Gold

by E. J. Noyes

  No big deal. I’d just take a few easy runs myself before heading home. I swapped my work jacket for my personal one and trudged back outside. By the time I made it out to the gear racks, I was fifteen minutes later than I said I’d be. You’re not showing a whole lot of professionalism in front of this woman, Archer. No matter, because Cate wasn’t even there. I tapped snow from my boots and put my skis on. I did say here, right? Well…no, I hadn’t but I assumed we’d meet in the same place as we did for our lesson. Silly, should have been more specific.

  I wasted time organizing things that didn’t need organizing and after a few minutes I noticed Cate walking carefully across the snow, carrying her skis and poles. She was on her phone and I raised a hand to catch her attention. Cate nodded and came over, and I caught the tail end of her saying goodbye to someone before she stowed the phone in her pocket. Her smile was automatic. “Hi, sorry to keep you waiting.” Her eyes stayed on me for an intense few seconds then flicked away.

  “No problem, I finished a little late so I’m glad you weren’t waiting.” Not strictly true but I didn’t want her feeling awkward, especially considering she was only here because of me.

  “Great.” She glanced up the slope. “You know, I appreciate you taking the time after work to run me down the hill a couple of times. I’m sure you’ve got important things to do.”

  “It’s my pleasure and I owe you one, remember?”

  Cate fiddled with her glove, still avoiding looking at me. Something was off. She’d come up from the street, which implied she’d only just arrived on the mountain. Or she’d been across the road in one of the cafés or bars. I dipped my head, trying to catch her eye. “Did you have a lesson today?” A quick flash of possessiveness made my breath catch. The feeling was both unexpected and unusual. I shoved it aside.

  “No,” she said quietly, finally meeting my gaze.

  “Did you ski at all?”

  “No, I was waiting for you. For this afternoon.” There was nothing flirtatious in her tone but there was something about the way she said it that felt intimate. I couldn’t quite pin it down. She seemed genuine enough but at the same time, was more unapproachable than yesterday. Something had shifted and my sneaking suspicion was that her mood was directly related to my meltdown from the day before. Wonderful. Another person alienated.

  Pasting on my professional face, I gestured in the general direction of the lifts. “We should head off or we won’t get much done before the lifts close.”

  Awkward, silent lift rides were the worst. After a few quiet minutes, I was about to blurt something just to break it, but Cate got in first. “Gem said you let them ride over some small jumps today.”

  I laughed. “Did she also tell you it was because she and Tim were pestering me to let them ski in the terrain park?”

  Her smile was tight and controlled. “No, she conveniently left that part out.”

  “Mmm, of course she did.” I grinned, and when she didn’t relax I added, “I only agreed because they were both ready. I wouldn’t let them do anything unsafe, Cate.” My voice had taken on the earnest seriousness it always did when I had to explain my actions.

  “I know that,” she said softly. Cate inhaled sharply as the lift jolted a couple of times then stopped dead, swinging with a slow rhythmic back and forth. Lifts stops were a standard event multiple times during my day, and were more of an annoyance than anything serious. I stared up the mountain, trying to see the top lift station but it was too far away. Cate tugged absently at the fastening of her glove, shifting in the seat. Everything about her screamed discomfort, from her rigid posture to the thin line of her usually expressive lips.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Mmm, just have a thing about heights. Hanging like this makes me really nervous.”

  “Trust me, it’s nothing to worry about. I spend half my day dangling above the snow from a cable.”

  “Mhmm. Rationally I know that, but…” She turned toward me. “Did you ever see that movie where the kids get stuck on the ski lift overnight?”

  “I’ve seen it, yeah. I promise that won’t happen to us.” I smirked, pointing to myself. “Star employee. There’s no way they’d leave me up here.”

  She murmured something indistinct, tugged off a glove then pulled a lip balm from her outer breast pocket. Trying to unscrew the lid, Cate fumbled and dropped the small pot. “Shit!”

  I leaned over, noting the small dot of color on the snow beneath us. “Good thing your gloves are clipped to your jacket.” I laughed. “Or I’d have to jump down and collect them.” Maybe a little humor would help.

