6. Carter
Chapter six
Carter
S taring out the window, I take in the hum of activity before me. Lifts spin, ferrying hikers toward the peak. A group of kids pedal along in a single file line behind their instructor, Blake I think, learning the proper form to climb over obstacles like rocks. And as excited as I am to see the resort in action, there's still far less activity than we’d usually see in winter.
At least it isn’t empty.
At least we have business. It’s something.
A wave of anxiety washes over me as I question how long I’ll be able to enjoy this serene view. All I’ve wanted since that blown knee ended my racing career is to work in the industry, making a living off the slopes I gravitated to as a kid. Slopes that took me away from the high society life I felt out of place in.
To me, the mountains have always been a refuge. While my family’s wealth might’ve given me a foot in the door, there’s still the issue of turning a profit. Unless I bring in more people, even during the summer, that’s not going to happen. So far, I haven’t come up with a way to get more traction in the off-season without threatening the homey feel that makes this place so unique. And if the town didn’t feel suspicious of me already, or hate me in the case of Sloan’s brother-in-law, they absolutely would if I destroyed their quaint little oasis.
I knew this venture wouldn’t be easy. Living your dream never is. I sure as hell didn’t expect the solutions to be so elusive though. Who could’ve guessed I’d have the funds needed to implement the first wave of improvements, but some tiny animal would block my path?
Contrary to what my attitude suggests, I’m not looking to run wild developing every last inch of this place to make it profitable. I am, however , looking to make strategic improvements and this rodent is quickly becoming the bane of my existence. Who new marmots killed dreams?
The soft click of my office door alerts me to Sloan’s presence. It puts an immediate end to my depressive spiral before I can hate marmots any more than I already do. Why is that? Why does the stress bearing down on me dissipate the moment he slips into the room? He hasn’t even started the massage yet.
Despite knowing he’s here, I don’t turn away from the window. I’m too afraid the sight of him will loosen my tongue, and he doesn’t need to know the burdens I face.
No one does.
The table creaks softly as he unfolds it. With his attention focused on his preparations, I take the towel he’s set on the desk and retreat to my bathroom to strip, ignoring the way my skin seems to crackle in anticipation of his touch. Taking a steadying breath, I stride into the room with more authority than I feel.
“I take it you haven’t solved your issues with the resort plans.” He pats the massage table, inviting me to slip under the sheet. It’s not a sexual gesture, but the way his green eyes track me suggest he too is having trouble keeping things professional. A bit of tension eases from my shoulders. It’s comforting to know I’m not the only one .
“Why do you say that?” I keep my expression blank as I stride toward him.
“You look just as stiff as the last time I saw you, and that’s what was bothering you then.”
Stiff …That’s one way to put it. I’m not surprised he noticed that detail. When it comes to doing his job Sloan’s thorough in his observations.
“Still haven’t come up with a solution.” I settle into position with my head resting on the little doughnut, grateful that the view of the floor keeps me from looking at him.
Until today, I haven’t laid eyes on him since that glimpse at the restaurant. He’d been on my mind that whole day, so much so, I wondered if I willed him into being there. Obviously, that’s not a thing, but that didn’t stop me from believing it for the few seconds it took to register that we were in the same room.
Seeing him caught me so off guard I forgot why I’d gone in. All I could do was stare at his wide, green eyes, while he did the same to me. It wasn’t until a woman blocked my view with my order that I snapped out of my stupor and paid the bill.
I’ve been seeing those eyes in my mind constantly ever since, and it makes me wonder if keeping this appointment was a bad idea. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to cancel it. He’s one out of a handful of people that give me the benefit of the doubt in this town, the others being Maddox and Janice. While I have a soft spot for both, neither make my chest tingle when they look at me. Not like he does.
Though, I suspect the moment Sloan touches me, my body will have the same reaction it’s had every other time his skilled fingers have kneaded my muscles. And stiff doesn’t even begin to describe it.
Clearly, neither of us have an issue with it—he’s still coming back. Hell, I’m not even embarrassed by my raging boner making an appearance in our weekly meetings. Racing uniforms aren’t modest, so in a manner of speaking I’m used to being on display. How much of me is on display was a bit unnerving at first, but after catching a few not-so-subtle glances from Sloan I’ve concluded I didn’t have anything to be embarrassed about.
Of course, that means continuing with these massages is reckless at best, but talking to him is the highlight of my week, and I’m not willing to give that up. Even if it leaves me wanting more than I can have.
Dammit, why does he have to work for me?
I can’t get involved with an employee. I shouldn’t, anyway. And even if he were interested in exploring the chemistry we have, I doubt he’d consider taking another job just so we could do that. Thank God the chemistry I feel doesn’t seem to offend him, otherwise I’m sure I’d have heard from HR long ago.
“Carter?”
“Hmm?” My name on his tongue snaps me back to the present.
