Page 13 of Release Me

I watch as she fits her skis, telling me the order in which to do things before turning to watch me do the same with mine. I apparently get it right the first time, because she gives me a nod and a smile before continuing.

“We’ll just start with the bunny hill. Keep things easy and light just to get you used to stopping.”

“Sure,” I reply as she proceeds to show me what she calls the pizza for how to stop when I’m going too fast.

As I stand here watching her, I can see she’s both a really good skier and a really good teacher. She’s very calm and patient, particularly when, on my first few attempts, I do need some steadying. Which is good, even if it doesn’t exactly help my situation.

Having Zoey’s hands on me as she makes sure I don’t fall is extremely distracting and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it every time she did it. Lying if I said I wouldn’t mind more of it, minus the ski gear too.

“Okay, you feel like you want to try actually going down something a little bigger?” she eventually asks when I get the hang of moving forward and stopping.

“Sure,” I say with a laugh. “Let’s do it.”

With a hand on my back, she pushes us over to a small slope, steadying me even though I don’t need it before she moves to the bottom to wait for me. It’s only a couple of feet and it’s hardly steep, but I’m more concerned about fucking it up and taking her out on my way down.

“You good?”

“Are you?” I ask.

She smiles, giving me a thumbs up and a nod of encouragement. Taking a breath, I push off with my poles and manage to ski down the small slope toward her without fucking it up. Zoey is still there though, her hands ready and I don’t stop her when she automatically puts them on my waist as I come to a perfect stop in front of her.

“Wow, you sure you’ve never skied before?” she asks.

I grin. “Not snow skied, no.”

She raises a brow at me, her hands still on my hips. “Water skied?”

“Uh huh,” I say. “Spent a few weeks in the French Riviera and skied practically every day.”

She lets out a snort. “Of course you did,” she says, laughing.

“What, you haven’t?”

She shakes her head at me, still laughing. “Yeah, I have, we do it here on the lake in summer. It’s the French Riviera part I was laughing about.”

“You ever been?” I ask, my mind immediately goes to what Zoey would look like in a wetsuit…hell, in a bikini even.

“No, never,” she says. “I kinda went straight to college after school and spent most of my off time here, skiing or whatever. I mean, I’ve traveled, sure, but not there.”

With a chuckle, I reply, “Well, I do have ten years on you, so there’s still time.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize what I’ve done. Yeah, I knew how old she was already, but only because she works for me and knowing that shit is standard.

But it’s the implication that I’ve actually considered our age gap that has me wondering what she’s thinking. Does ten years bother her? Does she look at me and see nothing but an old guy she’d never consider more with.

And seriously, why the fuck am I even thinking about this? Sure, the age gap doesn’t bother me, not in the slightest, but the fact she’s my employee fucking should.

Jesus christ, I’m losing my mind here.

Zoey looks up at me, a curious look on her face. I wish I knew what she was thinking right now, but before I have a chance to say anything, she asks, “You have any siblings?”

I burst out laughing, wondering at the sudden change in conversation. “Yeah, a younger brother,” I tell her. “He lives in LA.”

Zoey smiles up at me. “What does he do, create empires as well?” she teases.

“No, he’s a photographer,” I reply with a smile as she indicates the top of the slope with her pole as if to ask if I want to try again.

Nodding, I turn and make my way back to the top, Zoey once again waiting at the bottom for me. “What kind of photography?” she asks as I get ready to ski down.

“Fashion mostly,” I say, pushing off as I coast down to her.

---