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I blow into my cup, my eyes floating to the large window in front of us, watching a light dusting of snowfall. The mountain is empty still, too early for skiers and snowboarders, although I would guess Delaney and Alex are out there somewhere. They both love to get up early and have the mountain to themselves.
It’s something Delaney and I used to do all the time before I took the job at the lodge. And when we have time, we still do it. But working here, my job is more demanding than it was when I worked park crew or taught lessons with Delaney. And if I’m being honest, it was Delaney who was practically dragging my ass out of bed. I’m glad she has Alex, who isn’t nearly as reluctant as I am to wake up with the rising sun.
“So you grew up skiing, huh?” Ethan says, making small talk. It’s not like we don’t talk all the time at work, but it’s just that, work. It’s easy to discuss management strategies and investments and improvements, but we don’t do small talk. “Been here through all the owners?”
“I have. I started working here when I was fifteen. I’ve pretty much worked every job Badger Creek has to offer if it had to do with the slopes. Max too,” I reply, referencing my brother, who works as a medic. We both took the path less traveled and decided not to take an office job at Holden Winter Gear.
I guess he took the path less traveled. I’m still sitting in an office, just in a different building, in a place where I’m trying to make a name for myself. Ethan has given me that opportunity and I feel like I could learn a lot from him.
“Obviously, I’ve been skiing since I was little though. When your family owns a gear company, it’s just what you do. Not that I don’t love it, I do.” I feel like I’m rambling a little, not bothering to ask Ethan anything himself.
It must be weird for him. Moving here in his thirties, at least, I think he’s in his early thirties. There’s always all this gossip about him and how he’s still single and lives in that massive house on the Badger Creek property. Delaney likes to call him the Wizard of Oz, but I don’t see him that way. I find him to be fully accessible and open when I need him. But maybe that’s just part of the job.
“I would guess you like to ski too,” I now say, steering the conversation to him, hoping to find out a few things about what makes him tick outside of work.
He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head, this perfectly gorgeous simple smile on his face and my mouth drops open.
“What?” I ask, clearly shocked. “You own a ski resort but have never been out on your own mountain? Ever?”
“Never,” Ethan says, shrugging. “I lost my parents at a young age and pretty much just jumped right into…” He stops short of finishing, and I suddenly feel rude for prying into his private life.
“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. And I’m sorry about your parents,” I say, trying to recover from making things awkward. He’s my boss. I have to keep telling myself that. We aren’t friends. But what if we were? Would that make his life easier? Would he not be so elusive and serious?
“I started the conversation. It’s okay, Zoey,” he now says, hitting me with a smile that makes my stomach quiver.
Why does my boss have to look like a fucking model?
“Is it weird to be sitting here with me?” he asks, changing the subject, making me a little grateful that we’re off his life.
“No, why?”
“I don’t know. I’m your boss and I really don’t have many friends here in Tahoe. I guess it’s just you and Cameron that I socialize with,” Ethan adds, and I smile at him, my heart clenching sympathetically at his comment.
“Shit, that makes me sound like a huge loser, doesn’t it?” he says, laughing nervously.
“Not at all. You moved here as an adult and you’re the owner of this place. It makes you kinda, I don’t know, unapproachable,” I say, trying out the word but not feeling like it fits well.
He isn’t unapproachable. He’s always in his office, his door open for any of us to stop in, but I don’t think any of us do. Maybe just me and Elissa when we have check-in meetings.
“Unapproachable,” he echoes, narrowing his eyes as he thinks it over, and now I feel like I put my foot in my mouth again.
“That isn’t the right word. You’re just very…” I trail off, searching for the right word this time, attempting to not make things awkward. “Bruce Wayne,” I now say, laughing at my own comment and remembering this is what Alex called him. It does feel like it fits. “Big house, no parents, lots of money, a little bit elusive.”
“Really. Is that how everyone here sees me?”
“No, Delaney says you’re like the Wizard of Oz,” I reply, wanting to slap myself. It’s like verbal diarrhea and I can’t keep my mouth shut.
“I think I prefer Bruce Wayne over the Wizard of Oz. Wasn’t he some old, short guy who just bossed people around?”
“I have no idea,” I reply back, laughing. “This conversation has gotten weird. I was just supposed to be having coffee with my boss and figured we’d be talking development proposals and RFPs.”
“We don’t always have to talk about work, Zoey,” Ethan now says, and the way my name rolls off his tongue has me wanting him to say it over and over, possibly even with his shirt off.
“Hi, Mr. Morrison,” a sweet voice says, interrupting us, and I look to see a few of the front desk clerks grabbing coffee at the counter.
“Ladies,” he greets them, tipping his head and giving them his signature smile. He is so damn charming even when he’s not trying to be. It’s hard not to find him attractive. “Call me Ethan,” he adds, and I swear every single one of them would be dropping their panties if we weren’t in the middle of a café.
“Have a great day, Ethan,” she now says with the other girls echoing her sentiments, and again, he’s charming and sweet, and I swear to god, no one works for a guy like this. He can’t be real. He’s supposed to be a dick, a dick with a ridiculous amount of money.
