Chapter 12 Hayden #2
“Are you that good? I mean, obviously you’re good if you’re a pro, but Carter’s risking the reputation of the mountain on you if he’s pulling strings to get you back on it.
And if you think he’s going to do the same to get you back in competition…
Are you number one or something?” I’m baiting him, poorly, since the intense stare directed my way has me rambling.
Still, my gut tells me Carter isn’t pushing Ryder toward racing so much as trying to help him deal with his grief by getting back on a board.
I’m not sure my unwilling employee gets that though.
Ryder drops his gaze as he sits on the bench to put his shoes on. “Hooking me up with community service is hardly risking his reputation.”
“Isn’t it? If you fail it reflects poorly on his judgment of you.”
“Then he shouldn’t have stuck his neck out. I don’t belong on the mountain.” Damn he’s insistent.
So am I.
“You look like you do.”
“What?” He spares me a brief glance as he stands and reaches for his coat.
“You really are a natural rider.”
“One lesson and you’re an expert,” he mutters under his breath as he tugs it on.
“You said you ride better than you walk and I’m agreeing with you. It’s evident in the way you move. And you’re a natural with Max too. Even though you didn’t want to do it, I’m glad you started riding with him. It’s something he’ll remember forever.”
Ryder’s eyes have an almost haunted quality to them when they meet mine, and I know without a doubt I’ve been too loose with my words. Told him something he wasn’t ready to hear. I only wish I knew which part tipped him over the edge.
“I’m late for the bus.” His monotone words echo through the room as he grabs his bag and lunges for the door, and I collapse on the bench, wondering for the first time in my career if I’ve met someone who’s beyond my help.
***
“Knock, knock,” Sloan calls as he barrels through the door with a burst of frigid air.
“I know we did this last night—” he leans his elbows on the counter “---but both Lennon and Beck are working the bar, and Maddox and Kane just finished a meeting with Carter, and my sister is also on her way here, so we’re doing another happy hour tonight. You need to come and meet everybody.”
The only thing on my calendar tonight is—was—a bowl of reheated pasta and a movie, so the offer is too good to turn down. Plus, there’s a good chance meeting new people will take my mind off the whiplash of emotions I’m feeling after my lesson with Ryder.
I know the saying is one step forward two steps back, but with Ryder it feels like for each foot of forward progress I lose five.
And while I’m no stranger to the ups and downs of the healing process, in my experience, physical activity is the key to overcoming that back and forth.
Yet, Ryder shuns all attempts to get him moving unless he’s forced into it.
Logically, I realize it’s unfair to compare Ryder’s situation with those of our clients.
After all, his is emotional while theirs are physical, so reclaiming the ability to ride down a mountain looks different for him than it does for others.
But still, I’m used to people becoming more inspired, not less, when they accomplish that feat.
And if he can’t be reached through his riding, I’m at a loss for what else to try.
“Happy hour sounds great.”
Everyone’s seated at the table closest to the bar so Lennon and Becj can jump back there at a moment’s notice, though it’s unlikely they’ll be needed.
Apres ski is over, and most tourists seem to venture to Main Street for dinner where there are a greater number of restaurants to choose from.
Plus, most vacationers have probably already eaten here at lunch, one of the reasons I either pack my own or come in late. The lunch rush here can be madness.
Once introductions are made—Kane’s pink hair will make him easy to remember though the other names are a bit of a blur—Sloan tells the group what my role is at the resort. Then he throws me under the bus.
“It’s sort of like a prison cell,” he says, talking about my office, “and I hate to think of you sitting in there all day.”
I knew he didn’t love it, but I didn’t realize it was bugging him to this extent. “Really, I don’t even notice what it looks like. I’ve got too much work.”
“While I totally get that,” several heads bob up and down in agreement, making me think he really does, “I also get how depressing it can be to work in those conditions. I was at the spa for nearly a year, and let's just say it needs a facelift as much as your office does. I’m trying to convince Carter to give it an upgrade.”
“The spa? You worked with Ryder, then?” The man’s name is out of my mouth before I can stop myself.
“That was before my time. I worked with Blake, though.” He tips his head in Kane’s direction, telling me they’re an item, whoever he is. “Anyhow, what I’m saying is, Carter would be on board with you making the space your own.”
“Thanks, but I’m not sure a coat of paint is the answer.” I slap a hand over my mouth as soon as I realize what I’ve said, and the rest of the table bursts out laughing.
“We all know the resort needs improvement,” Lennon grins, “and most of us are helping with that. I opened this location to make the base area more appealing. Maddox,” he points to a gorgeous blond man on my left, “is doing all the environmental studies to see where the terrain can be expanded to bring in more visitors. And Kane is building a bike park so there are guests coming year-round. Basically, you shouldn’t feel bad for saying that things need a lot of work. ”
“Speaking of makeovers,” a redhead—Sloan’s sister, I think—says. “We have to get you ready for the Black and White Ball.”
“Me?” I point to my chest when I realize it’s me she’s looking at.
“Yes, you. I’ll need time to make alterations if what I have on the rack doesn’t fit.”
“I don’t…”
“It’s a fundraiser Carter started, and it’s a ball because Ally likes to play dress up and she wanted a fancy event.” Sloan casts his sister a wry smile.
“There’s dinner and dancing, and the ball drop at midnight. It’s magical.” Ally seems to pout.
“Honestly, the whole holiday season here is magical,” Maddox says in a voice that’s much softer than his large frame would suggest. “There’s a Christmas Carol Concert at the end of Main Street on the twenty-third, then a parade to the same place on the twenty-fourth with Santa in his sleigh. And the ball on New Year's Eve.”
“That sounds amazing, but I’m not really in a position to attend a fundraiser.” I’d like to move out of employee housing, first.
“The ball is free for resort employees,” Kane says. “I mean, you can donate if you want, but you don’t have to buy a ticket or anything.”
“What is the fundraiser for?” I ask the group.
“It used to go toward fixing whatever needed work on the mountain, but Carter’s planned improvements should bring in the funds to cover that without fundraising. Now whatever we collect will go to a grant in Chase’s name to fund youth programs on the mountain,” Lennon says.
“Chase?” I prompt.
“Ryder’s brother,” Beck answers.
“Oh, well then, I…”
“You have to go,” Beck interrupts. “If you don’t, I’ll be the only other single person there, and I really don’t want to be the only single guy on New Year’s.”
Since sitting home alone is probably just as depressing as being the only single guy at a ball on New Years, I empathize with Beck. Not that I want to go to this thing, but if I’m going to make this my home I should make the effort to get out and socialize.
“How fancy are we talking?” I ask. “I’m not even sure I have a pair of dress shoes to my name.” I didn’t expect to need any in my job. Snow boots and tennis shoes, yes. Loafers, no.
“That’s where I come in.” Ally beams, sizing me up with a knowing air.
Though I’m a little scared by the gleam in her eye, it’s a relief to know I won’t have to put any effort into finding something to wear.
Especially since the fundraiser is in honor of Ryder’s brother, and I wouldn’t want to look out of place at an event that’s sure to be emotional for him.
Not that he’d care what I look like, but let’s just say if left to myself to dress fancy I’d end up looking as stiff as he likes to accuse me of being.
By evening’s end, the new faces and conversation have successfully distracted me from dwelling on the sting of my failure with Ryder, and even though I’m still disappointed in myself for not being able to get through to him, I feel oddly grateful.
There are good people in this town, and the way they’ve welcomed me with open arms inspires me to keep trying.
Seems like this move could be good personally as well as professionally.