7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Rachel
I woke the next day, November second, feeling like I’d entered an alternate dimension. One where Juniper and I shared a suite. Despite the snow outside, the sun felt as bright as a Florida summer, streaming in through the cracks in the blinds of my living room just enough to wake me—though, unlike a Florida summer, there were no people buzzing about in the heart of the city. They’d been replaced by the snow-covered pines outside my window and Sasquatch’s head on my lap, his big brown snout claiming my thigh as his pillow as he still slept. As to not wake the dog, I didn’t dare move except to look up at Juniper, whose shoulder I’d fallen asleep on. In my peripheral, I saw the “Are you still watching?” Netflix prompt on my otherwise black television screen.
A five o’clock shadow speckled across Juniper’s jaw. His black hair was a mess behind him with a few tangles forming near the spot where his head met his neck and his bun fell undone. With his eyes still closed, I noticed how long his eyelashes were. His breathing was slow and steady, only audible because of how close we were, and his lips parted ever-so-slightly into a pout.
Leave it to Juniper to be pretty even as he slept. There wasn’t a filter out there that could imitate how much he always seemed to glow, no matter what his temperament was.
My throat itched, but it was likely something a cup of coffee could fix. I chalked it up to having passed out on the couch and didn’t think much else of it.
I felt a slight movement beneath my head: it was Juniper rolling his shoulders back. A small grunt bubbled in his throat but never passed his lips. Something popped and was followed by additional cracking and creaking sounds as he wiggled his hips once to the left and then again to the right.
To avoid looking like I’d been admiring his otherworldly beauty—which I totally had been—I glanced at the television. It felt like the “Are you still watching?” prompt was patronizing me for staring at Juniper.
In the black reflection of the screen, I could see the full picture of us: Sasquatch’s head on my lap, my head on Juniper’s shoulder, one of my arms wrapped around his, and Juniper lifting his head from mine. That was when I realized he’d fallen asleep with his head resting on my own.
If this wasn’t some weird alternate dimension, I really should pick up some of his meds to keep handy, assuming this ever happened again—which, for as much as I doubted it would, a part of me hoped.
“Good morning.” Juniper’s voice was even deeper and gruffer with sleep than it was on a normal day. The tone was enough to make my knees feel like they were jelly instead of bones. Thank God I was sitting with a Newfoundland weighing me down, otherwise, I might have melted right off the couch.
As I unraveled my arm from his, I cleared my throat as subtly as I could. “Good morning. Sorry, I must have totally crashed last night.”
Juniper rubbed his eyes. “Don’t sweat it. You and Sasquatch looked so comfortable I would have felt like a dick if I’d nudged you.”
At the sound of Juniper’s voice, Sasquatch perked up. The Newfoundland squinted in satisfaction when I petted between his ears again, but after only a few seconds, he jumped to the floor. He ran to the counter where Juniper kept his medicine, opened it, and then bounded around the coffee table to reach Juniper’s right side. Sasquatch nudged Juniper’s thigh, medicine bottle in his mouth.
“It’s alright, bud,” Juniper said to the dog. “Good boy.”
Seeing how gentle he was with Sasquatch, and the sleep still lingering in his voice, made me want to kiss him. It would be so easy to lean up and do that with how close we were still sitting, the slight pout of his lips so tempting. I knew I should get up and thank him for watching crappy reality TV with me, but I couldn’t will myself to stand up.
I wanted to kiss him.
I wanted to kiss Juniper Hart.
Shit .
“Do you need anything?” I asked, hoping to push the thought from my head. Juniper may have been something of a friend now, but he was my boss first and foremost.
But I’d never fallen asleep on the couch with my last boss and his dog, nor did I ever think of kissing him. Come to think of it, I wasn’t even sure if the old suit and tie had a dog.
“I’ll be alright. Squatch can tell when I’m having a flare-up. It’s one of the things he was trained for.”
“I swear, dogs are smarter than the lot of us.”