  She graced me with a flicker of a smile. “True. Or I could have dropped my phone.”

  “I dropped an iPod once. By the time I rescued it, the thing was completely wrecked.” I ran my hand over the front of my jacket, trying to remember if I had lip balm. Not being my work jacket, it wasn’t as well stocked. I felt the hard case of my avalanche beacon, perpetually in my front pocket. Further patting found a small bulge that seemed the right size. Bingo. I unscrewed the lid and held it out for her. “I promise it’s one hundred percent cold sore-free. Hope you don’t mind, but I’ll keep hold of it ’til you’re done.”

  Cate smiled at my teasing and dipped a finger in. “Thanks.”

  “No worries.” I tucked the balm back into my pocket and looked forward to peer over the edge again. Admittedly, my intense interest in the resting place of Cate’s lip balm was more to do with stopping myself watching her rubbing a finger over her lips.

  “Why’s it taking so long?” She was getting fretful, pulling her glove back on and re-checking the fit, testing the strap on her helmet, tugging her ponytail tighter.

  “Not sure, but it’s not unusual,” I said calmly. “Someone probably took a tumble getting off.” The cable bounced a little, and we moved forward a few feet then stopped again as they adjusted the position of the cars up top. After a few seconds the lift began to reverse. Ugh, it was going to be one of those.

  Cate reached for my hand and grasped it tightly as we slowly went backward for ten feet. Through both our gloves I could feel the tremor in her hand. I hesitated, then squeezed as the lift jerked forward again before continuing its ride up the mountain. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

  Cate nodded, swallowing a few times before she answered, “Thanks. Sorry to be such a pain.”

  “It’s fine, and you’re far from a pain.”

  She didn’t let go of my hand until I lifted the bar at the top station and even then, I could sense reluctance. I rationalized that it was only because she’d just had a scare, she was upset and I was there. We rode another lift and then the T-Bar in silence, and all I could think about was the way she’d held onto my hand—both being comforted, and comforting me.

  Cate pushed off the bar, slid a short distance away and turned away from me. Over the sound of people chattering and the soft mechanical grind of the T-Bar, I heard a couple of quiet and indistinguishable words. Talking to herself? Psyching herself up? I waited a few feet away, looking around to make sure nobody was about to ski over the top of us. “Are you ready to rock?”

  Cate twisted back to me, mouth open in surprise, like she’d forgotten I was right behind her. She gave me a smile but it seemed forced, and unable to see her eyes behind her goggles, I couldn’t tell for sure. The smile wavered as Cate assured me, “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Great. Remember what we spoke about yesterday?”

  “Mhmm.” She adjusted her goggles. “I definitely felt better pushing myself harder.”

  “Exactly. That’s where I think you’re going to get the most gain, Cate. But think about the balance, yeah?” I lifted my hand and tilted it back and forth like a seesaw. “Not too far.”

  Cate hesitated again, the edges of her mouth turning down.

  “Hey, sure you’re okay?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Absolutely. Just…checking in with myself.”

  I tucked my chin into my scarf, t
rying to decipher exactly what she meant. “Well, all right then. After you.”

  She nodded and pushed off down the mountain, quickly gaining speed. Following her, I tried to focus on her posture, her form, and angles. The problem with that of course was all those things were made by her body. Her athletic and very pleasing-to-look-at body.

  Mind wandering, I thought about her out of snow gear. Graceful as she was, it was easy to think of her in a dress and heels. In jeans that clung to her ass. With jeans being tugged off that ass, slid down her thighs and tossed aside. Bad ski instructor. My mouth was suddenly dry and the gentle tug of arousal unmistakable. Not great while trying to ski.

  Thirty feet or so above the spot where the lift had stopped, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure nobody was behind me then turned sharply back up the hill. Realigning myself under the lift cables with a series of sideways hops, I swept my eyes around for where the balm had landed. After a few moments I found it, scooped it from the snow and skied hard to catch up to Cate.

