Page 13 of Meeting Up with the Consultant

Rushing into the storage room I’d transformed into a studio, I turn on my computer, already hooked up to the video and sound equipment. I step to the sleeping bags hanging behind Brad’s chair and straighten them, though they didn’t really need it. Harding saunters in, his hands shoved into his front pockets and a smug look on his face.

“What can I do to help?” His eyes follow me as I come back to the computer, a banked heat in them that makes my toes curl in my Teva sandals.

“Um.” I click through the programs on my computer, closing out everything not needed for the interview. I don’t want emails dinging or ads popping up while Brad talked with Sunny.

“Kens?” Harding’s hand touches my elbow—that rough skin that should have no nerve endings—and my body zips back to high alert.

That won’t do.

“Can you go drag Brad in here, please?” I motion with my head toward the door, not taking my focus from the screen.

“I’m here,” Brad grumbles as he stomps into the room. “No need to send in the cavalry.”

I tense and turn to him. Wariness from my earlier outburst climbs up my back like a creeping lizard, one vertebra at a time. I wasn’t bluffing when I told him I’d walk, but that is the last thing I really want. I love my job, love the people, and the adventure. Finding something that satisfies as much as what I have now would be darned near impossible.

Brad stalks up to me, his eyebrows squishing low over his eyes. I hold his gaze, though my legs shake beneath me. This is it. I’ve gotten myself fired. Will he at least let me help with the interview?

Stopping right in front of me, he points in my face. “Never threaten to quit again. I can’t do this without you.” He sighs, his expression softening with gratitude. “Thanks for kicking me in the butt. I needed it.”

“Anytime, boss.” My sight goes all unfocused with tears, and I blink to keep the stupid things in my head where they belong.

He gives me a quick side hug, then shakes Harding’s hand. “Sorry, I freaked out on you. Kensie’s right. What you did with that video is spot on.”

“No worries, man. I just want others to see what I see when I walk into this company.” Harding shoves his hands into his pockets with a shrug. “It’s more than just a business. It’s family.”

Harding nods, his gaze darting to me, then past to the doorway. “That it is.”

I follow his stare that has gone all intense and smoldering. Emmy leans against the wall, studying something on her phone. Huh. A smile builds on my face, and I turn to give Brad a go-for-it look only to find him circling the seat with a look of resignation. My phone dings with a text that Sunny is ready, and everything else disappears from thought.

The interview progresses perfectly; like it is just another chat between long-time friends, and my heart soars to the top of Denali. This is far more than I had ever hoped it would be when I came up with the idea last summer. A year of coordinating and logistics. A year of doubting and excitement all bundled up into this amazing expression of shared dreams. Sunny Rebel has smashed the record, and Ascent’s gear has been instrumental in her success.

I clench my hands together and press them to my lips to keep my excitement in. Hard work still haunts the future. I embrace it because this moment will propel me for months.

I glance back at Emmy and give her one of those giddy I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening looks—the one where your mouth stretches into a wide full-tooth smile and your eyes go all buggy. Her double thumbs-up are just as enthusiastic.

Turning to Harding to share in the excitement, my hands drop and my smile falters. He isn’t watching Brad; but stares at me in a vacant, inward gaze. He’s leaning against the shelving where the tents are stacked, his shoulders slumping. What can have him looking so sad at such an epic moment?

Those stupid tears rush back to my eyes and the back of my throat feels like I’d swallowed steel crampons whole. Here is a man I love to be around, who challenges me professionally and enjoys the same off-time activities. From his actions in the hall, he at least is attracted to me on some level. Yet, in two days he’ll be leaving. My heart drops like it just took a dive off the summit and it’s sliding toward a bottomless crevasse without an ice ax.

9

-Harding-

Iturn from Kensie’s office with a huff. She hasn’t left for the day yet. Her car still sits in its spot in the parking lot. Yet, I keep going in circles through the office, trying to find her.

Her elusiveness isn’t the only thing frustrating me. Despite the video getting a ton of views in the day since Kensie loaded it, despite pouring everything I had into Ascent over the last two weeks, Brad still hasn’t offered me a job. Why, when so many other businesses I’d helped begged for me to stay, the one I actually wanted didn’t? Call it ego or whatever, but I want him to see the benefit I’ll give to his company. Want him to want me here.

To believe that I fit.

And didn’t that just make me feel like I haven’t left high school with my desire to be part of the cool crowd? That’s what Ascent is. The ultimate group of amazing people that brings the adventure and intensity of extreme outdoor sports to the workday. In the two weeks since I’ve been here, I’d gone product testing new climbing gear with Emmy and Wyatt, ate lunch while staring at Denali, worked the longest hours of my life, and crashed into bed more satisfied than with any other job.

I yearn for a place here, so much, it consumes my thoughts, but I can’t bring myself to beg. It would feel like cheating. Like I’ll never know if I actually belonged. I roll my eyes, wanting to punch myself in the face. It won’t be the end of the world if Alaska doesn’t become my home.

Kensie’s face flashes across my brain. Ascent might not become my new home, but that didn’t mean Alaska couldn’t. There has to be a company close I could work for. Shoot. Maybe I need to look at starting my own consulting business. Lots of companies need help to adjust their practices, but most can’t afford consulting fees big companies like mine charge. Maybe offering services online at affordable prices should be my next step. Then, I can live anywhere I want, even right here in Grizzly Point.

Is that feasible? It isn’t something I’d considered before, but then again, I’d never met anyone like Kensington Bloomfield either. I shake my head as I work my way to the new product sample room. I’d be starting from zero with no clients, no website, nothing. It’d take months to get something like that going. Wasn’t it crazy to be thinking about moving to the Alaskan wilderness for a woman I hadn’t even been on a date with yet?

Maybe.

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