Chapter 25 Genevieve
Genevieve
Aspen’s alarm goes off at exactly six-thirty a.m. He gently strokes my hair, trying to wake me up without disturbing the peace of the morning. I roll toward him, now facing him and can’t help but smile as I meet his blue eyes.
"Mornin’," he says, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep.
"Morning," I reply, still a little groggy.
"How’d you sleep?" He asks, his voice turning soft with concern.
"Amazing," I answer, half-lie. I did sleep great next to Aspen, but his bed isn’t exactly the comfiest.
"Good. You ready for a full day of riding?"
"Ready as I’ll ever be," I say, my excitement creeping in despite the early hour.
Aspen rolls out of bed and starts getting dressed. I follow suit, slipping out from under the covers and unzipping my suitcase.
I’m a little tired after last night, the sex and the tutoring. Aspen stayed up with me to help me do a couple assignments just as he promised. If he keeps this up, I might never let him go.
I grab a pair of black leggings out of my luggage and a tight black long sleeve to start. Over that, I pull on my black snow pants and a black zip-up. Once we're about to head out, I'll throw on my puffer coat to complete the look.
I have to take a shit, but there’s no way I’m doing that here.
The last thing I want is for Aspen to smell anything foul coming from his bathroom, so I’ll have to hold it until we get to the resort.
I hate being a girl sometimes. It’s funny—there are men out there who think women don’t poop or fart, like we’re somehow exempt.
I wish we didn’t, but hey, we’re all human.
All I’m saying is, dating should come with a poop-free honeymoon period.
Not that Aspen and I are dating.
My brain is running in circles.
Aspen heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth and I use the time to finish getting dressed.
I put on two pairs of socks and my snow boots.
He comes back out, looking as good as ever.
For someone who claims to have no fashion sense and doesn’t care about what he wears, he somehow makes everything look like it came straight off the runway.
Now it’s my turn. I brush my teeth, comb my hair, and do a quick, simple skincare routine.
Normally, I wake up looking like I spent hours getting ready, but today?
Not so much. Every night, I do a Korean face mask that stays on overnight, then I apply a lip stain.
I also put heatless rollers in my hair to sleep in which I cover with a silk bonnet, and I wear mouth tape.
This way, when I wake up, I just take everything out, touch up for about ten minutes, and I’m good to go. I call it my morning shed.
But you’ve got me all the way messed up if you think I’m going to sleep next to Aspen looking like Aunt Jemima meets a creepy Korean voodoo doll.
Luckily, I woke up with a little bit of leftover curl from yesterday and no surprise acne.
I apply my last serum for the morning, take one last look at myself.
It’s weird how hard I try to look effortless.
But for some reason, I don’t want him to see the messy, high-maintenance version of me—not yet.
I step out of the bathroom. “You hungry?” Aspen asks, his voice casual.
I hate how effortlessly handsome he looks. Meanwhile, I could easily spend two hours getting ready if it weren’t for the times I sleep in heatless curlers to save time.
“Not really, I can wait until lunch,” I tell him.
"You sure? My boss is cooking again," he says with a chuckle.
"Oh, shit. Maybe he’ll let me cook my own meal," I reply with a grin.
"I’m sure he will. You ready to go?"
"Ready!" I answer, and together we exit the apartment.
***
Pulling up to the resort at this time is nice and peaceful.
Aspen has to come in thirty minutes before opening so the only people here are the employees.
He parks his car in the parking lot and then we walk into the main building.
Aspen tells me to wait in the lobby area while he goes to clock in fast. While I’m waiting I see no one other than his brother, Everest.
“Gen?! What are you doing here? Came back to tell me how wrong you were for choosing my brother and you missed me?” He says, typical Everest.
“You’re so full of yourself,” I say through a laugh. “How are you two even related?” I ask.
“Honestly no clue, but seriously, what are you doing here? I thought you left a few days ago,” he asks.
“Aspen asked me to come back,” I tell him.
“Ohhh,” he says as his mouth takes an “O” shape. “That’s why he wanted your number. So you came cause you like him!” He says like a little kid while poking my stomach.
“Maybe a little, we’ll see what happens,” I tell him.
“Whatever you say blondie. You can come help me work in the rental shop whenever you get tired,” he says.
“Thanks, but I literally rather do anything else,” I tell him. It’s true. Everest is funny, but can be annoying sometimes.
“Suit yourself. See ya around!” He says, then walks away just as Aspen is walking back towards me. I see Everest playfully punch Aspen’s arm and then he continues to walk in my direction.
“Everest giving you trouble?” He asks.
“Nah, just his usual banter about how he thinks I’m in love with him,” I tell him. “Like that could ever happen.”
Aspen nervously chuckles. “Yeah, right…”
“So you’re all clocked in. What now?” I ask him, trying to change the subject. I know Aspen doesn’t hate his brother, but I think he’s still pretty weirded out that we kissed before. Not that I blame him.
“Now we will get you a board in the rental room and then I’m gonna go tell my boss his cooking sucks,” he says.
That makes me laugh, but also, thank goodness. We head into the rental room and he keeps grabbing boards to measure against my height until he’s found the perfect match. We leave the rental room and Aspen carries both my board and his under his arms.
We go outside and enter a different building where the bar is located.
He props the boards up at the entrance of the bar and walks in.
I take a seat at the bar while Aspen strides onto the bar part where the kitchen is at.
I see him talking to his boss, he must have told him how the food wasn’t good because I hear his boss say, “What do you want me to do Aspen? I don’t have anyone to take Derek’s place. I’m the best it’s gonna get.”
