by Jamie Beck
“Our parents paid for the whole day,” Ted whined.
“Too bad you ignored me all morning.” He didn’t recall them being so difficult, but the last time he’d taught them, they’d probably been eleven or twelve. Now they were teen boys, jacked up on puberty and attitude. “If ski patrol had caught you, you’d be thrown off the mountain for longer than one afternoon. So quit whining, and let’s get back to the lodge. I’ll let your parents know to come get you.”
Ted turned on Eric. “Great going.”
“Hey, Ted, you’ve been as bad as your brother. Now let’s get down without another incident, or I’ll recommend you be kept off the slopes again tomorrow, too.” Andy gave his best glare, although he’d never been much of a hard-ass. His sister had always laughed in his face whenever he’d scowled.
Andy followed behind them, each step bringing him closer to a proverbial guillotine. No client complaints, Don had said.
Andy knew that Mrs. Bodner would certainly complain to Nikki and defend her kids. She’d plunked down big bucks for lessons and would blame Andy for that waste.
Too bad Nikki hadn’t assigned the Bodners to Billy B. Andy would gladly teach an intermediate group instead of two entitled dickheads. Whatever premium tip he might’ve earned today wasn’t worth losing this job, although keeping the mountain safe for others was.
#
The Bodner boys sulked while taking off their equipment. Andy waited and then marched them inside, where Nikki was already waiting, thanks to his text.
“This is disappointing,” she said. She wasn’t looking at Andy when she spoke, but he couldn’t help wonder if he’d let her down, too. He’d never before had trouble keeping students in line.
“We didn’t do anything other skiers don’t do,” Eric insisted.
“Yeah, you did.” Andy folded his arms across his chest.
“That’s BS. People jump and stuff,” Eric continued.
“You can jump as long as you have a spotter below to make sure the landing area is clear. And you can go fast in some areas provided you remain in control. What’s not okay is being a cowboy and thinking the whole slope is yours. And what’s completely unacceptable is ignoring me when I’m charged with teaching you and keeping you safe.” Andy heard his voice rising and thought of how his dad had always scolded him. God, he didn’t like thinking he’d inherited those genes, but he was pissed that this incident might’ve cost him Nikki’s faith in him.
Just then Mrs. Bodner appeared. A poseur, he thought uncharitably as he assessed her expensive skiwear. He knew from watching her ski that she’d be better off putting that money into lessons.
She pulled off her expensive sunglasses and speared Nikki with a haughty look. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Bodner, but the boys have broken several mountain-safety rules, so we’re suspending their passes for the day. They’re welcome to return tomorrow.” Nikki kept a calm expression that hovered between a customer service–style smile and the look of a concerned parent.
“What rules?”
“Maintaining control and reasonable speeds on crowded runs, and jumping without clear sight lines,” Andy interjected. “They ignored my instructions and put other skiers at risk.”
She looked him up and down, then turned to her sons. “Boys, take a seat over at a table while I speak with Ms. Steele.”
They turned to go, but not before Eric shot Andy a nasty look identical to his mother’s. Those kids expected their mom to manipulate Nikki as easily as they manipulated their mom. Andy wanted to shoot them a smug look of his own, because he knew Nikki would not be maneuvered by anyone. That didn’t, however, mean that Don wouldn’t fire him. So much for smugness.
“Why don’t we three go into my office?” Nikki gestured toward her door.
“Not him. Just you.” Mrs. Bodner strode ahead of them.
“I’ll go grab myself a snack and come back in ten,” he said.
“Perfect.” Nikki sighed and went to her office.
Andy couldn’t regret doing the right thing, but it still sucked. He hit the cafeteria, ordered chili in a bread bowl with onions and cheddar, and a Gatorade, then found a seat near a window.
He loved this mountain. Didn’t matter that working here put him barely above the poverty line. Being here made it easier to breathe.
