“Sweet crowd, dude,” Mac exaggerated, surveying the nearly empty patio that was illuminated by several firepits, propane heaters, and a blueish glow from the moonlit snow.
There couldn’t have been more than 20 people, most of whom worked at one of the two resorts. It had become a bit of a ritual, since Icon’s staff wasn’t allowed to congregate on-premise after hours, they typically made their way to the Beaver Lodge for a drink when the day was done. And until the weekend when things really took off, this was about as exciting as it got.
Kai Stone ignored the comment from his DJ stand, locked in on the music, hunched over the turntables like he was headlining a massive EDM festival. Always a professional.
“Have you seen Erica?” Mac shouted, considering what his best friend might do if he reached over and turned the large nob that looked like it might control volume. Why not go even louder…I can still hear my own thoughts.
Having been ignored again, Mac wondered over to the mobile bar stand that was parked on the snow by the edge of the patio and ordered himself a beer, then claimed a table as far away from the raucous action as he could.
She wasn’t the type to be late for things, even when she was pretending to be mad. He knew he shouldn’t care, yet somehow, he wanted his last week here to be memorable. To end things on a high note, not squabbling about irrelevant details like saying you were going to quit something when in reality you only nearly had. Semantics.
He scraped at the stubby beer bottle’s label, wondering if he should just give her a call. No way, too desperate. That’s what miserable people in relationships did.
He nearly screamed, jumping to his feet from the shock. Somehow, Erica had managed to sneak up behind him, jamming her frozen hands into the deepest recesses of his armpits. You cruel woman.
She flung her bag down, taking his pre-warmed seat and sliding his beer over. “Thanks for getting me one, dick.”
Guess you’re sitting there now? “Figured you’d be too cool for us common folk after today.”
“Never forget the little people. That way if things don’t work out in Hollywood, I’ll still have somewhere to fall back on and people to impress.”
“You in Hollywood,” he snorted. “Now that would be entertaining.”
She made a face, pretending to be hurt. “A girl can dream, can’t she?”
“Not really, no.” She was way too direct to be anything other than who she was. Hashtag not a leading woman.
“What, you don’t believe in my on-screen abilities? Or am I just too ugly, which is it?”
“Having a room full of people telling you what to say, do and wear…be a bit of a problem don’t you think?”
“Then that settles it.” She covered her face, pouting her lips dramatically. “I’m just too ugly.”
Mac used the opportunity to glance down at her chest, which seemed to be bursting out of a flannel button up, the goods barely hidden behind a white tank top. Three buttons undone…might as well be an invitation.
One of her best qualities, aside from the obvious physical ones, was that she could take a joke. She wasn’t easily offended, understood the difference between being mean and playful, and could dish it back about as well as anyone he’d ever met. Mostly though, she was comfortable in her own skin, a trait that seemed elusively rare, especially for the women he’d met around here.
“At least now you know why I chose the corner table,” he said, regaining seriousness. “Can’t have my reputation soured by some rando hood rat.”
She rolled her eyes, coiling a strand of silky black hair with a finger.
“But I did promise you a drink, so pick your poison. Beer, tequila, probably the plastic bottle kind, or might I interest you in a nice glass of their house red? I think it’s a blend.” Whatever the hell that is.
“Wow, one whole drink? You must be horny.” She made a show of weighing her options, looking over at the glorified beer cart on skis. “So this red blend, can you guarantee it’s all wine? Or do you imagine it’s been cut with some sort of juice for added flavor profile?”
“Maybe stick with the tequila…just to be safe.”
He returned a minute later with two shots, lime wedges and a round of beers, wondering why Kai was unable to read the room, his music blasting like the place was packed. Damn jackass. “I didn’t want to give off the wrong impression or anything, so I started you a tab for the beer.”
“So posh,” she said, fanning her face.
They eyed each other, taking the shot, biting the lime in a well-rehearsed dance of trying to figure out what the other was thinking without asking directly.
“What took you so long?” he finally asked, hoping it wouldn’t pertain to her new celebrity work crush.
“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “you remember that time I said Ellis wasn’t so bad?”
He laughed at the obvious. “Sure do.”
