Chapter 14
Willow
Weston's apology rings through my ears long after we start our walkthrough. I need to get my shit together. Over my dead body am I going to let him get between me and doing this job well. It’s my first solo project, and if I want to grow in the company, I’m going to have to knock this one out of the park.
I should have waited until Aspen could join us, but they’re short-staffed at the hospital, so I haven’t seen much of her or Ava since I’ve been here.
I mull over his ideas, the vision coming to life in my head.
“That sounds like a good idea. If we pair that with really luxurious beds, linens, and bathrooms, I think you will attract a wide variety of guests. The more appealing we make it to the broader market, the greater success you can achieve in the long run.”
“Yeah, I like all that. I just want it to be a cozy place where people can fall in love with Wyoming. It’s underrated, and for a lot of my life I took it for granted.
” He shoves his hands into his pockets as he gazes out the window, staring at the pine trees surrounding us.
His words hit their mark because I feel the same way.
Being back here with all this open space and fresh air has me almost dreading going back to New York.
I love my job and the hustle, but I miss this part of life.
The slowdown, the scenery, the peacefulness.
“I think a lot of us did,” I say without thinking.
I walk further through this cabin, wanting to fish out more ideas from him, see what he’s been dreaming about.
Taking note of things that definitely need work, which is basically the whole cabin, mine really is in the best shape, which is kind of sad when you think about it, but I’m glad we’re about to bring them back to life and make them shine.
I can almost imagine all the memories they are going to hold.
Families laughing, couples exploring, or even just some single people needing some space from the real world. I can understand that.
It takes us about two hours to go through the other cabins.
I take thorough notes and make sure I have all my ducks in a row for the project submission to the contractor.
I’m grateful Weston was willing to splurge on two contractor teams. That’s going to be my saving grace for even having a chance to finish this on time.
My boss has emailed me almost every day this week, and I don’t want to give him a reason to doubt me.
My cabin is closest to the main road, so our ride there is pretty quick.
“So, how long have you been at your current job?” Weston asks. His warm body presses up against me, and I have to fight from wanting to snuggle in closer, but we’re not doing that. That’s not what we’re here for. I know better than that now.
Part of me doesn’t want to be honest with him because telling him I’ve been at this job since college and I’m only starting to be successful feels embarrassing.
He always put me up on a pedestal, thinking I was the best and was going to accomplish anything and everything because of that, so did I.
Out there, I was a big fish in a little pond.
I was up against people who have been in this industry much longer, people whose parents had connections, and I didn’t even have parents, nevertheless connections.
“I started as an intern my senior year in college.”
“Oh wow. Do you like it there?” I can feel the genuine curiosity in his tone.
That’s a loaded question on my end because part of me does like it.
I like the job, I like feeling busy, and I like constantly trying to be better.
What I don’t like is being taken for granted, and after this many years, I’m only inches away from being the office bitch.
I had to work from the bottom up. It didn’t matter what type of degree I earned; every opportunity given to me, I earned myself so that I’m proud of.
“Yeah. It’s okay.” Even I can hear the lack of enthusiasm in my voice.
“Just okay?” he questions, readjusting his grip on the reins, his elbow rubs against my ribs, and induces a shiver out of me. How pathetic that it’s been this long, and a simple touch still sends me into a spiral.
Trying harder to sell it this time, I say, “Yeah, I like my job. There’s always a new challenge, and I’m learning something new every day.
I’ve learned a lot there. So better than okay.
” Not a lie, so it’s a little easier to make it sound convincing.
You can be unfulfilled while still being generally happy, right?
“I’m not sure who you’re trying to convince, yourself or me, but they’re lucky to have you. You’ve done a great job here.”
I hate that he’s figured me out.
“Thank you.” My voice comes out soft, and accepting his praise is hard. I don’t feel like I’ve done a whole lot here, but the beginning of projects always feels like this. Jumbled, unorganized, and a little bit chaotic, all things that I absolutely despise, but somehow find myself drawn to fixing.