I continue to eavesdrop. “I know, but maybe you should ask Becky if you can work front desk while she cooks,” Aspen suggests.
“I can’t start switching my employees around Aspen, they don’t get paid to do each other's work,” his boss replies.
Before I can stop myself I chime into their conversation. “I could cook…” I say. Both guys stick their heads out from the kitchen looking at me sitting at the bar.
“And who are you?” His boss says.
“I’m Genevieve, Aspen’s friend,” I say.
He smiles. “Oh you’re Genevieve,” he says like I’m famous around here.
“I thought you said she left,” he says directed to Aspen.
I’m now wondering how much Aspen has talked about me to everyone if he even told his boss.
I can’t imagine him being so close with his boss that he would tell him something like that, but what do I know?
“She did, but she came back,” he says with his face all red.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or intrude, but I’m a pretty good cook.
I enjoy cooking and I have nothing going on.
I was going to snowboard today, but that can wait if you guys need help,” I tell them both.
I can’t believe I’m saying this. “I’m not gonna lie, I tried a bite of the burger and you’ll lose customers if you cook again. ”
I can’t believe I just said that to his boss’s face. Hopefully, he doesn’t take it the wrong way, it wasn’t meant to be disrespectful. I was just being honest.
Besides, I really do enjoy cooking. Growing up my parents were rarely around, so most nights, it was just me and my brothers at the dinner table.
We could’ve had the maid cook for us, but we hardly ever wanted that.
Instead, cooking became our way of spending time together, a way to bond.
We learned how to make all sorts of meals, experimenting in the kitchen, pushing each other to get better.
We even had a few cook-offs over the years.
I remember one night, my Adam made mini apple pies and accidentally put salt instead of sugar. Cole and I made fun of him for weeks, but I secretly loved that night. It was one of the last times we baked together before they moved out.
"She’s right, boss. But Genevieve, you don’t have to do that, you’re on vacation," Aspen says.
"You’re hired!" Aspen’s boss declares. "No sense in losing customers."
I grin ignoring Aspen’s protest and shake his boss’s hand.
"Raul Ramirez. Pleasure to meet you," he says. "You must be good if you’re a friend of Aspen’s, so I trust you. Can’t be worse than my cooking, so the kitchen’s yours."
"Cool! Thanks…" I say, unsure what to call him.
"Please, call me Raul," he says with a smile. "I can pay you in cash once your shift is over."
"Don’t bother, just add whatever I make to Aspen’s paycheck," I say, excitement bubbling in my chest.
Raul grins. "Sounds good to me! Looks like you came in clutch today, Aspen. Thanks, man!" He claps Aspen on the back before turning to me. "And thank you, Genevieve. I’ll be back in fifteen to help you bartend for the day."
With that, he heads out, leaving us at the bar.
I glance at Aspen and smile. "I’m sorry. I hope you’re not mad. I know you wanted to snowboard more today, but I felt bad when I overheard you guys talking. And honestly, I really enjoy cooking, so it’s no problem."
"Mad?" He laughs. "You just saved my ass! Thanks, you’re the best. But I’m not taking your money, you earned it fair and square."
"We can discuss that later," I say, knowing full well I’ll make him take it one way or another. Besides, he can always use it for a date with me.
He rolls his eyes. "Okay, well, I’ve got to go set up the cones and stuff at my station. I’ll see you on my lunch break?"
“I’ll be here!” I reply with a grin.
"You sure this is okay? I don’t want you to be stuck in here all day when you could be out there having fun and learning how to ride some more," he says, his concern making him even sweeter.
"Don’t worry about me!" I assure him with a grin. "Just being in a different state is a nice change for me, and I truly love cooking. This could be lots of fun."
"Okay, well, I’ll keep my phone ringer on. Call me if you need anything, but my boss will also be here if you need him. He’s a huge teddy bear underneath that tough exterior, so don’t be afraid to talk to him or ask for anything."
"Got it, captain!" I say, saluting my forehead. He grins, then leans in to give me a soft peck on the lips before stepping out.
I watch him walk away, the reality of what I’ve just agreed to settling in.
I’ve never worked a day in my life. I didn’t tell anyone that, of course, but it’s the truth.
I’ve never had a job. I don’t even know where to start.
But I’ve watched enough TV, been to enough bars and restaurants, I can guess how it goes.
I’ve been sneaking into bars since I was fifteen, thanks to a fake ID. Perks of being insanely tall; people always think you’re older. Add a ton of makeup, a skimpy outfit, and a pair of sunglasses, and I easily looked twenty-two, just like my ID said.
I’m sure I’ll catch on fast.
As soon as they’re gone, I step behind the bar and into the small kitchen, staring at the industrial stove like it’s some kind of spaceship.
There are about five pans I don’t know how to use, three kinds of spatulas, and a fryer that hisses like it’s angry.
I can cook, yeah—but cooking in a restaurant?
That’s a whole other beast. What if I burn something?
What if I undercook a burger and give someone food poisoning?
Breathe, Gen. You’re not on Hell’s Kitchen , just wing it.
The bar is still quiet, the air smelling faintly like bacon grease and pine cleaner.
There’s a window cracked open somewhere and the cold mountain air drifts in, cutting through the heat of the kitchen.
I open the fridge and start taking stock of what’s inside: eggs, butter, too many condiments, a massive tub of mayo.
It’s weirdly peaceful, being here before the rush.
Like the calm before a storm I’m not sure I’m ready for.
I have to stop doubting myself.
I’m Genevieve fricken Brown, after all.
If cooking for a bar is anything like pretending to know wine pairings at Nobu, I’ve got this.