Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
HADLEY
The next morning, it takes me a moment to orient myself. I spent all of yesterday lying on my couch, so I somewhat expect to find myself there instead of in my bed, but then the memories come flooding back.
True to his word, Brooks was still sitting beside me when I woke up from my cold-induced nap last night. It was almost nine, and I wanted nothing more than to crawl beneath the covers and go back to sleep. He helped me to my room without hesitation.
It felt as if no time had passed, and we fell right back into old habits. When I was sick in high school, Brooks used to sneak out of class and spend the day with me in bed. He almost always wound up getting sick right after, but we didn’t care.
Rolling onto my side, I spot a note sitting on my nightstand. It’s written in Brooks’s familiar scrawl.
There’s leftover soup in your fridge, in case you decide to take another sick day. Knowing you, though, you won’t. So I asked the kitchen to track you down with room service for lunch.
Let me know if you need me. I’m there.
B
Let me know if you need me . Not need anything , but need me .
Even after I mauled him and then immediately told Thiago we were just old friends catching up, even after I’ve avoided him at every turn, he’s still offering to help me.
I only let my cold-addled brain dwell on his words for a minute. Just one minute to acknowledge the way he’s willing to take care of me, even though I don’t deserve it. Then I get up to start my day.
Although I don’t feel half as dizzy this morning as I did yesterday, I know I could probably do with another day of rest. But that’s not in the cards. I’m determined to find Sheila’s replacement—not to mention the other employees who left in her wake. The only way to do that is by interviewing new candidates. The sooner, the better.
Thiago offered to do today’s interview on his own, but no offence to him, he has no idea what he’s looking for. I’m not sure I do either. But I’ll know it when I see it.
I find my phone sitting next to where the note had been. Of course, it’s dead. I plug it in before moving on to my usual morning routine. Luckily, I still managed to wake up with enough time to spare.
Once I’m dressed and my makeup is done, hopefully hiding the fact that I’m feeling under the weather, I head back to my bedroom.
My phone vibrates, coming to life now that it’s partially charged. A handful of older notifications light up my screen, but the text from Brooks—complete with his old contact name—steals all of my attention.
Brooks
How are you feeling?
I practically have to wrestle the butterflies in my stomach into a cage. He’s only asking because you looked like you were an extra in some zombie movie yesterday . It’s the decent thing to do, and Brooks is a decent guy.
I almost snort out loud. Understatement of the century .
Better. Nothing a bottle of Buckley’s can’t fix.
I’m surprised when a text comes back almost immediately. Like he was sitting there with his phone in hand, waiting for me to reply. It’s silly—I know he wasn’t. But tell that to the aforementioned herd of butterflies.
Brooks
That shit is nasty.
It lets me be a functioning human. It can taste however it wants.
Brooks
I guess there’s no hope of me convincing you to take another day off?
A valiant effort, but no.
I head out to the living room to grab my bag, but I stop short just outside my bedroom. I usually keep my space neat, though things were in slight disarray when I went to sleep last night. Except you wouldn’t even be able to tell. Because Brooks tidied .
And sitting on my small dining table is a bright red poinsettia. A plant which was, as far as I can recall, not there yesterday.
While my parents were never big on Christmas, my one set of grandparents used to be. When I was little, I’d go to their house one evening mid-November and help them decorate their tree. My grandmother always had a poinsettia sitting in the middle of her kitchen table.
He remembered .
My throat tightens, but I ignore it. It’s because of my cold, that’s all. Definitely not because I’m feeling emotional.
Thank you for the poinsettia.
And for yesterday. I’m still sorry I bothered you.
Brooks
You can call me anytime, Hads. You know that.
At one point, I had known that. Brooks had been my first call, my safe space. But it’s been years. Still, he genuinely means what he says, and that’s intimidating as hell. So I do the only thing I know how—deflect.
Where did you even find a poinsettia on such short notice?
Brooks
I went to the florist in Sugar Peak this morning.
It’s only 8:30. What time did you go?!