“Should I work without talking? You don’t seem interested in conversation today.” I hear his palms sliding together as he coats them in oil.
“No, I like when you talk. I didn’t mean to drift off. What were you saying?”
“I asked what your team says about the resort plans? Have they offered any suggestions?”
“What team?” My breath gets momentarily trapped in my lungs when his hands settle on my shoulders. That first touch gets me every time.
“The people who work for you.” Strong fingers work the knot at the base of my neck, pushing out the stiffness and replacing it with a soothing warmth .
“Just because they work for me doesn’t make them my team.” My eyes drift closed on their own accord.
“Of course, it does.” His hands glide over my shoulders, alternately kneading and smoothing the tightness away. “A group of people working toward the same outcome are essentially teammates. You all have the same goal, right?”
“That’s simplifying it,” I say to the floor. “No one in this town wants me here or thinks I can do this job. I’m not even sure my father thinks so. Why would I involve them, even if they want the same thing?”
“I don’t think that’s true. I think the town is scared. They don’t like being in the dark and have no idea what your plans are. Maybe if they knew they’d help find a solution.” His touch softens, like he’s ready to jump back if I take offense to that statement.
Coming from anyone else I probably would, but since his tone doesn’t hold any malice, I don’t.
“Sorry. It wasn’t my place to say that.” His apology interrupts my train of thought.
“Don’t be. I can handle hearing a different perspective, I’m just not sure I buy it. People already have it in their heads that I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Did you ever consider they’re leery because they don’t know you, like who you are as a person?” Tentative fingers travel up my neck and tunnel into my hair, gaining strength as they massage my scalp. It’s all I can do not to moan.
“What does knowing me have to do with working for me?” My voice echoes around me, husky. Distracted. I’m not sure if that’s because I’m talking through a hole in the table, or because his fingers are like magic .
“Well.” My head bobs on the cushion as his fingers grip my scalp. “Every decision you make has the ability to affect the entire town since the resort is the largest employer here. People want to know that you understand that. When they see you as some overlord ruling from his mountain perch instead of getting to know them, they’re naturally going to question whether you’re plotting something that will change the way they live.”
His overdramatic description makes me chuckle. “The only thing I’m plotting is how to make this place succeed. And since my father is threatening to sell my dream to the highest bidder if I don’t reach profitability according to his timetable, I’m more inclined to focus on work than making friends.”
I wasn’t planning to go into that level of detail, but I can’t seem to keep my guard up around this man.
“Selling the resort?” Sloan gasps and his hands go still in my hair. “What?”
I lift my head and twist to face him. Slowly, he releases his grip and his fingers slip down my neck, coming to rest between my shoulder blades.
“Why do you think I’m here? The resort was dying, barely making money, and I can’t make the improvements it desperately needs to stay open because of some animal habitat. If I hadn’t come in, I guarantee some international corporation would’ve bought it and commercialized the hell out of it.”
“You aren’t trying to do that?” He gapes, fingers slack with surprise as he lowers his hands to his sides.
“Hell no. I trained here as a kid, and it was my favorite place on Earth. It was so different from the places my family preferred, the ones where everyone dresses like they ski but never set foot on the mountain. ”
A sad smile pulls at the corner of Sloan’s lip. Growing up in Vermont, he knows exactly what I’m referring to; people whose sole focus is to look the part because it enhances their social status, not because they enjoy the sport or the weather or even the town.
Those visitors bring in much-needed tourist dollars, so they aren’t all bad. But when they start buying up real estate, as they often do because it looks good in their investment portfolio, they inflate the prices and make it impossible for the full-time residents to compete for housing. That’s when towns become a status symbol instead of a retreat. I don’t want that to happen here. I can see Sloan doesn’t either, so I continue.
“Katah Vista had an elite program, in terms of skill, not cost. To the kids in it, I wasn’t Charles Quinn’s son, I was any other kid with talent. We didn’t get off the mountain a lot because we were so busy training, but my memories of the town are similar. Ordinary people just enjoying life and where they live. There’s something about this place that’s different from anywhere else. People live in the moment here. My family wasn’t like that, but I got a glimpse of it in this town. That's why I came back.”
The smile on his face now is wistful. “It’s why I moved here, too. It feels like a simpler way of life.”
“It does. I want things to stay that way, but that’s going to be hard since the town and the mountain are so closely linked. I know the town can’t survive without the resort, but the resort won’t exist without the tourists to sustain it. I’m trying to figure out a way to meet in the middle, before my dad pulls the plug.”
“That’s why you haven’t said anything to your employees,” he whispers as realization dawns.
“I didn’t want to get people’s hopes up about a solution that couldn’t work, and I was right not to. The environmental report I needed to move forward with an expansion didn’t come out in our favor. Now I’m back to square one.” I drop my head back on the table, too exhausted and ashamed to wait for his reaction.