Page 6 of Crashing into Love

“You can take off now, Olivia. We don’t have anyone else checking in, and I can take care of anything else that comes up. We’ve got Howie on later.”

“Yeah? Cool. Thanks,” Olivia replied. “Wait… Are you sure? Have you even had a break today? What about Gia?”

“What about her?”

“I feel like you never see her.”

“Olivia, I appreciate the concern, but that’s a little inappropriate, don’t you think?”

“You’re right. Sorry. I’ll go home now and worry about myself.”

Selma gave the woman a small smile and watched her as she grabbed her purse from under the desk and headed to the employee parking lot, which was at the back of the building, through the kitchen. It was a very small employee parking lot that had lasted them for decades already, but it would have to get bigger soon because she’d hired several people, and they’d never had this many of them working here at once before.

Being on the mountain made any kind of expansion complicated, though. There was paperwork and permits, and they had to make sure they didn’t damage the trees or the ski runs, which were the whole reason for them being here. Presently, adding a few more spots shouldn’t be too difficult, so Selma thought about that as she walked around the tables to pick up all the trash and dishes that people had left behind. They had kitchen staff who were supposed to clean things up, but she’d sent them home after going up to her own room for a few minutes and returning downstairs.

Sending people home early saved them a bit on payroll, which helped her cut costs, and Selma had been all about cutting costs because, while snowboarding paid okay, she wasn’t in some major league sport where she could get millions a year and even more in sponsorships. She’d been lucky to get an endorsement deal with a shoe company that her agent had worked out for her. Her grandmother also needed the money from this place to live off, and Selma might end up having to take over the lodge one day when her snowboarding career was over, so she wanted to keep it in good shape.

After taking a gray plastic tub of drink glasses into the kitchen and running them through the dishwasher to return to the bar, she wiped down all the tables, and finally, feeling okay about how everything looked, she decided to check on the fire and return to the desk until Howie arrived to take the overnight shift for her tonight. What she saw by the fire was a surprise, though. Drew Oakes was sitting on the sofa, reading a book, and not a book on her phone. Drew was reading a paperback book that she’d probably found in the stack on the rack by the fireplace.

That had also been Selma’s idea. People could take a book or leave a book, and others could enjoy whatever they left behind. She wished they had space for a real library, but they’d have to take space from somewhere else for it, and any bit of available space they had needed to go to revenue-generating activities like the food, drinks, ski and board rental or purchases, or the very small spa they had. Selma thought about going back to the desk and saying nothing, but Drew was the only one downstairs since it was so late. Most people came back from their runs, hung out, had a drink or a meal, hung out a little longer, and then, the yawns would start, and they’d all head up to their rooms. Drew wasn’t in her room, though. She was sitting on Selma’s sofa, reading a book.

“Are you just going to stare at me all night?”

“What?” Selma asked, surprised, because Drew hadn’t even looked up to see her standing there.

“You stopped.” Drew looked up then. “And you’re just staring at me. Can you read this book from that far away? If you can, you should go on one of those TV talent shows to try to win some money.”

“I wasn’t staring,” she argued. “I was just surprised to see you down here. I thought you went upstairs earlier.”

“No, I’ve been down here the whole time.”

“You weren’t here a minute ago.”

“I went to the bathroom. Is that a problem, too?” Drew closed the book.

“No, I was only saying that I didn’t see you when I was at the desk before.”

“Are you keeping an eye on me or something? What exactly do you think I’m going to do here, Selma? I came here to ski and board, just like everyone else. I didn’t know you were related to the owner of this place.”

“I’m not keeping an eye on you. I work here, so I’m around. And you were definitely around tonight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Drew leaned forward and dropped the book on the table in front of her.

“You seemed to have a lot of fun talking about some girl you picked on.”

“What? I didn’t pick on her,” Drew argued. “My teammates did. Also, she was a bitch and wrong. I didn’t block her. Had I done that, they would’ve DQed me, and she would’ve gone through. But she didn’t, and I’d ended up winning the whole thing.”

“Yeah, I know. You bragged about that, too. All about your win by three seconds.”

“So? I’m not allowed to tell my friends stories?”

“I know that story, Drew. I was there. She didn’t yell at you. She just walked up to you and asked you why you cut her off. You made it seem like she screamed in your face or something. She didn’t.”

“You were there?”

“Yeah, I was. I’d raced before you and was waiting for my teammate in your heat before I left. I was standing right there when she came up to you, and it wasn’t at all how you made it sound. If your friends messed up her room, that’s not cool, but you said she stopped boarding a year later and failed to mention to everyone why that was.”

“I don’t know why it was. I just know she wasn’t there the next season. It’s hard to keep up with everyone coming in and out.”

“No, it’s not. And you either did, and you’re lying, or you didn’t because you thought she was beneath you or something. Both really suck, by the way. She left the team because her dad died, Drew. She had to go home to take care of her mom, who struggled a lot. She had a younger brother, too, and her mom needed help with him.”

“How do you know that?”

“I followed her on social, and I saw her stories. She decided to give up boarding and get a job close to home to be with her family. So, when you tell stories about her, maybe tell people that, too, so that they know she wasn’t an asshole to you and that she actually gave up her career and her dream to take care of her family. I think that might change your story, though, making you out to be the bad guy, so maybe you wouldn’t want to do that when you’re trying to make someone else out to be the villain.”

“Hey, I didn’t know, okay? And I didn’t lie: she was rude to me when she came up after that race. She accused me of something that was literally impossible because she was so far behind me, and she did it in front of everyone.”

