Chapter 2
Chapter two
Hayden
It takes some extra oomph to yank open the door in the frigid air, and I make a mental note to add handicap-accessible, automated doors to my wish list of building improvements.
Not that there’s any plan in place for said improvements, but a guy can dream, right?
Hell, the fact I’m here at all suggests dreams can come true, so why stop?
I make my way to my office, flipping on lights as I go, and trying to ignore the drab walls that have a yellowish tinge under the fluorescent light.
My title may have been upgraded with this job, but my surroundings…
not so much. On my first day, I wondered if the reason I got this job was less about my qualifications and more about my willingness to work in less-than-ideal conditions.
Not that this place is a dump, it’s just dated.
Now, I think I’m here because the owner, Carter, saw a little of himself in me.
That’s what I like to tell myself, anyway.
Like me, Carter is young for the position he holds, which makes him all the more determined to succeed.
I have that same passion, so while there are undoubtedly more experienced people out there, I’m the one with the job, which is why I’ve got my running wish list. I figure if he granted the first one, hiring me, maybe he’ll grant more.
Though doors that work are hardly a big ask for a facility that serves people with disabilities.
Collapsing into my office chair I switch on the computer to start going over the day’s schedule before the first guests arrive.
We don’t have as many appointments as I’d like—or as many as I’m used to at the resort I came from out east—but six is a decent number considering this is the first year Katah Vista is offering adaptive instruction.
And if I’m being honest, fewer clients are probably better at this stage.
Normally, it takes months to prepare for the season, and I’ve been here all of ten days.
I did what I could before making the cross country move to Katah Vista, so it’s not like I just hung a sign on the door saying we’re open and sat around waiting for people to show, but there’s a limit to what you can do remotely.
It hasn’t been the ideal start, but I believe in the program, and I know I can make it work.
So what if I haven't been able to hire a full staff yet? Do we really need someone to tend the desk on day one? Okay… bad example for optimism's sake. The point is, there’s nothing wrong with starting small. We can build something incredible here, and I’m willing to bet if we provide a great experience people will overlook the fact we need a facelift.
This building may not have been designed to cater to people with disabilities, but it’s got good bones.
There’s a large lobby with comfortable seating, a handful of offices behind the front desk area, and it’s even got locker rooms on the far side of the lobby.
And the best part, it’s technically ADA compliant, so even if it doesn’t have the latest bells and whistles it meets the requirements our guests will need.
Besides, the building isn’t even the draw. The mountain is, and I’ve lined up a few people to help ensure we deliver a good experience for anyone who wants to ride it.
It’ll take a few years, but I'm determined to make this one of the best adaptive programs in the country, and when I put my mind to it, I can move mountains. Ski pun intended.
After adding lift tickets to each guest folder, I take the stack to the reception area so they’re ready for the instructors to distribute.
While filing the last one in the daily organizer, a frigid blast of air rushes past my neck, and I look up to find Carter dusting a few flakes of snow off his shoulder.
He steps inside for the first time since I started working here, which has me a little on edge.
I think it’s the suit. I've never liked suits. They seem stuffy.
“Did I forget about a meeting?” I hold my breath as he approaches.
“No. I wanted to see how you’re settling in. Do you have everything you need?” He gives me a warm smile, and my earlier anxiety evaporates.
I pull on my lip as I look around the room, mentally cataloging what’s been done and what’s left to do.
“That doesn’t look good.” His brow furrows as he watches me. “What are we missing?”
“Not missing per se, just things I’d like to add.”
“Such as?” He leans a hip against the counter and crosses his arms in front of his chest, managing to look casual yet authoritative at the same time.
“More adaptive equipment, a resort-issue coat for the instructors, little things that will make us look more professional.”
“You mean the orange vest that looks like it belongs on a construction crew isn’t a good look for the instructors?”
I’m not expecting the joke, so I stand there blinking with my mouth hanging open like an idiot until he speaks again.
“We both know this program is a work in progress. You’ve got a great vision, and I want to help you get there, but I need to show the board it’s viable before they’ll commit.
