Chapter 7
Talon
Zeke didn’t eat the meal I left for him a few days ago, but I’m not sure I expected him to. I just wanted the stubborn guy to have the option.
As I rode the gondola to the mountaintop this morning, a warning bell blared in my head.
I’m not usually one to disregard the alarms, but I need more time.
My original plan was to spend two weeks undercover in each department.
However, not only am I enjoying my anonymity and the restaurant itself, I’m still intrigued by its host. Leaving now would mean my hundred questions would remain unanswered, and that doesn’t sit well with me.
Every interaction with Zeke finds me engaging entirely. There’s so much he says without words, and so much I think he wishes he had words for. Since he doesn’t know who I really am, it feels safe, and the more time I spend around him, the more I want to be that safe place for him.
But I must’ve pushed too far with the dinner I left for him.
My intentions were simply to make sure he eats, since I’ve never seen him do it, but that act altered something between us, and he’s been avoiding me ever since.
When we do talk, he’s even shorter with his answers than usual, which kills me.
I can’t help but think his boyfriend must’ve said something to him after I interrupted their moment. If I hadn’t, though, I was afraid of what I might have said or done if I’d allowed him to finish his sentence.
I really dislike that guy.
It was impossible not to see how Zeke visibly recoiled from his touch, and that’s what made me open my mouth. I’m usually not one to interfere in someone else’s business, but it couldn’t be helped. The need to protect Zeke was stronger than my desire to play nicely.
Despite the rift between us, I still bring him coffee every afternoon.
Admittedly, I’m a little late with it today, and I opted for hot chocolate, but I’m hoping he’ll forgive me.
Especially because I spiked it with just a hint of bourbon.
The snow has been falling relentlessly for the past couple of hours, and the temperature has continued to drop.
I figured the liquor was a better way to warm him up than hot chocolate alone.
Summit is hosting the employee Christmas party tonight.
A tradition that the previous owner started and one that I want to continue.
Because of that, we’ve closed early to the public, but Zeke is still outside, rehearsing lines, probably happy to not be a part of the chaos inside as the party is set to begin soon.
“Delivery,” I say, sliding the cup carefully across Zeke’s manuscript.
“Mmm,” he hums before heaving a sigh and looking up at me through his lashes. “I have to admit, this is the highlight of my day.” He gives me a reluctant smile, and it makes me so fucking happy to have a glimpse of the real him again.
Taking a cautious sip, his eyes grow wide, and I have to stifle my laughter.
“Did you…” he trails off.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I throw him a wink as I use the knuckle of my index finger to wipe his upper lip, realizing too late that the move was definitely inappropriate.
“Sorry,” I say stupidly, wondering why I felt it was okay to touch him like that.
“Don’t worry about it,” Zeke says, not dropping his gaze from mine as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.
For once, I can’t quite read him, and before I can, our moment is interrupted by a man wearing a red ski patrol jacket who is accompanied by two other men, obviously here for the party.
“Zeke, are you working?” the man asks, seemingly outraged. “Jesus, they didn’t even give you the night off to enjoy the party?”
“We tried,” I grumble under my breath. Apparently, it’s louder than I thought because the ski patroller eyes me like who the hell are you?
Zeke shrugs. “I don’t mind, Stone. I can still mingle, and I get to eat and drink on the clock tonight,” he says, holding up the mug of spiked hot chocolate.
“Is Palmer coming?” Stone asks in a clipped tone.
Palmer? Zeke called his boyfriend Derek. So, who the fuck is Palmer? And why the fuck do I want to know so badly?
“No,” Zeke answers quickly.
Stone huffs a humorless laugh, shakes his head, and lowers his voice. “He left you alone for Christmas, didn’t he? That fucker.”
“He’s traveling to see family, Addario. He’s really not that bad; you’ve just seen him at a few of his not-so-great moments.”
“Those are the only kind of moments he has, Zeke. The guy’s a piece of shit. When are you going to snap out of it?”
It takes everything in me not to tell this guy to back off, but I don’t, because as far as they all know, I’m just a waiter, and this guy genuinely seems to care about Zeke.
Zeke waves behind him with his mug, clearly dismissing the guy and his small group of patrollers.
“Enjoy the party. Last call is eleven. Last gondola trip will be at midnight. Merry Christmas.”
Zeke takes a gulp of hot chocolate as I step forward, unable to stop myself from leaning down and asking directly in his ear, “Who’s Palmer?”
He jumps at my proximity, and I place my hand on his back to steady him. It startles me how much comfort I receive from the gesture until Zeke flinches and pulls away.
“Derek. His last name is Palmer,” Zeke explains.
“Hmph,” I grunt, choosing to keep my mouth shut. Zeke and I are finally making progress, and I don’t want to go backward by bringing up the night I almost punched his stupid boyfriend square in the face.
“What’s ‘hmph’ mean?” he asks.
“I don’t like him,” I answer honestly. So much for not going backward. But to my delight, Zeke lets out a bark of laughter.
“You and everyone else.”
“So why do you stay with him?” I press.
“I told you, it’s complicated.” Then he turns the tables. “What about you? Any wives, girlfriends, mistresses?” he prods.
I can’t help my smirk. “Why do you assume I’m straight?”
I regret it the instant I see the flash of…is that hope in his eyes?
It fucking guts me.
What a stupid game to play, Talon.
“Aren’t you?” he asks, making me want to cut out my tongue. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt bad about being attracted to women.