Juniper chuckled. “I have to agree with you on that.” He stood and stretched with his arms overhead, clasping his fingers together as his body cracked and popped a few more times. I tried not to stare—and failed—as his shirt rose, revealing a thin strip of skin above the waistline of his pants that I wanted to press my lips against.
I reached for the water on the coffee table from the night before, chugging a few sips. The light sting in my throat soothed, as I thought it would.
“Meet me at The Elk’s Head in a few? We can grab breakfast before we get started today. My treat.”
I nodded. “Sure. Let me freshen up.”
“Yeah, same.” He reached for the knots in his hair with a nervous chuckle. “This may take me a minute, so no rush.”
“Do you need a detangler?” Why was I still talking? The longer I was around him, the more unprofessional my thoughts became. “I have a great one you can borrow. If it works on this mane, it should definitely work on your hair.”
“Oh, you sure?”
“Yeah,” I said as I stood from the couch. “Let me get it before you go.”
As I grabbed the detangling spray from my bathroom, I made a mental note to let the cold water run over me for a few minutes before bumping the heat up as soon as he left.
“Here.” I held it out to him as I returned to the living room. “It’s got a raspberry scent. Hope you don’t mind.”
I could have sworn his pupils dilated as he took it from my hand, but maybe it was just him waking up. “Yeah, raspberry’s fine. Thanks.”
Juniper kept his eyes on the ground as he waved and left, Sasquatch trotting behind him.
We ended up meeting each other in the hallway, both of us leaving our rooms at the same time. Juniper reached into his backpack to grab the bottle of detangling spray I tossed haphazardly into my room to put in its proper place later. He chuckled with an eye roll he probably thought I didn’t see, but from the way one corner of his lips upturned, I knew it wasn’t out of malice.
I asked, “What’s on the agenda today?”
“Something up your alley. A photoshoot.”
“No way!”
“Yeah. The VIP cabins aren’t quite ready yet, but I have some pictures we can use in the meantime. I want to get some updated photos on the website, so I figured we could get pictures of the cabins later and focus on the rest of the lodge today.”
“Sounds good to me. I used to oversee all this in Orlando, so I’m your girl.”
“Mia has a really nice DSLR camera. Edgar grabbed it for us to use today. I guess she got it from an ex-girlfriend for Christmas and hasn’t used it since they broke up, so no rush to return it, either.”
“Oof. But good for us, I guess.”
Juniper smirked with a twinkle in his eye. “Right? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”
The look on his face was a treasure in and of itself. There was no denying it at this point: I was down bad for him.
Sasquatch pushed the door to the restaurant, letting me and Juniper move through. He looked so proud in his vest as he held it open for us.
To my surprise (and, based on the way he took in the restaurant, Juniper’s too), we weren’t the only ones here. The Elk’s Head typically picked up for lunch and dinner with few people coming out for breakfast since the old lodge closed. But as the smell of coffee, caramel, and chocolate filled the air, it would appear Edgar did some promotional work of his own. As the host brought us to a table by a window, where we had a stunning view of some elk running through the snow, Juniper sent a text to Edgar to let him know where we were seated.
“It’s looking a little more populated,” I said as we waited.
“Mostly locals, I’d wager. That’s good, though. This is a good sign, right?”
If Juniper asked me that back in September, I’d have thought him to be indifferent. But now that I’d known him for a few months, I picked up on the slight waver in his voice. He was unsure—anxious, even.
“It is,” I said, hoping I sounded reassuring. “They’re probably going to scope out the ski situation when they’re done eating, too. Don’t be surprised if you see them walking around later.”
“I just hope they come back.”
“They will. Don’t worry.”
When I smiled at him, he smiled in return, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Edgar’s arrival interrupted us. He’d swung by with the camera and two cups of coffee mixed with hot chocolate.
“All yours,” Edgar said. “Mia says she won’t need it back, so don’t you worry about it.”
