Bev gave my shoulder a squeeze before dropping her hand. “Mattie told me you didn’t get a job or something like that?”
“Of course she did.” My stomach soured that Bev already knew about my rejection. The interview I’d spent the entire week preparing for—the only one I’d been granted since applying—had already sent me an email this morning, letting me know I wouldn’t be moving on to the next round. Despite the fact that I had answered every question flawlessly, made polite small talk, and that I was overqualified for the role. None of that had been enough.
“Their loss,” Bev said, taking in my forlorn expression.
I’d already spent the morning distraught and crying over this. I refused to tear up again, especially not in such a public setting. I had to keep it together.
“That’s nice of you to say, but you don’t even know me that well.” I sounded small, but all this rejection was startingto take its toll on me. Bev’s kind eyes made me feel like I could just curl up into a ball in her presence.
“I know enough,” she said, leaning against the bar. “And I know what those God-awful corporations are like. Enough of them have tried to purchase this lodge over the years. It’s always the same. A bunch of out-of-touch older men whose only personality trait is their career. You should wear it like a badge of honor that you don’t fit in there.”
I opened my mouth to protest but quickly shut it. I didn’t want to see the disappointment in Bev’s eyes when I explained that I, in fact, fit in perfectly with that crowd. Or at least, I used to.
“Thanks,” I said instead, desperately needing this conversation to end.
“At least you’re here. Key Ridge is a great place to heal and recoup.”
“I do like it here,” I murmured wistfully.
“Think you might stay?” Bev asked. I must have looked taken aback because Bev shook her head, laughing. “Geez, I asked if you were planning to stay and you’re looking at me like it’s some sort of death sentence.”
“No, I’m not,” I insisted, although I’m sure my expression hadn’t been far off from that description.
Bev leaned a hip against the bar and crossed her arms.
Before I could say anything else, the bell above the front door chimed. Oliver waved at me before stomping some of the snow off his boots on the front door mat. Seeing him almost instantly lifted the dark cloud that had been floating around me all morning.
It had only been a few days since my snowboarding career had started and ended, and he’d come into Marie’s every night for dinner or a drink. He’d sit at the bar and we’d talk a little. I was immensely grateful he was always around.
During our chats, I’d also tried to glean more information about him and his personal life, but he’d deflected every time. At first, I’d taken Oliver at face value. He was a fun-loving, good-hearted guy. But now, as we talked more, I realized he never shared anything about himself. Helping him with any sort of goal planning was going to be a lot harder than I thought it’d be.
“Look who it is,” Bev said. “Our new regular.”
Oliver’s broad smile wavered slightly when he approached and took in my sullen expression, which made me stand up a little straighter.
“Or should I say our newoccasionalregular,” Bev whispered to me, giving me a little nudge. “Funny how his visits line up exactly with your shifts every night.”
“It’s when he gets off work,” I said, attempting not to blush at Bev’s implication.
He sauntered over to the bar, shaking his navy jacket off and setting it on one of the hooks underneath the bar top. “Hey.” Oliver scootched onto the barstool across from me and took off his beanie to set it on the table in front of him.
Bev passed a glance between the two of us. “Oliver. How’s the snow out there?” she asked.
“Soft. Beautiful. Decadent.” He flung a hand up theatrically and waved it around. “A perfect spring day.”
Bev laughed. “You’re always a ball of sunshine. I’ll be sad to see you go when the season is over.”
“I’ll be sad to leave.” Oliver pretended to pout.
My stomach sank a little in response. I had no reason to care that the season was winding down and Oliver would soon be on his way. Honestly, when I’d first met him, I figured I’d be the one leaving long before he did. Too bad reality had other plans in mind for me. I wasn’t any closer to landing my next job than I’d been when I first got here. And now, thethought of Oliver leaving? The only positive thing in an otherwise bleak chapter in my life? Well, let’s just say I didn’t love the idea.
“Headed back to your house in Denver?” Bev asked.
“Nah. I’ve got renters in my house all year. I’ll have to figure something else out.”
My ears perked up at that. I knew Oliver had moved here from Denver, but a house?
“I’m sure you will.” Bev gave a small nod and excused herself to check on the kitchen.