If there’s something you need to operate, I’ll make sure you have it, but some of the bells and whistles to take this to the next level will have to wait until they agree to finance it. ”
“You mean they aren’t financing it?” I cock my head to the side in the universal WTF expression? “Then how…”
“Let’s just say I see this as a good investment. So, how’s it going so far?”
Still a little baffled by that statement, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Pretty well, all things considered.”
“All things?” He lifts a brow artfully. It makes him look more amused than irritated, which is a good thing considering that probably came off as an insult.
“I just meant we’ve come a long way in a few days.”
“If I remember correctly, the few services we’re offering are just a fraction of what you proposed to initiate. You consider that coming a long way?” The tilt of his head suggests he’s not criticizing, just curious.
“I consider having guests lined up for those services a few weeks after we started advertising them a big step. We went from zero to fully booked almost instantly.”
He glances at the folders lined up on the reception desk. “Six is fully booked?”
“For the size of our current staff, yes.” And by staff, I mean two instructors and me…
I won't lie, knowing this program isn’t “board approved” has me feeling less confident about that number than I did a few minutes ago, but that doesn’t change the fact a lot of progress was made in a short amount of time.
Hopefully Carter can’t see me worrying the inside of my lip as I remind myself of that.
“Alright then.” His eyes twinkle as he grins, seemingly pleased with my response. “Oh, by the way. I have a new instructor for you.”
“You do?” I feel my eyes bulge. I mentioned my desire for more instructors in passing on the first day, but it was more of an offhand comment than a formal request. I didn’t expect Carter to act on it, much less so soon.
Clearly, his pace is full steam ahead, even when no one else is on board the train. I can relate.
“A snowboarder we sponsor, Ryder, has to do some community service and I volunteered this program as an option.”
My chest deflates before Carter finishes talking. Is he for real, or is this some sort of mess with the new guy gag?
Treading carefully, I deliberately make my voice higher, so I sound mildly interested instead of annoyed. “Why is this person doing community service?”
“He received a DUI a few months ago. First offense. You’ll have him for a hundred hours of work.”
I inhale as discreetly as possible, forcing myself to speak evenly when what I really want to do is roll my eyes and groan. “I’m not sure I like this idea. Some of our guests have lost limbs because of drunk drivers.”
“That’s why I want him here, so he can see the potential consequences of his actions while also getting back on the snow.” Carter’s tone matches mine, courteous with an undertone of caution. I know I’m supposed to interpret that as his final word, but I can’t.
Aside from the fact my reputation is on the line, I’m one hundred percent committed to giving our guests the best possible experience.
That means providing qualified, reliable and responsible instructors.
The greatest insult I could hit our guests with is to provide an instructor who’s only here because of his irresponsible actions.
How do I say that without pissing off my boss on day one?
“I think it’s a great idea to give this guy the opportunity to see what can happen if you drink and drive, but I’d really prefer to vet our instructors before I send them out with our guests.”
“No need. Ryder’s a professional snowboarder. He’s more than capable.”
“Being a pro rider doesn’t inherently qualify you to teach, especially when the people you’re teaching have physical limitations.” It’s the nicest way I can think of to object.
“I know. That’s why Ryder finished the training course yesterday.”
“Finished, or passed?” Carter may not see a distinction, but I do.
“Ryder’s work here has been approved by the judge.” It doesn’t escape me that he didn’t technically answer the question, but his piercing gaze has me swallowing back my final protest.
Well shit.
Few things are as irritating as being saddled with babysitting duty, but I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot with Carter. If that means stomaching this arrangement for the foreseeable future, so be it.
“When should I expect him?”
“Any minute now. Let me know if Ryder gives you any trouble.”
I muster an admittedly plastic smile as Carter leaves, which he’s either too polite or too amused to comment on, judging by the satisfied one he gives me in return.
As the door bangs shut, I close my eyes with a heavy sigh. And here I thought my less-than-ideal start couldn’t get any worse.