” Yeti flopped down near his feet, eyeing my new boots as if she had plans for them later.
I pulled out my phone and started documenting the space, ignoring Noah’s eyes as they followed my every move.
I captured a shot of an ancient fishing rod mounted on the wall.
A collection of river stones labeled with dates stretching back decades.
A wall of Polaroids showing what must have been regular customers returning year after year.
“There’s some petrified bear scat in one of the classrooms in back. You want to take a picture of that too?”
“It would certainly capture the essence of the place, so sure.”
Maya cleared her throat. “Okay enough. Both of you. Noah, let’s just cut the shit, okay? Your contract with LuxeLife is just about over. When it ends, Victoria’s gonna come in here with a bulldozer and level this place to the ground. Probably to make room for a salt cave and an oxygen bar.”
“Sounds about right.” Noah’s face got even grumpier, which I didn’t think was physically possible.
“But …” Maya made sure he was looking at her.
“But what?”
“Victoria said I could make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“A deal to save your Adventure Center.”
“Victoria agreed to that? Because the one and only time she walked in here, she said this was, and I quote, ‘a tired old relic that reeks of mediocrity and boy scout energy.’ Or something like that.”
“Yeah, that was pretty much it, exactly.” Maya nodded.
“That sounds like Victoria,” I agreed.
Noah shot me another glare.
“I think I can convince her to reconsider another contract renewal,” said Maya.
“You think.”
“If this works. If you play nice.”
“Sounds like a deal with the devil.”
“Victoria isn’t the devil,” I interrupted. “She’s just a smart businesswoman who recognizes a good opportunity when she sees it.”
“I wasn’t talking about Victoria.” Noah redirected his glare back to me. But I could see the gears turning in his head. Was it possible? Was he actually considering this insane idea?
“Fuck.” Noah ran a calloused hand through his hair, which somehow ended up looking even better than before. “What would I have to do with this thing, anyway? If I agreed to it. Which, to be clear, I have not.”
Recognizing the crack in Noah’s shield of stubbornness, Maya grabbed the bull by the horns. Or, in this case, the grumpy mountain man by the flannel. “You and Sam would collaborate on an Authentic Colorado Adventure series. Hiking, climbing, rafting, the works.”
“The works?,” I asked. “Um … I don’t remember agreeing to the works.”
Maya shushed me. “Showcase what makes the Adventure Center special. Through Sam’s platforms.”
“Platforms?”