The magnificent beauty of the jagged peaks and firs stirred something deep inside. Hiking up ridges, swooshing downhill, and tackling moguls kept him fit and strong. He didn’t care about fancy clothes or furniture as long as he could be here every day. Getting paid to do this was icing, not the cake. But without the job, he’d have a hard time affording a season pass, let alone finding the time to get out here often. He ate the last bit of bread and chili, then cleared his tray and strolled back to Nikki’s office, bracing for bad news.
The Bodners were gone when he arrived. He walked in to Nikki’s office, hands raised in surrender. “I’m sorry, Nik. I know you probably had to endure a world-class dressing-down, but those kids were uncontrollable.”
She tapped her pencil on the desk. “I don’t doubt that, but it doesn’t mean we don’t have a problem.”
“Have a seat, Andy.” Don’s voice traveled from the corner of the office. “Let’s chat.”
Andy’s stomach sank to his toes, having not seen Don when he’d first entered the room. “Sure thing.”
He sat while Don remained standing, staring down at him. “Now, I know you know you’re on probation here. And you know that client complaints were one of the conditions.”
“Yes, sir. I know.” Andy rubbed his hands on his thighs. “The fact I risked this conversation should tell you something about my commitment to keeping the mountain safe.”
“Don, you put those conditions on his employment to protect the clients and resort. That’s exactly what he did today. This complaint isn’t the kind of situation you were contemplating when you made the condition.” Nikki didn’t look at Andy, instead keeping her gaze politely fixed on her boss. God, she was glorious then, defending him, her spine erect and proud.
“That may be true, but we also need to know our employees can manage their jobs. So the bigger question is why Andy couldn’t control those kids.” Don sent him a disappointed stare. “Nikki vouched for your prior experience, but perhaps sitting out a season and a half has thrown you off your game.”
“This is the first problem I’ve had with a client in a dozen years. I did everything by the book, but those two were on a mission.” Andy started ticking off the fingers on one hand. “I warned them, then relegated them to lesser terrain until they behaved, then warned them again before pulling them off the slope. The look on their faces when their mom defended them proved that they’ve never suffered a consequence a day in their lives. I did what I thought was right, and I stand by it. To me, that proves I’m a good instructor, not a bad one.”
Don glanced back at Nikki, who nodded her agreement. “Andy’s worked with a lot of teens, and I trust his version of events. If he couldn’t control the Bodners, no one could have. I’m sure of that much.”
Andy held his breath, awaiting Don’s decision.
“We’ll wait until the end of the probation period and reassess then. Assuming we don’t have other issues, I suppose, given the circumstances, we can let this one pass.”
Andy stood and stuck out his hand. “Thanks, Don. I promise. There won’t be any other complaints.”
Don offered a stiff handshake before leaving Nikki’s office.
Andy swiveled toward Nikki, gratitude swelling in his chest like a tidal wave. She’d believed him and defended him to Don for the second time in less than a week. “Thanks for having my back.”
“It’s not about having your back. Contrary to what Billy and others may think, I don’t play favorites.” She ran her hand through her hair. He’d never realized how thick it was until right then. For a millisecond, he thought about what it might feel like in his fists. “It’s about doing what’s
right for the program.”
Billy’s rumor had bothered her a lot more than he’d realized. The lady protested a bit much, though, making him wonder if any part of it was true. Did Nik still have a little thing for him like before? That prompted a smile.
“What?” she asked.
“What what?”
“You smiled.”
“Is that against the rules now, too?” He winked and then enjoyed the way her lips twitched in response.
“You’re free for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll call you if we get a last-minute request for an hour-long lesson or something.”
“Are we still on for three thirty . . . meet you at the Challenger Express lift?”
“Of course. You’re going down, Andy. And don’t you dare think of holding back on me.”
“Careful what you wish for.” He left her office with a grin on his face, his thoughts veering into dangerous territory. He wouldn’t mind going down in other ways with Nik, too, especially if she instructed him not to hold back.
Chapter Five
The winds had continued to pick up all day, now forcing the lift to tilt to the left. Despite the hundred-foot drop into the gorge below, Andy didn’t mind. The chair’s position caused Nikki to slide closer to him.
