2. Jaime
”Alright everybody, last call,” I hollered, looking at the sparse crowd left in the bar. It was a Wednesday, so there weren’t that many people left and most of the regular business diners had already gone up to their rooms.
The Lounge at Pine Crest Mountain Resort was the most luxurious bar I’d ever worked in. It also paid the best, which is the only reason I was here. My family needed the money, so I worked where I was reminded every day of the girl who got away.
Guests began settling up their tabs and filing out of the bar. My assistant manager, Charlie, finished cleaning up the bar and preparing for the next day while I balanced the books.
It was probably my least favorite part of the job. When I”d gotten my mixology certification, the last thing I thought I’d be doing was balancing ledgers, but it was part of being management—and management brought in the money. And every dollar I had to spare went to help my mom.
I”d been sending money home for years. Before my dad passed away, he”d reminded me I would be the man of the house and it would be my responsibility to make sure that my mom and sisters were taken care of. I took my promise to him seriously… but I didn’t need to stay in Silverpine to provide for my family. So I bounced around California hustling, getting my certification and gaining a reputation, while still sending a weekly allowance home.
My sisters gave me a lot of shit for leaving Silverpine, but my heart couldn”t take it. With memories of my father and Emma lurking around every corner, I was better off anywhere but here.
A flash of red startled me out of my thoughts and I jerked my head up to catch a petite redhead walking past the lounge entrance. The bar was dimly lit this time of night, so I couldn”t decide if it was the right shade of red, but the possibility that it was her made my heart race.
I felt a nudge on my shoulder and looked up at Charlie, who shook his head before mumbling, ”It”s not her boss.”
At that moment, the redhead turned around—it wasn”t Emma. I returned to the task at hand, clearing my throat as I mumbled, ”I wasn”t thinking that.”
”If you say so,” Charlie said, giving the bar a final wipe down. ”But I”ve seen that look before.”
”What look?” I asked, irritated, although I knew exactly what he was referring to. He was one of the few people who could spot when I was spiraling, which happened almost every time I was reminded of Emma. Unfortunately, it’s become a regular thing since I returned to Silverpine.
Charlie was one of the few faces I was relieved to see when I came home to help take care of my mother. He was the first friend I made when my family immigrated from Spain.
It might”ve seemed odd to settle in a quiet ski town in Colorado when we could have gone anywhere, but my parents thought Silverpine felt a lot like Navacerrada, the town we left. It was a safe place to raise a family, and there was plenty of opportunity for a hardworking, resourceful immigrant like him. My father was convinced we’d have a better life in America.
I”ve wondered about that a lot over the years because, in many ways, it didn’t feel better here. But the one time I dared to speak my doubts out loud, my mother was livid and scolded me, ”You have no idea what we sacrificed to get you here. You should be grateful.”
While she never gave us specifics on what exactly they had given up, we never questioned her. It was an unwritten rule in our household. That”s why I had to laugh when my father told me I was now the ”man of the house” because everybody in the Acosta family knew Mama was the boss.
But now my mother could barely remember her own name, and while she was gentler and more docile now that the dementia had settled in, I missed the fiery woman who never let me get away with anything.
Late one night a few months ago, I got a call from my little sister Maria and she simply said, ”It”s time to come home, Jaime.”
I could tell by the exhaustion in her voice there would be no arguing. I”d been putting off coming back for years, always finding an excuse, but the truth was it was easier to stay away. In Silverpine, there was no avoiding what I”d lost—or what I was about to lose.
Charlie had been there for it all.
He”d warned me back then not to get involved with that ”Carter girl,” not because he didn”t like her—I didn”t know anyone who didn”t love Emma—but because he knew her father would never allow her to hang out with “the help” or in my case, the help’s son.
My father was the primary contractor working on the expansion of Pine Crest Mountain Resort, and occasionally, I would come help on the weekends.
I”d noticed the beautiful redhead in the halls of our high school long before I saw her on the jobsite, but I”d never gotten this close to her. I”d watched her with her mother, leaving for hikes on the land behind the resorts and then coming to check on the progress of the construction project. They were always very sweet and supportive, telling the guys what a good job they were doing. Mrs. Carter would often bring donuts and coffee or other treats, while Mr. Carter”s reception was less than welcoming.
Emma amazed me by how easily she could talk to anybody. Most teenagers were awkward and had a hard time speaking in public, but she spoke to everyone, young and old, male and female, as if they were her new best friend. It was obvious she”d gotten that from her mother. She didn’t act like a spoiled rich girl, born with a silver spoon in her mouth.
Every time I saw her outside of school, she had on a beanie or bandana tied around her head, sporting hiking boots and shorts with a t-shirt. She hardly looked like the princess of Pine Crest. I would later find out just how much she detested that nickname.
I couldn”t resist her, though. I”d heeded Charlie”s warning back then and played the long game, becoming Emma”s friend instead of asking her out. But there’s no doubt in my mind, I fell in love with her the first time I saw her on that construction site.
And I’m still crazy about her. It’s pathetic really. It’s been twelve years since she left Silverpine. Twelve years of missing her and wondering what our lives would”ve been like if her father hadn”t intervened… or she’d been able to stand up to him.
”Look, if you ask me, you dodged a bullet,” Charlie said as he finished his cleanup ritual. ”I mean, she was a nice girl, but you wouldn”t have wanted to marry into that family,” he said, shaking off a shiver. ”Imagine all the crap you”d have to deal with on holidays. Can you really imagine your family sitting around the table with her family? They’re polar opposites.”
I shook my head, even though I”d imagined those very scenarios countless times before. Unbeknownst to Charlie or Emma, I’d imagined a million different dream lives shared with her in the years since she left. Maybe I was a masochist, but I couldn”t stop myself. However, in this moment, I recognized I needed get a hold of myself because this was getting ridiculous. I was a grown man pining after a dream that never came true.
”Look, I know you don”t agree with me,” Charlie started, ”but you can cut yourself some slack and not give yourself whiplash every time you see a redhead walk through the door. You and I both know the likelihood of Emma Carter coming back to Silverpine is a million-to-one.”
Maybe he was right. I heard through the grapevine she’d only visited a handful of times, and that was just to see her mother. But since Lydia Carter passed away a couple of years ago, nobody had seen or heard from Emma Carter.
According to the gossip mill, she worked her way up the ranks of the family business and was now considered her father”s right-hand woman, set to take over as CEO when her father retires. That thought left me with mixed feelings. I was proud of her for accomplishing so much in such a short time, and I knew well enough to know she’d earned it. Mr. Carter didn”t hand out anything to anyone, not even his only child. She had a knack for talking to people and getting them to see her point of view.
However, knowing she worked so closely with a man who despised me from the moment we met simply because I was an immigrant and didn’t come from a wealthy family irritated me. I had to remind myself that it’s where she wanted to be—where she chose to be—and I didn’t have to like it.
Someday, I wouldn”t have to humble myself by working for the company, and the man who ruined my life. Someday I would have a bar of my own, with my own signature recipes a warm family vibe to it. I had to keep my eye on the prize. Right now, every spare dollar I had was paying for mom”s in-home nurse. But once I got more established, I”d be able to save a little more and figure out a way to get out of this hold Pine Crest and Emma Carter had on me.