Brooks
Around 6. She was there unloading her delivery and took pity on me.
I shake my head, but I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips.
You always have been able to charm your way into anything, huh?
Brooks
What can I say? It’s a gift.
And a beautiful curse.
Despite feeling miserable, even with cold medication running through my veins, I thought today might turn out alright. Except yet another interview is a bust, and now I’m in a foul mood, made worse by the fact I can hardly breathe through my nose.
I groan, leaning back in my chair in the office. “Are we ever going to find someone?”
Thiago chuckles. “This is only our third interview. Have faith.”
That’s easy for him to say. Although Thiago certainly isn’t like some guys who do shit all and leave everything up to their employees, there’s a lot that goes into running this place—and all his other business ventures—that he doesn’t know about. Because I take care of it.
When he decided to take this resort on, it was with the intention of having a place to relax. He’s already doing more than he was supposed to, helping me find a new manager. The whole purpose of my being here is to take the weight of this place off his shoulders, and I’m happy to do it. I won’t deny that I’m compensated well for it.
Thiago turns to look out the window, admiring the snow as it comes down. When I’m inside and warm, it’s easy to forget about the sub-zero temperatures and enjoy the beautiful scene.
“You seem distracted today,” I say, eyeing my boss.
He straightens, spinning to face me again. “Distracted?”
“Yes.” I raise a brow. “I can continue conducting the interviews by myself if you’re preoccupied.”
“And what would I be preoccupied with?”
“I don’t know, you seemed pretty fazed when I caught you in here with Opal earlier.” I shrug. ‘“She’s cute.”
When I arrived in the office for our interview, I found Thiago speaking with one of the resort’s bakers. I’ve spoken with Opal a couple times since she was hired, but I was surprised to find her with my boss. Well, I guess he’s technically her boss, too.
Thiago waves a dismissive hand. “You should be resting,” he says, clearly trying to change the subject .
“Is that an order?” I ask.
“Yes. I don’t want to see you working until at least tomorrow.”
“Fine,” I say with a huff.
He smiles, ignoring my attitude. “Have a good afternoon, Hadley. Feel better.”
Once I gather my things, I start making my way back to my suite. Putting on my pajamas and crawling into bed sounds heavenly right now. I don’t want to think about dinner. Though after the lunch I had, I don’t even feel hungry.
Because the kitchen did track me down at lunch, as Brooks had requested. And after a plate of gourmet grilled cheese and a bowl of tomato soup, I’m liable to be satisfied until breakfast.
Pushing inside my suite, I set my bag down by the door and kick off my shoes. And because today has been somewhat crappy, and because I’m hopped up on cold medicine, I decide to pull out my phone. Temporary insanity is the only explanation for what I do next.
Having a bad day. Say something to make me feel better.
I chew on my bottom lip as I wait for him to respond. Fuck, why did I say that? There has to be a way to unsend a message . As I fumble with my phone, those three dots pop up, indicating that he’s typing.
I let out a relieved breath when his message comes through.
Brooks
What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?
What?
Brooks
Frostbite.
Is that supposed to be funny?
Brooks
I know you laughed, Hads. You always laugh at my jokes.
Despite myself, I do laugh. Not because the joke is particularly funny, but because it’s Brooks. From the time I met him, he has always been able to make me smile, even on days I don’t feel like it.
I sit down on the love seat, needing to take a minute when my head rushes with another bout of dizziness. Leaning back against the cushions, I read his next message.
Brooks
Sorry you’re having a bad day.
Not your fault. That honour belongs to my immune system.
Brooks
Need me to bring you dinner?
Despite my earlier thoughts about not needing food, part of me wants to see him. I know I probably shouldn’t, but admittedly, I miss this ease between us. This comforting familiarity.
Yes, please.
Brooks
I’ll be there in an hour.
Grabbing the blanket draped over the back of the love seat, I settle it over my lap and curl up against the cushions, closing my eyes. And for the first time in what seems like forever, I feel content.