“They’ll have to close the lifts early. Too windy,” Andy said as they approached the top of the mountain. He’d be upset except that he’d already gotten lots of vertical in this afternoon on his own. His legs should have been tired, but the full-body buzz kept him going. “Looks like we’ll only get one shot at this, so what’s the bet?”
“If you lose, you have to sing ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’ for karaoke at the employee holiday party this weekend.” She wiggled her brows with smug satisfaction.
She thought she’d scared him. Little did she know he had a half-decent voice. Granted, he’d never sung in public, but it didn’t matter, especially because he wasn’t going to lose.
“I’m not worried, but you should be, ’cause you’ll be eating a strawberry-sized ball of wasabi when you lose.”
Her mouth fell open. “You do want my job. You’re trying to kill me.” She elbowed him in jest.
He laughed before they skied off the lift and tightened their bindings. Although he guessed a part of her still feared the trees, he respected the hell out of her for the way she’d never been beaten by the memory of that accident. He hadn’t been skiing with her at the time, but everyone in town had heard some version of that story.
She wrinkled her nose, thinking. “Glades until we hit the midmountain lodge. Then anything goes. First to the base of K2 Quad Lift wins.”
“You’re on, Nik.” He fist-bumped her, alarmingly excited by the gleam in her eye and the way she straightened up and skated away. Agile and robust, as always. Man, that turned him on. So much so he’d temporarily forgotten that this was a race. Now she’d gained about fifteen yards on him and was pitching toward the slope.
Luckily his long legs allowed him to glide across the traverse and catch up before they dipped into the glade.
At first, she had the advantage because she was in front of him, and he had no safe option to pull out from behind the single track she was taking through the maze of trees.
“Booyah!” he hollered when he found an opening and, skiing parallel to her, eventually snuck ahead.
Sunlight filtered through the treetops, while sprays of glittery powder puffed up around them. Her laughter filled the air with a kind of happiness he hadn’t felt in so damn long; he breathed it in to hold on to the feeling.
He wanted to look back at her but couldn’t risk it. Dodging trees required complete concentration, especially at high speeds. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her about ten yards to his right, dead even at this point.
He yelled, “Nice try, Nik!” as he jabbed through a cluster of trees and into a wide-open space, where he could tuck and gain serious momentum.
This part of the slope was near empty now, which meant he could really let go and fly. He knew the terrain well enough to ski it blindfolded, but so did she. He could hear her on his heels, but he kept his eyes forward until he heard a yelp and the unmistakable sound of a crash. He swooshed to a stop, turning in time to spot her tumble and lose a ski.
“Nik! You okay?” he called from ten yards below, skiing sideways to retrieve her lost ski.
“Yes.” She groaned, grabbing her elbow and throwing her head back into the snow. “Damn.”
She didn’t look okay. “Hang on.”
He popped his skis off, grabbed her stray, and hiked back up to where she sat waiting. When he got there, she was hugging her right elbow to her chest, wincing but not crying.
“I thought you were okay?” He set her ski beside her, frowning.
“This is nothing. Just hyperextension, I think.”
He reached down and held her beneath her armpit to help heave her up so she wouldn’t have to put pressure on the joint. “Sorry. You need to get it on ice and in a compression brace. I can call Avery to come check you out.”
In addition to being his sister, Avery was widely recognized as the top ortho PT in town.
“Don’t trouble her. My bruised ego hurts worse than my arm. I hate losing, especially because of a wipeout.” Her scowl made him chuckle.
“Double or nothing to the bottom?”
She glanced up, a glint in her eye, then rubbed her elbow again. “No. Fair’s fair. If I were Billy or one of the guys, not only wouldn’t you give me that option, you probably wouldn’t have stopped so quickly to help, either. I told you not to go easy on me.” Her full lips pursed into a playful pout.
