by Nina West
“So, is everyone getting together in the staff lodge tonight?” Tillie asks, watching herself in the mirror as she drags a scarlet lipstick over her bottom lip. I tried red lipstick on once, while getting dressed for Halloween, only to scrub it off minutes later. I looked like a clown. Tilly doesn’t, though. She looks sultry.
“Yeah. May as well enjoy the fun now before they work us to the bone.” Lorraine slides off her bunk and exchanges her magazine for a flask from the top drawer. I guess I missed the flask memo.
“Oh, please. I heard the massage therapists work six-hour shifts, max,” Tillie scolds.
Lorraine wiggles her hands in the air. “My precious hands need rest.”
“Those precious hands of yours better be giving my body a deep tissue massage after a long day of answering rich people’s stupid questions,” Autumn says, topping up her flask from a bottle of vodka. How much has she had? Is she always this friendly, or is she drunk? “Hey, Abbi, where’ll you be working?”
“I’m supposed to be doing Outdoor, but they put me in Housekeeping.”
“Oh, that’s where I am! We can go to the training session tomorrow morning together. Us redheads need to stick together.” Tillie’s obviously happy about this. I hate to burst her bubble and tell her that I’m being transferred as soon as Belinda sorts things out, so I keep quiet and simply smile.
“That Outdoor crew is a bunch of male pervs, anyway. They all stood behind the yoga team this morning and watched them walk through their sessions,” Rachel warns, peeling her shirt off. Katie follows suit. “We’re gonna grab a quick shower. We’ll meet you there, okay?”
“Sure thing. Hey, Abbi. You’re coming, right?” Autumn zips up her vest.
I’m exhausted. I’ve barely slept in the last two weeks, thanks to finals and nervousness over this trip. Fear of the unknown. Normally, I’d curl up in bed with a good book and read until I drift off. I even loaded my e-reader with about fifty novels to get me through four months of summer nights and off-work hours.
They’re all drinking, obviously, and not bothering to hide it. Back at college, people would have get-togethers, but they were tame and kept undercover as compared to what I’ve heard happens on other campuses.
This is all new to me.
But I want to have fun. Plus, it’s the best way to keep my mind off Jed and her in Greenbank.
“Sure. Yes.” They’re the kind of girls I never hung out with in school, though sometimes I wondered what it’d be like, to be their friends; to be a part of the “in crowd.”
“Great! The alcohol in the lodge is the only thing not subsidized, and it’s super expensive, so you’ll want to bring your own,” Autumn warns, adding, “Unless you’re made of money.”
I bite my tongue before I admit to them that I don’t drink. That I’ve never been drunk before in my life.
“Here. We can share until you can get to Homer to stock up next week.” Tillie thrusts her flask in my hand.
What if I refuse? Will I be buying myself a ticket to loser town with them?
This feels like high school all over again.
“Hey, can you guys save us seats on that couch by the fire?” Rachel asks. She hooks her thumbs under her panties and pulls them until they drop to the ground. Both she and Katie stand front and center in the room, buck naked, seemingly without a care in the world.
On our campus, girls changed before heading to the shared bathrooms, and they covered themselves with towels.
Another thing I’m going to need to get used to.
I bring the flask to my mouth and take a big, wince-inducing gulp.
~ ~ ~ ~
“So, you’re an es... esthe...” I can’t get the name out, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the word or the alcohol that Tillie’s been pumping into me.
“Esthetician. Yes.” Katie giggles, flipping her silky mane of blonde hair over her shoulder. “I worked for the Hilton for a couple years, but I got laid off last December. Wolf hired me on contract for this job. We’ll see how things go. Maybe I can get transferred to a permanent location when the season’s over. They have hotels all over the world.”
“What exactly does an esthetician do, again?” The closest place I’ve been to a beauty salon is Sheila’s Clip ’N’ Color shop on Main Street, back home. Sheila, my mama’s childhood friend, has been trimming my hair for as long as I can remember.