  She was waiting near the bottom lift station when I arrived. “Thought you’d gotten lost.”

  “Psht!” I blew through my lips. “I never get lost on the mountain. I was just collecting something.” With a grand flourish, I presented the lip balm. “Madam, for you.”

  Cate stared at my hand, the smile starting slow and then gradually turning brilliant. It was the most genuine one I’d seen from her all day. “Thank you. I can’t believe you went to all that trouble.”

  Her gratitude made warmth trickle down my spine. “Seems like a nice one, thought I’d try and get it for you.”

  “It is, but it’s also just a lip balm.”

  I thought a dozen things, like I think it’s important to keep your lips soft in case you kiss someone, and you have nice lips. Don’t look at them. Do not look. Thankfully, my mouth stayed closed and my eyes up and away from those kissable lips. I shook my hand to catch her attention and Cate plucked the pot from my palm. I blew out a breath. “Are you ready for another run? We could sneak in a short one.”

  “Actually…no, I don’t think so. I’m going to go to the bar and drink away the memory of dangling in midair.” She gave an exaggerated shudder and unfastened her helmet, leaving her hair stylishly messy. Unlike most adults I encountered as an instructor, she made no move to tidy her hair, or smooth down her clothing. Clearly she skied because she loved it, not because it was part of some endless fashion parade. She seemed completely unaware of just how damned attractive she was.

  “Sounds like a great way to end the day.” I pulled my helmet and goggles off, and ran a hand through my own hair which would also be messy, but not stylishly so. I hastily covered it with a beanie pulled from my inside pocket.

  Cate cleared her throat and when I glanced at her, she met my eyes. “Aspen, I owe you an apology.”

  Her sudden eye contact and declaration caught me off guard. “You do?” I clipped my helmet strap together and threaded it over my arm.

  “Yes. I was abrupt and rude with you earlier and I’m very sorry.”

  I had no idea why she was apologizing because she’d been anything but rude. A little quiet perhaps, but certainly not rude. “Well, thank you. I appreciate your apology but it’s really not needed.”

  She ignored me to assert, “Yes, it is needed.” Cate slid her tongue along her lower lip. “I admire you very much, Aspen and after what happened yesterday I just, well I didn’t know how to feel about…how I felt about it. About you.”

  Stunned by her odd confession, I reacted the only way I knew how. Self-deprecation. It came so easily now that for an instant, I wondered when exactly I’d lost the last shred of confidence I’d had in myself. “Honestly, it’s fairly standard when most people meet me now. The reality doesn’t live up to the expectation.”

  “Is that what you think? You think I pity you? I don’t,” she said forcefully.

  I gave a noncommittal shrug and leaned on my pole. Pity was an intimate friend and it sure felt like that.

  “Oh, Aspen, I don’t.” Cate shuffled closer and grabbed my wrist. “You’ve got so much courage.”

  Smiling, I politely disagreed. “I think we established yesterday that’s not the case.”

  “You’re wrong. You’re afraid but you’re still out here doing what you love even when it hurts and it’s hard for you.”

  I stabbed the tip of my pole into the snow by my ski. Something strange sat at the back of my throat. Something that felt like longing. I wanted to keep talking to her, to explain, but that was inappropriate. I shouldn’t have worried, because Cate was breezing right past the boundaries. She laughed. “And now I’ve embarrassed you. I’m not doing very well, am I?”

  “I think you’re doing just fine.”

  She lifted her hand, holding the lip balm between gloved thumb and forefinger. “Can I buy you a drink for your troubles?”

  I acted like I was thinking about it. For a millisecond. “Sure, I’d like that. Meet you across the road in twenty?”

  Chapter Six

  In the staff room I pulled on snow boots, then tried to fix my hair. By fix I mean I stared at it in the mirror, decided it was pointless, and yanked my beanie back on to hide the haphazard arrangement. It was a ski resort—pretty much everyone wore hats inside.

  Cate didn’t. Waiting outside the bar for me, she was beanie-free—her hair still in a messy ponytail with escapees framing her face. Either she didn’t care what people thought or she thought her hair looked fine. It did. Better than. Thick and with the barest hint of curl, under the fading light outside, the ash blond shimmered like moonlight on the water.