“She was a kid, Drew. Seventeen, right? Maybe she didn’t know the etiquette, but you didn’t have to make fun of her a million years later.”

“Well, I’m sorry I had fun with my friends in your presence and you didn’t care for how I told an accurate story. I didn’t know why she quit. I was told she left the team, and I didn’t see her on tour. I don’t ask questions about stuff like that, okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“So, you’re pissed at me because of that?” Drew asked her. “Because I said something about someone you really only know through social media?”

“No, I’m not pissed at you at all.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, well, your body language says different.”

Selma looked down, dropped her arms to her side, and said, “That’s just how I stand.”

“Around me, apparently.”

“Around a lot of people. You’re not special. I think you have built up this idea of who you are or something, and–”

“Hey, I was just hanging out with my friends. You eavesdropped, and now, you’re calling me a not-special dick.”

“I didn’t call you a dick,” Selma argued.

“You were about to. And I’m not. I wasn’t telling that story to you.”

“I know,” she said.

“Okay. So, maybe just pretend you didn’t hear it or something and leave me alone. I’ll stay out of your way, and you stay out of mine until I go. I came here to relieve stress, not give myself more, Selma.”

Selma nodded and sat down in the chair across from Drew.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Is it that I’m a dick?”

Selma laughed a little and said, “No, it’s not.”

“Okay. Well, if you’re about to call me an asshole, that would be a dick move.”

“I’m not. Just…” She sighed. “Drew, you’re the reason I picked up a snowboard.”

“What?”

“You’ve probably guessed that you’re older than me?”

“Yes. No clue by how much.”

“I’m twenty-seven.”

“Thirty-six,” Drew shared as well.

“Yeah, I know. I know that because I watched a video of you boarding one day. Before that, I’d been mostly skiing and only doing some boarding. I don’t think I was going anywhere with it. Not exactly a prodigy or anything. And I liked it enough, but I don’t know that I would’ve gone anywhere with it. I honestly don’t know what I’d be doing now if I wasn’t boarding, but that’s another story altogether. My point is that I watched that video, and it was so clear to me that I was supposed to pick up a snowboard. I worried I was too old to start, but I got a coach, and he told me it was like I’d always been boarding. It felt that way to me, too, and after… Well, after some family stuff here, I went pro and never looked back. I only did that because of you. So, you need to understand that when I was in the same heat with you at the Olympics, it mattered to me more than any of the other competitions and events I’d seen you at or been on with you. I’d seen you in interviews, talking about how much it mattered to you to get there, and it mattered to me, too. I… I have people here whom I wanted to make proud by winning an Olympic medal of any color. And I didn’t think I had a real chance, but I never expected to crash out in the prelims. I definitely didn’t expect to take you down with me. I’ve lived with that guilt ever since. I’m not sure it’ll ever go away because, even if you win gold in the next Games, you could’ve won another medal, and I prevented you from doing that. So, I’m sorry, okay?”

“You said that then,” Drew stated.

“I know. But there’s still something here.” Selma pointed back and forth between them. “We’re clearly still not okay with each other.”

“Because you keep judging me for stuff you have no business judging me for.”

“They say it doesn’t always go well when you meet your idol…” she muttered to herself.

“Well, fuck you very much, Selma.” Drew stood up. “I can’t help it that you saw a video of me one day and decided to get on a board. Hell, maybe you should’ve stayed on skis. You could’ve still ended up working here, and I might have a medal around my neck right now, working on a second one.”

“That’s harsh,” Selma replied.

“You’re expecting kindness? You just basically called me at least a jerk, if not worse, even if you didn’t use the exact word. Then, essentially, you said it was disappointing meeting me when I didn’t ask to be your idol. I just want to get on my board, pop in headphones, and race. That’s it. I’m the happiest when I’m bothering no one because I’m three seconds ahead; sure as hell not when I’m minding my own business, reading a shitty crime thriller where it’s obvious on page thirty who the killer is, and getting picked on by someone who doesn’t know me at all but seems to think she does because she and I are in the same sport and have been to some of the same places together.”

“Drew, I–”

“I’m going to bed. I’m still a little drunk, and I don’t want to say anything I might regret in the morning.”

“You don’t regret anything you’ve said so far?” Selma asked.

“Do you?” Drew tossed back.

Then, she walked off toward the elevator, hit the button, and within seconds, the door opened and closed behind her right after.

“Yes,” Selma whispered to herself.

“Hey, boss,” Howie said as he walked out through the kitchen.

“Hey, Howie,” she greeted and stood up.

“Quiet down here this late, huh?”

“Yes, usually,” she replied. “Thanks for covering tonight.”

“No problem. Anything need done right now? I clocked in.”

“Actually, yes. Can you put in the system to send up breakfast to three-thirty-three tomorrow?”

“Sure. What do they want?”

“No idea,” she said.

“Sorry?”

“Just do the super one,” she said, referring to one of their breakfast options that came with a little of everything.

“The whole meal?”

“Yup.”

“How many people?”

“Just one. Juice and coffee, but maybe put orange and grapefruit on there. I don’t know what she drinks.”

“Okay. Sure,” he replied. “I’ll put it in now.”

“Thank you. I’m going upstairs, but call me if you need anything.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, make sure we’re good on cookies. There should be more in the kitchen. They baked a tray before they left for the night,” she added on her way to the elevator.

“Got it.”

Selma pressed the button and turned back to him.

“Have a good night, Howie.”

“You too,” he replied and walked behind the desk.

She got into the elevator, pressed the button for her floor, waited for the door to close in front of her, and let out a deep breath. Somehow, she’d managed to screw this up yet again.