“Pass our thanks along,” I said. “This will come in handy. I brought an old DSLR with me, but this one looks way nicer.”
“Battery’s all charged up, too.”
“Thank you again,” Juniper said. “I appreciate it a lot.”
“What can I get you two to eat?”
As much as I fantasized about living a life of luxury where I lazed about eating Edgar’s French toast pancakes every morning, I didn’t want to have anything too heavy before a full photoshoot day. I opted for a traditional American breakfast; thankfully, Edgar had turkey sausage he swapped out for me instead of bacon. Juniper must have had the same idea because he simply asked Edgar to make it two.
Once Edgar left, Juniper opened his backpack and pulled out a sheet of paper. “I remember having shot lists from back in my photoshoot days. They can’t be that different from the ones you’re used to, so I kind of winged it.” Juniper slid the page across the table. “Let me know what you think. If it sucks, you can do whatever you think is best.”
He sounded so dismissive as I grabbed the sheet, but part of me sensed he was secretly hoping for my approval. I was getting better at spotting his tells, the little things that revealed the caring soul beneath his rocky attitude. In this case, it was the way he immediately reached for his coffee, hiding his face behind his long sip as I glanced over the sheet.
For winging it, he’d done a good job. The list was comprehensive, including the lobby, all the rooms in the suites of various sizes, the indoor and outdoor pools, the lifts and ski rentals, and the trailheads nearby. We already had tons of photography from The Elk’s Head, so we could repurpose those pictures and spend more time getting detailed shots of the rooms and lobby.
“This is perfect,” I said. “You sure you winged it?”
He hid his smirk behind another sip of coffee. I did the same to fill the silence. When Juniper set his mug down, he said, “Okay, I may have Googled it. You have a little chocolate on your lip, by the way.”
I scrambled for the napkin to wipe my mouth. “Thanks.”
Juniper shrugged a shoulder. “I’d want someone to tell me.”
As I set my napkin down, a man who looked about fifteen years older than us approached the table. “Excuse me, are you Juniper Hart?”
Juniper didn’t bother to fake a smile as he looked up at the man. I glanced over Juniper’s shoulder, hoping to see a perfectly timed Edgar with our food coming to the rescue.
No such luck.
“That would be me.”
“My daughter, she’s a few tables over. She loves you, but she’s too shy to come over.” I looked in the direction he pointed with his thumb. The girl had the same shade of red hair as her dad but hid her face with her hands. “Would you mind coming over for a few to get a picture with her? Maybe sign something?”
I pulled out my phone and texted Edgar beneath the table.
Emergency refill. I don’t really need a refill.
Juniper didn’t hesitate. “Sorry, but no.” He certainly didn’t sound sorry, not that I blamed him. “I don’t exactly do that anymore.”
Edgar: Be right out. You ok?
Thank you!!!!
The father simpered. “She’s sixteen.”
As his gaze narrowed in annoyance, Juniper scowled. He waved a hand dismissively. “Good for her.”
Sasquatch perked up from his spot beneath the table, resting his head on Juniper’s right thigh. Since he'd taken his meds this morning, I knew this meant only one thing: Sasquatch was responding to Juniper's stress.
“We have a busy morning,” I said. “Thank you for understanding.”
He looked at our table. “You don’t look busy to me.”
“It’s a working breakfast,” I explained. Before things could escalate, Edgar came out with two glasses of water.
“Excuse me, sir.”
The girl’s dad had no choice but to step aside.
“Your food will be right out,” Edgar said to us. “Anything else I can get you all? More coffee?”
The dad got the hint and walked away as Edgar kept talking to us.
“No, thank you,” we both said at the same time.
Edgar dropped his voice to a whisper. “What’d he want?”
“Photo and autograph session,” Juniper said. “The hell does this look like, Disney World?” He looked at me. “You’re from Orlando. Does it?”
“Actually, yeah.”
Edgar stifled a laugh as Juniper rolled his eyes.
