Chapter 14 Not Just the Chalet Girl to Me #2
I don’t answer right away. I watch Camila play with her bra straps to coax more bucks out of the tourists.
The guys look like hungry hyenas with a juicy antelope in front of them, ready to pounce before too long.
Wyatt slides open one of the panoramic windows, a towel wrapped around his waist, the girl doesn’t leave his side.
He casts a brief glance at his sister, before turning away again with a neutral expression and reaching for an abandoned whiskey glass.
He gave up telling Camila what to do years ago.
“In their parents’ house,” I say before deciding to change the subject. I nod at the tray in her hands. “Coffee not enough for you?”
Paisley looks confused. She looks from Camila to her tray and frowns. “What do you mean?”
I grin. “You planning to pelt me with vomit-soaked paper towels?”
Now that Paisley appears to understand, her jaw tightens. She glares at me. “I just want to keep my job. That’s it.”
“Pretty nasty stuff,” I mutter.
Paisley snorts. “It’s your fault. If you wouldn’t throw these parties…”
“My life would be pretty boring.”
“No,” she hisses. “Then there’d be the slightest chance that we could get along while under the same roof.”
I put on an indifferent face. “Who says that I want to get along with you while under the same roof?”
She briefly gasps for air. And I have to admit that I feel that annoying stab, just like the last time I hurt her. But if I can’t get her out of my thoughts, maybe my assholishness will keep her away.
Paisley gets a hold of herself more quickly than I expected.
She flares her nostrils and turns away in order to fill up her tray with more glasses.
“You’re rotten, Knox. You hide off in that world of yours where you’re the snowboard king and everyone just kisses your feet.
And you throw one party after the other and get smashed.
” She shakes her head. “The way you act, people might think you don’t give a shit about anything.
You don’t give a shit about the people around you.
” She looks past me and then at the glass that I am in the process of filling halfway up with vodka.
“You don’t give a shit about yourself.” Her eyes turn into slits.
“What kind of game are you playing, wasting time to block out reality? The fact is, Knox, that you’re not going to get anywhere this way.
In sports or in life. But keep on doing it.
Go on getting drunk every night and growling at people who haven’t done anything to you. I think it’s a winning plan.”
It’s not the ice in my glass that causes me to shudder and my insides to go cold.
Her words hit home without me wanting them to…
Paisley has hit the nail on the head. It’s like she took a mirror and reflected my inner life back to me.
No one has ever taken me apart by being that open to my face.
I doubt that anyone beyond Wyatt and her have ever even noticed.
And that’s precisely what scares me. I don’t want someone to be able to see behind my facade.
I don’t want how broken I am on the inside to become obvious.
Everyone just needs to keep on thinking I’m living my take-it-easy life.
Knox, the snowboarder. Knox, the famous guy from Aspen.
Knox, who doesn’t have any concerns, doesn’t have any problems.
I live in the public eye. And so any tiny thing the press can pounce on is immediately made public. The idea that my past and somewhat fragile psyche could be a topic on everybody’s lips makes me cramp up. I feel nauseous.
Wyatt comes into my field of vision. He’s still got a towel draped around his waist and a drunken film over his eyes.
He lets out an unbelievable laugh and points at Paisley, who is balancing the tray in one hand while using the other to wipe a spot off the table. “She’s actually here.”
“Yeah,” I reply, the tone in my voice darker than I’d intended, but, according to Paisley, I don’t have myself under control. “I told you, she’s our new chalet girl.”
“Yeah, but…” Wyatt hiccups. The girl next to him chuckles, as if it was cute. I have no idea how Wyatt manages to make himself understood to all the women in his drunken state. “I thought you changed your mind and were firing her.”
Paisley stops. She stretches her shoulders and puts the rag down on the tray, then turns to Wyatt. I can see panic in her eyes. “Fire me? Because of…because of the coffee?”
“No.” Wyatt makes a gesture like he’s throwing something away. “Because you’re at iSkate. Knox doesn’t hire figure skaters.”
For a second my heart stops. I feel hot and cold and can hear my blood pounding in my ears.
Paisley looks from him to me and back. “Why not?”
“Wyatt, shut it.”
He meets my glance and immediately seems to grow clearer. At the very least he seems to understand what he’s just said, for he looks sorry. “Oh, man,” he says and rubs his forehead before turning to the girl next to him. “Let’s go upstairs, huh? I want to get rid of this towel.”
The girl giggles again and nods. She digs her nails into his arm, Wyatt shoots me another apologetic glance, and the two disappear up the steps.
Feeling Paisley looking at me, for a while I simply watch them go.
When I can no longer ignore it, I put the untouched vodka glass back down on the sideboard and wipe my damp hands off on my pants.
“I’m hitting the sack,” I say, without looking at her. All the same, I can sense her incredulous glance.
“For real? What about all the people?”
“Leave them alone. They’ll take off on their own.”
“You probably don’t believe that yourself.” Paisley’s eyes dart around taking in every guest. “It doesn’t look like any of them are going anywhere anytime soon. They’ll probably sleep here on the floor, as drunk as they are.”
The corner of my mouth twitches in amusement as I watch her glare at all the guests, half-speechless, half-raging. “Then let your temper go and toss them all out.” With a grin I give her a thumbs up. “I believe in you.”
“But…”
She doesn’t get any further, as I’ve already turned and am making my way up the steps.
And although I can’t see her physically anymore, her face burns in my mind.
Those slightly protruding ears, those great big eyes, her little rosebud-like mouth.
In truth, I’d love to turn around to get just one more look.
But I don’t.