  At my approach she looked up from her phone, her eyes making a quick sweep up and down my body. I’d been watched my entire life, so her scrutiny didn’t make me self-conscious but again I felt that unspoken expectation in her look. It was as though she wanted to say something or wanted me to question her about what she was thinking.

  Cate lifted her phone. “Sorry, just letting everyone know I’ll be late.” She tapped out a couple more words then smiled, one of those smiles that completely transforms a face. She went from fiercely concentrated to fiercely beautiful.

  I went from really interested to really smitten. “No worries,” I managed to articulate, while elbowing the door open.

  Schuss had its usual mix of resort employees and clients, mostly separated, except for a few instructors who were making small talk before excusing themselves to start some serious drinking. We’d arrived before the rush and there were a good number of tables and couches empty. One couch with a low table set in front of it caught my eye as being semi-private but not too weirdly intimate.

  I nodded at some of my coworkers and wondered how long it would be until a client recognized me. The answer was almost to the bar before a couple waved at me from a table a couple of feet away. I waved back and turned to Cate, smiling as apologetically as I could. “Please excuse me a moment.”

  “Sure.”

  I slipped around her to greet them with handshakes and a polite, “Helene, Léon, bonsoir.”

  Cate stood to the side while I engaged in a quick conversation about meaningless things like relaxing after a great day on the slopes and the weather forecast for tomorrow. At the first opportunity, I excused myself, assured them I’d catch them on the mountain tomorrow and wished them a pleasant evening.

  Gesturing Cate toward the bar, I kept my voice low. “Sorry about that, I’d like to say it won’t happen again, but it probably will. Clients are everywhere.” I almost touched her back, intending to guide her, but withdrew at the last moment.

  “Yes they are,” Cate said pointedly. She wore the smile I’d decided meant she was amused, a cross between a grin and a smirk. I decided that I wanted to put it on her lips as often as I could.

  “Ah.” I leaned as close as I dared. “But I’m here with you because I want to be.”

  “I’m pleased you don’t view this as a chore.” The words had a teasing lilt to them. “Yo
u’re fluent in French?”

  “Yes, more or less, and Japanese. But my accents are awful,” I admitted. “I also speak German, but really only enough to coach and order food and wine. Oh, and high school Spanish.”

  “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Aspen?”

  “I, well…I’ve spent a lot of time overseas and I like talking to people.”

  Cate studied me. “And you like to make them comfortable, even if it means going out of your way, or doing something you’re not happy with.”

  Her observation was spot-on, and made me flustered because I didn’t want her to feel I was there because I felt obligated. I tried to spin it in a good way. “Most of what I do is because I want to, but if I can help someone be comfortable, why wouldn’t I?”

  “Good point,” Cate said quietly, resting her hands on the bar.

  My gaze flashed to her hands. Beautiful and strong, yet delicate and feminine. Long tapered fingers, short neat nails manicured with pearlescent polish. It looked like the inset on my favorite cufflinks. “What can I get you?” I asked.

  Cate laughed. “I thought I was buying you a drink.” She nodded at the bartender, Petra, who started toward us.

  “Right. Habit, sorry.” I made it sound as nonchalant as I could.

  “You can buy the next ones,” Cate assured me. Did she mean the next round or the next time we had drinks together? Either possibility sent a shiver of excitement down my spine.

  Petra took in the scene in front of her with a deceptively casual expression. An incurable but likeable gossip, she’d probably corner me about Cate the first chance she got. I’d have to make myself unavailable, maybe on top of the mountain with a broken leg or buried under an avalanche.

  Cate tapped the bar to get my attention. “Aspen?”

  “Sorry.” I smiled contritely and gave her the name of a nice mid-range white wine I drank regularly. Cate ordered two glasses and we moved to the couch in the corner near the fireplace. I sat first and Cate settled next to me, in the zone that’s closer than where an acquaintance would sit, but isn’t close enough to be uncomfortable.