The sudden urge to kiss her here, on the deserted slope, in the shadows of the fir trees, gripped him. If she were anyone other than his boss, he would. “I’m not going easy on you. I’m doubling down now that you’re injured,” he teased.
“Well, then,” she said, clicking her boot into her binding, “go get your skis.”
He hiked down to where he’d left them and refastened his bindings while she skied up beside him. “All set.”
“Double or nothing?”
“You got it, tough girl.”
“See ya!” She took off, although he could tell from her pole planting that she was babying that elbow.
He could overtake her on open terrain, but he knew how competitive she was and worried that pushing her would lead to another yard sale and do real damage. Besides, the view from behind was spectacular. Great ass, perfect turns, powerful grace in motion. A thing of beauty.
As the base lodge drew near, he crouched into a tuck and gained ground, assuming he could overtake her at the very end, once she was sure to finish safely. She tucked and barreled straight ahead, edging him out by a hair.
Nikki whipped off her helmet, wearing a huge grin, and formed an L with her fingers. “Better practice your scales, Andy. Should be quite an audience at Saturday’s party.”
Hell. That might be a little embarrassing. He shrugged, unable to think of a snappy comeback.
When she rubbed her elbow again, he skied beside her and leaned in. “Go get that checked before you make it worse. What if you tore a ligament?”
“It’s not torn.”
“Didn’t know you had X-ray vision.” He shook his head. “At least take something for the swelling and pain.”
“I can handle the pain.”
“Hardhead.” He playfully knocked his fist on her skull.
Over her shoulder, Andy saw Billy B standing outside the ski-school doors, watching them. Andy waved, but Billy sent him a “told you so” smirk before walking away.
#
“Rocky Road? Come on, Amy. You know I’m trying to be good.” Nikki lifted the half-gallon ice-cream container from the grocery cart and handed it to her sister.
“I’m not.” Amy tossed it back in the cart and pushed away from the freezer.
Of course Amy wasn’t trying to be good. She didn’t need to. Amy took after their petite mother, who
could eat buttered popcorn every night and never gain an ounce. Nikki had inherited her dad’s genes. She shouldn’t complain, because her strong, capable body had never let her down. But she had to watch her diet to avoid piling on the weight.
“Anyhoooo, I picked up the paint and supplies today,” Amy announced as they rounded the end of the aisle, her head bopping to the beat of “Jingle Bell Rock,” which was playing throughout the store. “Let’s get it done tonight. No excuses.”
Nikki rubbed her still-tender elbow. Forty-eight hours later and still sore. She didn’t want to be a wuss, but she didn’t want to aggravate it, either. “I might need until tomorrow to let this elbow heal completely.”
“I really want to get it done before Christmas Eve. Tomorrow is your company party, and Christmas Eve is the next day. I know you—you’ll be last-minute Christmas shopping that day.” Amy grabbed a bag of Ritz crackers, too.
Great—more carbs to resist. And, yes, she did still have last-minute shopping to do. She let loose a sigh.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on this.” Nikki held up her arm yet couldn’t help but smile. Racing Andy had been fun—no regrets.
“Aren’t you getting a little old to be racing your staff, Nik? You’d think after all the bone breaks and other injuries that you’d stop that stuff.” Amy shook her head.
Nikki didn’t take offense. She knew her sister genuinely didn’t understand her competitive nature or her love for the mountain. Amy skied for pleasure, happily cruising the blue runs with friends, mostly killing time until she could flirt with a lift operator or some handsome vacationer at an après-ski lounge. She didn’t ski for the thrill of the wind in her face or the sense of mastery that came with each new run.
As for the scar, of course most of the time Nikki wished it weren’t there. People noticed it, although it looked better now than it had a decade ago. Lots of people suffered much worse injuries and problems, so she wouldn’t complain. Her face really shouldn’t matter that much in the greater scheme of life. Someday someone would love her for who she was, not how she looked. Hopefully.
“Oh, speaking of Andy, there he is.” Amy pointed toward the checkout line, her face brightening before she called, “Hey, Andy!”