“Anything related to beauty and grooming. That’s me. That’s what I love.” All it takes is a once-over of her to see that. Perfectly shaped and painted nails, glowing skin, shaped brows. “Facials, chemical peels, mani-pedis, waxing, makeup application.”
“I’ve never had any of those things done,” I admit.
“Really?” Her blue eyes slide over my face. I don’t think she’s all that surprised. “You should let me do your eyebrows. It takes, like, ten minutes. Tops.”
“Does it hurt?” I glance around, suddenly embarrassed that someone can hear this conversation. I don’t see that happening, though. The staff lodge has come alive with laughter and music as compared to an hour ago when I was cramming in dinner. A guy with a beanie sits by the fireplace, strumming an acoustic guitar. If there was a piano here, I’d try to match his notes. That’s one thing that I will miss about not being back home for the summer: access to the piano in our family room. I’ve been playing since I was six; mostly church hymns though. Sometimes, when Old Mollie Simmons isn’t feeling well, Reverend Enderbey asks me to play at Sunday service.
“Not really. Well, not your brows, anyway.” She laughs. “It’s so worth it. Especially for the summer, when you don’t want to be worrying about stubble under your arms or bikini line. I can do it all for you, if you want. I do Rachel’s all the time, and she loves it.”
“But she’s bald down... there,” I blurt out, then blush because I’ve basically admitted to checking her out earlier.
“It’s a good look, trust me. Just say the word and I’ll clean you right up.” Katie winks. “And guys love it, too.”
Jed said he didn’t understand why a woman would want to make herself look like a little girl. He thought he’d prefer some hair. I wonder if he still prefers that.
Then again, I’m not doing anything for Jed anymore. Still... “I’d have to be drunk.”
She clanks her glass with my bottle of water. “Well then, cheers to that.”
“Hey, Abbi. I’m turnin’ in for the night. We have to be up in a few hours.”
Few hours? “What time is it?” I squint at my watch; the hands are blurry.
“It’s two. Training starts at nine, and if you don’t want to wait in line for a shower, you need to get in there before seven.”
Shit. How am I even still up? Especially with the time-zone change. “Okay. I’m coming.”
Katie squeezes my thigh affectionately, the simple touch making me feel all the more comfortable in this group of strangers. “We’re not too far behind you. Night.”
I stand. And take several stumbling steps into a tall guy.
He wraps his arms around my waist to steady me, but he doesn’t let go. “Whoa there, little lady. You okay?” He sounds like he’s from down south. He has that charming southern drawl, but it’s different from Tillie’s.
I tip my head back and peer into smiling emerald-green eyes. “Yup. But thank you for saving me anyway.”
He grins at me. “You sure are a cute little thing.”
“I don’t want to be cute,” I grumble. “Cute gets left on the sides while “hot” gets bent over the couch by my boyfriend because he can’t control himself.”
That wasn’t meant to be spoken out loud.
“Whoa.” The guy holds his hands in the air, palms out. I peel myself away from him and stumble to Tillie, my face burning, whispering, “I blame you and your devil juice for this.”
“I’ve got your water. You’re gonna need it.” She hooks an arm through mine and leads me out the doors and into the night.
“It’s warmer out here
than it was before. How did it get warmer?”
Her chuckles float into the darkness as we make our way down the path, lit with lampposts every twenty feet or so. “The magic of Jim Beam, that’s how.”
“I love your accent. You know that? Like, I could kiss your accent if it were an actual thing. It’s that hot. Isn’t it beautiful out here? I mean,” I let my head tip back, “look at this sky. You don’t get this kind of sky just anywhere.”
“I keep readin’ about those northern lights. I’m hopin’ to see them before I leave.”
“Aurora Borealis,” I murmur, closing my eyes and smiling, letting her lead me. That would be a sight.
Voices and laughter ahead catch my ear.
“Damn...,” Tillie murmurs appreciatively, and I follow her eyes to see what has caught her attention. Three guys stroll out of the men’s shower room, the white towels wrapped around their waists glowing in the dark. Each one of them is broad and hard and rippled with muscles.