“Do, pray tell, explain to me how this looks like Disney World.”
“Well, there’s Blizzard Beach, for starters. And Expedition Everest. Oh, and one of the mini golf courses has a winter theme. Shall I continue?”
Juniper groaned and leaned back in his chair. “Should I have? Is this guy gonna blast us on social media?”
“Maybe,” I said. “He looked pretty upset. Thanks for the save, Edgar.”
“Happy to help.”
I glanced behind me to see the man sitting with his daughter. His back was to me, but she’d finally dropped her hands from her face. Her cheeks were almost as red as her hair—if I had to guess, from embarrassment.
“I should at least say hi, huh?” Juniper rubbed his eyes. “I’m trying to get better at this.”
“Just go so you don’t beat yourself up,” I said. “Snap twice if you need emergency rescue.”
He nodded and told Sasquatch to stay put as he stood from the table. “Thanks for saving my ass. Both of you.” Juniper nodded at Edgar and then, to my surprise, made eye contact with me. “That’s twice now you’ve covered for me. Maybe I’ll have you and Rick meet so you can both force me into some media training.”
“Not a bad idea,” I called after him. As he walked toward them, he turned to look at me, stuck his tongue out, and extended his middle finger. Edgar and I both laughed at the gesture and watched closely as he began talking with the family. Hoping to hear them, we both remained silent, but all we could hear was the occasional sound of laughter.
After they took a selfie on her phone, I saw her ask him something while pointing at her feet. He shook his head and began talking with his hands, but the girl and her dad both nodded. The girl scooted her chair back and then took her snowboarding boot off. Juniper chuckled as one of his hands moved behind his head.
“Do you have a permanent marker?” I asked Edgar. He patted his apron and then procured one from a pocket. I took it from him and jogged over so Juniper would have something to sign with.
“Thanks,” Juniper said. His gaze had softened since he got to the table. As he signed the girl’s boot, he said, “This is my Assistant Manager, Rachel. She keeps me in check.”
“Nice to meet you both!” With my elbows close to my ribs, I gave them a small wave.
“Here you are,” Juniper said to the redhead. “I appreciate your understanding.”
“I told him it wouldn’t be nice to catch you off guard,” the girl said as she put her shoe back on, giving her dad a pointed look. He held his hands up in defense. “Thank you again.”
“Sure thing.” Juniper nodded.
“Are you opening soon?” The girl’s eyes were wide with wonder. “I’d love to come back once you do.”
“Early next year,” Juniper said. “Lots to do in the meantime, though. We should get back to it.” He handed me the Sharpie. “Shall we?”
I nodded and then smiled at the man and his daughter. “Have a great rest of your day, folks.”
When we returned to our table, Edgar had set our meals out for us already. Sasquatch placed his head back on Juniper’s leg the moment we sat down.
“What did they say?”
“Apparently, Allison and I inspired her to snowboard. Not sure if I told you about them. We had the same agent and went to a lot of the same tournaments and events. You’d like them.”
“That’s sweet,” I said. “I’m glad you went over.”
“To save face?”
“No, because I’m pretty sure you made her day. Doesn’t that feel good?”
Juniper scoffed as he smirked. “Yeah, just call me Cinderella from now on.”
“You strike me more as an Elsa, but I mean, if you really want…”
“Good God, please don’t.” He took a bite of food and then, once he finished chewing, said, “Thank you. Seriously. I’ll get my shit together one of these days.”
“Hey, I get it. I’m sure it’s not easy.” I offered him a sympathetic smile. “There’s no saying how any of us would handle it, so I don’t judge you.”
I wasn’t sure what it was I said that made him freeze, but it was as if his body turned off. Juniper.exe stopped operating. With his voice in a whisper, he said, “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“Well, I mean it. I promise.”
We spent the rest of our meal in a comfortable silence that left me with the lingering desire to give Juniper Hart a massive hug. I wondered when the last time he’d received one was.