Page 40 of Stuck on the Slopes

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is that what this is about?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay, now you’re just playing hard to get.”

As dryly as I could, I asked, “Did you find your last boss hot, too?”

“Ugh, hell no.” She shuddered and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “But I hope I’m not in trouble for thinking you’re handsome.”

“So am I hot or handsome?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

I laughed, letting my teeth show. “No, you’re not in trouble. Besides, I called you pretty, so consider us even.”

“Is that why?” Her hands found their way to her hips. “You wanted to even the score?”

“No. I wouldn’t have said that if I didn’t mean it. You should know me better by now.”

“Not sure if you’re trying to flirt with me or keep me humble, but touché.”

I shook my head. I wanted to smack myself for letting this conversation go off the rails, but at least she didn’t seem bothered by the fact I’d listened in. “Though, I did need your help with something. I’ve, uh, sort of been ignoring requests for comments from the press. They started blowing Edgar up because I’m not responding. I probably should have come to you sooner about it.”

“Hey, it’s okay. We can make something work. They want statements?”

“Yeah, especially now that we’ve landed on an opening date.” I huffed out an exhale. “I also would like you to help me figure out what to say to them. When, you know, they actually talk to us in person. We can’t live exclusively off of your PR.”

“Wanna do some practice sessions? We can role-play.”

I fought the urge to say, while I didn’t think role-play was my thing, I’d try anything at least once. “I’d appreciate that. Maybe after we can go over some job applicants together, too.”

“Sounds good to me!”

We made our way to my suite where I removed Sasquatch’s vest and tossed him one of his toys from a basket of them in the living room. Sasquatch chased it down the hall toward my bedroom where we could faintly hear it squeak.

In truth, I didn’t need media training. Rick made sure I’d had plenty of it as a snowboarder, and while I never followed any of his advice, it didn’t mean I hadn’t paid attention. No, I always had been a jerk. I hadn’t wanted to be there, not truly, and lashing out was easier than telling the truth. Telling the truth meant being vulnerable, something I learned was hardly ever worth the risk.

But I wagered Rachel was worth that risk. I didn’t have a choice, but even if I had, a part of me sensed I’d still be sitting here beside her, admiring the way she looked in the navy-colored dress she wore today, covered in a white and green winter floral print. Small buttons cuffed at her wrists as the sleeves billowed out in a light fabric. The dress reached midway down her calves but cinched at her waist with a belt.

I wanted to spend time with her. And today, she was a knockout.

She should wear this dress more often.

“You think so?”

I hadn’t realized I’d said that thought out loud. “Oh. Yeah. You have some hazel flecks in your eyes,” I said, trying desperately to sound factual rather than infatuated. “The green on the flowers really makes ‘em stand out.”

Rachel rose an eyebrow and smirked. “You are laying it on thick today,” she teased. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Hoping to seem nonchalant, I shrugged a shoulder. “You’re not usually so dressed up.”

“Laundry day,” she said as she sat on the couch, crossing one leg over her other knee. “My office attire is all I had left.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make it weird.” I grabbed my laptop and joined her, sitting with my knees spread to help open up my hip flexors. “In case you need it,” I said as I set the laptop down on the coffee table in front of us.

“You didn’t,” she said. “Ready to get started?”

---