I’ve only ever had eyes for Jed. Since February, I’ve had eyes for no one at all, uninterested in giving anyone a second’s thought. Maybe it’s the distance or the foreign world up here, or maybe it’s the alcohol, but I am appreciating this view. The alcohol is definitely giving me the confidence to ogle them shamelessly.
“And that would be your Outdoor crew.” A few steps closer, Tillie calls out with, “Good evenin’, gentlemen. It’s a little bit cold to be prancin’ ’round half-naked, don’t you think?”
The one closest to her, a blond with a casual swagger in his step, slows. “You offering to warm me up, Tillie?”
I guess they’ve already met.
“That’s what the robes in your cabin are for.” She flashes a deceptively sweet grin back at him. It must be a southern thing, because all the women from the south have that smile down pat.
He steps into her personal space—and, by default, mine, since our arms are still linked—but she stands her ground. “But you’re so much warmer.” His pretty blue eyes turn to settle on me. “And who’s this lovely young lady?”
“This is Abbi from Pennsylvania.”
“She another roommate?”
“That’s right.”
Turning his gaze back to Tillie, his eyes settling on her perky chest, he murmurs, “What I’d do to get into that cabin of yours.”
I can’t tell if he’s talking about literally coming to our cabin, or if he’s being figurative, but I do know that either way, it involves sex.
“Like a fox in a hen house, right? Y’all have a good night, now.” Tillie leads me around him and farther down the path.
I glance over my shoulder and see them still watching us. The blond winks at me and I can’t keep the stupid grin from taking over my face. “How do you know them?”
“I met Connor last night. He’s as smooth as freshly churned butter, that one. Watch out for him, if they sort out your job situation. He’ll charm the pants right off of you by lunch hour.”
“Maybe that’d be a good thing. Jed is taking his pants off for the jezebel every day now and he wants me to cross my legs until he’s ready to come back. Why should he get to have all the fun?”
“Jed? The ex-boyfriend?”
“Ex-fiancé.” I’m still numb to the earned title of “ex.” “He cheated on me and broke my heart, but I’m supposed to wait for him to get her out of his system. That’s why I’m in Alaska.” The knot that normally springs up in my throat at the mention of Jed stays down and out of sight for once. That’s a relief. Maybe this is the trick to getting over him. Alcohol and scantily clad hunks.
“Ouch.” She gives my arms a squeeze. “Well, don’t you worry, hun. There is plenty to choose from here to make you forget about Jed and the jezebel.”
“Jed and the jezebel. That could be the title of a play or something.”
“I’d rather watch the ‘Abbi Gets Even with A Hot Dude’ play.”
I laugh. Tillie’s so sweet, and caring. I really like her. And I feel the urge to wrap my arms around her and give her a giant hug, so I do.
Her melodic laugh carries through the night. “Oh, dear Lord. Maybe not so much Jim Beam next time. You may regret it in the mornin’.”
“But it’ll have been worth it, because I had so much fun tonight.” Mama clearly hasn’t ever drunk before, because if she knew how much fun it is being drunk, she wouldn’t want to deprive me of it. I’ve become so comfortable around the other Wolf staffers so quickly.
“Yeah, we’ll see. Make sure you finish that water before bed. And maybe take some Advil.”
Cabin seven arrives too soon, and I’m feeling alive for the first time in forever. “I’m going to hang out here for a few more minutes, enjoy the fresh air. It’s helping me clear my head.”
“All right. But be quiet when you stumble in, you hear? Lorraine went to bed already.” Tillie swipes her key card and disappears inside.
I want to go for a walk. The staff village is behind the lodge and separated from the guest section by a thick cedar hedge and decorative fencing. It’s a bit like a secret garden. I’d like to investigate it during the daylight. Right now, though, I wander along the path, pocket flashlight in hand in case I need it, my sneakers crunching beneath the gravel. Even in the middle of the night, it’s beautiful. The paths are well lit, and there are security cameras everywhere. I feel safe. I’m not normally so comfortable with walking around alone at night. I’m sure once the hotel opens in a few days, I won’t have the luxury of this absolute quiet.