When we finally make it down to my cabin, Weston shocks me when he says, “Well, at least this one won’t need as much work.”
Technically, he’s not wrong. It has running water and is definitely a stable structure. That’s about where I would end the differences between this cabin and the others.
I let out a snort. “Sure, if you say so.” This man is delusional. I wonder if he’s just saying all this to make himself feel better about putting me in a run-down cabin. Admittedly, I have come to love my cozy cabin.
I don’t wait for his help to get off the horse. As soon as we come to a stop in front of my humble abode, I swing my leg over and drop, thankful to get some space from him and clear my mind.
“Are you okay if I head on in?” Weston says as soon as his boots hit the ground, he starts striding to the front door, and I don’t stop him from going in. I knew we would be stopping by on our tour, so I made sure everything was tidied up after Josh left.
He takes a few steps in and looks around.
I focus on my notes while he takes in my cabin.
I've already got a laundry list of things I plan to do to this place. I guess that’s one benefit of my having stayed here.
I know exactly what I would want as a guest and I can implement that in all the cabins.
When I finally look at him, I realize that his face has lost all its light. His face has paled, all color drained.
He silently walks around, studying the space as he goes to the sink and turns on the water, testing the temperature with his fingers. His jaw grinds when he continues to hold it under the cold water that never heats up. “How long has the hot water been out?”
I roll my eyes at his naivety, sarcasm heavy on my tongue. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m guessing the year 1984.”
His voice is steel, but his control is slipping. “You mean to tell me you’ve been living in this cabin for almost a month with no hot water?” His usually calm eyes are wild with hurt. He uses his hand to point at the sink, and I notice the shake to it.
“I don’t know why you’re acting so shocked, you’re the one who put me here, “I retort.
He scrubs his hands over his face and his beard, closing his eyes for a long time before looking back at me. Well, crap, now I’m feeling bad for the guy because he’s clearly having some sort of revelation of sorts.
Trying to make light of the situation, I joke, “You should’ve seen it when I first got here. It was buried under a few inches of dust, and I almost had to sleep on a pile of clothes before I could run into town for an air mattress.”
He doesn’t laugh. If anything, my comment throws him deeper into his pit of despair.
“You're telling me there was no bed in here, nothing?” he asks, his control is all but gone now, he isn’t yelling, but the anger is clear in his voice, and I can’t tell who he’s mad at.
Surely it can’t be me. I’m having a hard time believing he didn’t have at least the slightest hint that this cabin wasn’t really livable.
My hand flies to my hip as I stand my ground. “And you’re telling me you had no idea?” I clarify. The pain that crosses his face makes my heart skip a beat. I’ve been using this cabin situation as my reality check with him, and I think we both just got one.
“You seriously think I would expect you to live here knowingly?” His brows furrow, and the devastation on his face would be visible from a mile away.
This may not be intentional, but the man still has a track record. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done something without considering my feelings or well-being.”
“That's not fair. You have no idea what you’re talking about. I asked the boys which cabin was in the best shape, or if it was even livable, and they said this one was fine. They must not have realized how bad it’s deteriorated.”
My head rears back and I fold my arms across my chest. “What? Was it too much work to come check it out yourself?”
He takes a big deep breath, looking up at the ceiling, I’m guessing to try and get a hold on his emotions.
Really, I should be doing the same thing.
“You’ve got me there. I really should’ve come out here and checked.
But you should’ve told me it was this bad.
Never in my life would I have you living in something like this.
I can’t believe you think I would be okay with this.
” He says the last part more to himself than me, his voice barely audible, but I can hear the crack in it.
He shakes his head and a vacant look fills his eyes.
Well, now I’m feeling a little guilty for lashing out. This man looks completely distraught. He takes off his hat and runs his hands through his hair. It stands up in all different directions; his eyes look like he’s close to tears.