“I take it all back. He is one thousand times worse than I could have ever imagined.” She grabbed the shot glass, licking off the remaining salt as her face twisted from the afterglow.
“It’s an acquired taste. You’ll get over it.” Eventually.
“Maybe I won’t have to.” She looked at him, this time the play was all but gone. “A funny thing about being treated like an object. You start to consider whose fault it really is.”
Mac repositioned his weight on the faux wooden chair. “You think it’s your fault he treats you like shit?”
“No. I believe it’s my fault for letting him. And,” she paused, looking down at the table before finally finding his eyes. “And I believe it illuminated the error in my ways. That’s why I was late at least, I was writing a new piece for my blog. Like all these feelings I’ve been sorting through finally coalesced into a coherent thought. I had to get every last bit of it out. Before it disappeared.”
She had always impressed him. Graduate school, the blog, her general disregard for enjoyment of free time. Even the way she thought and navigated the world; it was just so different from how he operated. And somehow, he was going to have to say goodbye to all those fascinating pieces of her. Maybe tell her now and get it over with…or tomorrow. Definitely this weekend.
“In any case,” she said, bringing his attention back, “after thinking it through I came up with two conclusions.”
“Wow, only two?” Look who’s simplifying things. “Hit me with ’em.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll just come out with it,” she said, returning her eyes to the table as if avoiding something. “Mac, I can’t do this anymore. I thought I might wait until the end of the night to tell you but…well, here we are.”
“Sorry, what?” he asked, having to raise his voice over Nicki Minaj rapping about starships, while making an ADHD mental note to chat with Kai later about his volume-to-people ratio. Clearly the guy doesn’t get it.
“I can’t do this. Us. You. The acting casual and keeping feelings out. I’m done. I don’t want any part of it.”
“Oh.” Mac looked down at the table, unsure of what to say. Was she seriously breaking up with him? We’re not even dating. The whole thing felt so strange, because…he cared. She’d always said this lifestyle was temporary, that she didn’t want to be tied down to anything serious. They both had. And a part of him loved playing along, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind this separation was inevitable. The future is here, pal. “Why now?”
“I guess because things change. Feelings change. You though Mac, you don’t seem to.”
“I can change,” he said defensively more than sincerely, though there was conviction in there somewhere. Also, why should I? He was content, things had been alright, there would be other girls, wouldn’t there? Not like her, there won’t.
“You? Change?” She laughed. “Right. Be serious for a moment, would you? Here I am pouring my heart out and you’re fooling around, perfect example. And it’s fine, really, be who you’re going to be just don’t lie to get what you want. It’s disingenuous.”
“Hold on.” He put his hands up. “What’s this really about? The weed? Cuz I told you-”
“If you want to keep destroying your body with that garbage, by all means.”
“Then what? The promotion?” He laughed. Shit, you’re serious? “You and I both know I wouldn’t make a good ski captain. I’m just not built for that type of thing.”
“No Mac, you know you wouldn’t. I just want to see you go for something. To fucking try. For once.” She took in a breath, probably attempting to compose herself. “At least I did.”
His stomach dropped. Or maybe that was the tequila on no dinner. A horrible feeling either way. Here she was handing him a peaceful withdrawal from the relationship that definitely was not a relationship, and he was unprepared to deal with it. He didn’t want it or he wasn’t ready for it or he wanted to prove her wrong – whatever it was, it bothered the hell out of him. “So…this is it then? How it ends?”
“I’m afraid so,” she said in hardly a whisper, wrapping the flannel around her chest.
No more goodies? Confused and disoriented, Mac stood up. “Can you give me a minute?”
“I guess?” She was clearly baffled by his reaction but stayed seated all the same.
The music, the talking, the reality of what was happening, it was all just a lot. He had to get out of there before he said something he might regret, or maybe worse, said nothing at all and let her go. He didn’t know, his mind was a clusterfuck of Shaboozey and NSYNC being mashed together in a crude weave of anxiety provoking overstimulation.
He made for the lodge door, glancing over at Kai on his way. Literally dude, any other time.
Kai’s expression was pure bliss, hands cupping his mouth as he shouted a two-syllable word like he’d been eavesdropping on their conversation the entire time. Puss-y.