“Yeah, I suppose I am.”
“Mmm,” Zeke hums as another employee steps up to the host stand to check in.
“What does ‘mmm’ mean?” I ask, using his own question against him as more employees approach from the gondola, quickly get checked in, and head inside. I’m not offended, just…curious.
Zeke lifts one shoulder in a shrug.
“Oh, come on. You do know,” I pester him.
“It means nothing, Talon.” He’s back to his usual closed-off self, and I hate that I’ve lost him so quickly.
He places the mug on the host stand, and I immediately reach for it.
“Let me get you a refill.”
I’m gone before he can protest.
I leave the liquor out this time because I’m not trying to get him drunk so he spills his secrets, but I can’t help but wish he’d open up to me.
When I take Zeke’s mug back outside, I see him chatting with another resort employee, and I stand in the shadows for a minute to watch the interaction. Zeke seems just as distant as ever, with his arms wrapped around his body and not even a hint of a smile.
At least he doesn’t close me off like that.
I wait for the interaction to end before approaching and handing him the refreshed mug.
“No liquor this time,” I tell him. “Didn’t want you to think I was trying to get you drunk.”
He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Oh, please. You getting me liquored up and trying to take advantage of me would be the highlight of my year.” As soon as the words are in the air, his eyes widen in mortification, and he slaps a gloved hand over his mouth.
“Ohmygod, I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry. ”
His nerves are endearing, and I chuckle to put him at ease.
“No need to apologize, Zeke. I’ll take that as the compliment it was intended to be.”
It’s impossible to tell if Zeke is blushing or if his cheeks are just pink from being battered by the wind and cold temperatures all day.
It amazes me that his glasses don’t fog from being out here in the brutal weather, but I assume he uses the same kind of anti-fogging spray that I put on my ski mask.
We stand outside in near-silence for another half an hour. Although we aren’t saying much, I’m grateful he doesn’t ask me to leave. After finding out that his boyfriend has left him on his own for Christmas, I don’t want him to spend tonight alone, too.
When there’s a lull in people arriving, I take a step closer to Zeke and look over his shoulder at the iPad where a green bar sits at the top that says Check-In Complete, indicating that everyone who sent in their RSVP has arrived for the party.
“Looks like everyone’s here. Why don’t we go inside and get warm?”
He turns, looking behind us through the windows. Inside, people are laughing, mingling, eating, and drinking. It’s a very merry sight. One that makes my heart sing because my employees seem happy and well cared for.
All except this one.
“You go on ahead. I’ll be in shortly,” Zeke says, almost making me believe he wants to be left alone.
“I’m not going in without you,” I declare, surprising myself with the statement. There are people from all different areas of the resort inside. I literally cannot think of a better place to mingle and learn about the employees I haven’t met yet.
But I meant it.
I’m not going in until Zeke does.
“Why are you so nice to me?” he asks, suddenly angry.
“I’m nice to everyone,” I argue. “Why do you allow people to treat you poorly?” I fire back, thinking about what that ski patroller had said. “Why do you allow Derek to treat you poorly?”
Zeke’s eyes flash to mine. His shame is evident in his quivering lip, and fuck what’s appropriate, I pull him to me in a hug. I’m about four inches taller than he is, so my arms wrap around his shoulders and upper back easily.
He pushes against me at first, but I don’t let go, and after a minute, Zeke gives in, resting his forehead against my collarbone.
His arms snake around my waist, and I feel the shudder of his sobs against my chest as he grips me tightly.
It’s as though he doesn’t want to, but can’t help himself.
Resting my cheek on the top of his head, I turn slightly, using my body to block him from the view of the windows.
“Come on, let’s go in. We can hide out downstairs,” I tell him, grabbing his hand and leading him around the side of the building to the employee entrance.
As we reach the door, we’re almost run over by the ski patroller from earlier as he storms out, followed by one of the guys who was with him when he checked in. Neither of them says a word, so Zeke and I stay quiet as well, catching the door before it closes.
The lights are off down here, silently telling the employees that the party is meant to stay upstairs. I’m not sure what those guys were doing, but nothing looks out of place, so I let it go. Besides, nothing is more important than being present for Zeke right now.
I tuck him into the corner on the far side of the room, opposite the stairs, and slip behind the bar, quietly pulling a bottle of bourbon from the shelves.
Uncapping it, I pour two glasses neat, trying to stay as quiet as possible so as not to give away our presence.
Based on his coffee order, I’m going to guess that Zeke probably prefers his drinks a little sweet, so I pour a healthy serving of simple syrup into his cup before giving it a quick stir with my finger, and joining him on the floor.
“Since we aren’t drinking any of the champagne or eating any of the food upstairs, I doubt anyone will care if we have these,” I tell him, holding out the glass.
He gives me a small smile and takes the offering.
“Thanks.”
“Merry Christmas,” I tell him, lightly tapping the rim of my glass against his.
Hidden by the bar, we lean our backs against it, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling windows in front of us at the pitch-black sky.
Sitting next to him like this, just two guys—maybe friends—hiding from the world, I feel as relaxed as if I were with Eloise and Lukas. There’s no one to perform for, no one dissecting my every move, no one asking about future plans, investment opportunities, or what’s next.
There’s just Zeke.
And bourbon.
And the dark expanse beyond the glass.
Until an idea strikes.
And then all my thoughts center around making it happen.