A squirrel leaps from its branch and runs across the path in front of me, giving me a moment’s pause. Do I have to worry about coming face-to-face with a wild animal? No. Belinda mentioned the electric fences around the perimeter.
I make my way past the hedge and over to the main guest area, eyeing the honeycomb of balconies above me. Each will be alive with guests soon. Apparently they all have hot tubs. I’ve never been in a hot tub before. These ones are for guests only, though. As are both the indoor and outdoor pools, and the hot springs. Basically it sounds like the only thing the staff is allowed to swim in is the bay, at the small staff beach I haven’t yet seen.
I wonder how cold the water is. Is it warmer than the air?
I could dip my fingers in and check...
Before I can think it through, I turn down the path toward the docks that I arrived on earlier, stumbling over a rock before I manage to regain my footing. I’m drunk. I need to be more careful if I’m going near the water.
The dock at night is picturesque, marked at the edges with lanterns, as well as several coach lights. Beyond that is nothing but darkness and stars.
My feet hit the cedar planks with a thump. “Shh!” I warn, and then laugh, because no one’s out here and I’m talking to myself. Down the long path I go, past the ferry, past a sizeable white boat, the waves lapping quietly at its side to make a soft thumping sound, to the end, marked by a tall rod with a light on the tip.
Dropping down to my knees, I lean forward, stretching my fingertips outward.
My glasses slip off my nose and plummet into the deep waters.
“No!” I cry, stretching my arm far in my useless attempt to grab them.
A sudden pounding of feet behind me is the only warning I get before hands seize my waist and yank me back and to my feet.
“What the hell are you doing?” an angry male voice exclaims.
“My glasses fell in!” I cry.
“Forget them. They’re gone.”
“I can’t forget them!” They’re my only pair and I can barely see ten feet in front of me without them. Sure, I brought contacts because I wear those while working outdoors, but I need my glasses.
“They’re gone,” he reiterates. “What on earth are you doing out here, anyway?”
“I wanted to see how cold the water was.” His hands are still gripping my waist as if afraid I’m still going to fall in. I try brushing them away but they’re like vise grips.
“I promise you, it’s freezin
g. Though you almost took a nosedive in and found out for yourself.”
I scowl. “You’re exaggerating.”
“I was watching you the entire time. I’m surprised you even made it on two feet this far.”
I squint into the light to see exactly who is scolding me, but his back is to the lamppost and his face is cast in shadow. All I can see is a dark mop of hair and a beard. “Why are you lurking out here in the middle of the night, anyway?”
“I wasn’t lurking,” he mutters. “I was enjoying a peaceful night on my boat and I heard you stumbling up the dock.”
I frown, peering over at the boat in question, now even blurrier than before. “I didn’t notice anyone there.”
“Not surprised. Come on. You need to go to bed.” His hand slides around my lower back and prods me toward shore.
A rare defiant streak surges. I didn’t fly thousands of miles away from my overbearing mama only to be scolded and ordered around by a stranger. I jab his chest with my finger. “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not the boss of me. The boss is the boss of me. And he can boss me.” I’m not sure that made much sense.
“And who is he?” Amusement laces his tone.
“I don’t know. Some arrogant big bad wolf billionaire who sleeps with Victoria’s Secret models and changes women like underwear. He sounds like a complete jerk. But you’re not him. You’re...” I’m leaning against his chest now. A broad, solid chest, his muscles hard against me. I reach up with the hand I used to poke him to touch the few weeks’ worth of growth covering his face, my fingertips scratching across the coarse hair. “A lumberjack.”
“A lumberjack.”
“Yes. With this beard and this,” I rub my hand over his flannel checkered jacket, sitting open, and then to the shirt beneath, reveling in the ridges of his stomach. “Definitely a lumberjack. Did they hire lumberjacks to cut wood for that giant fireplace in there? They’ve hired people for everything else. I mean, seriously, who comes up to Alaska to get their pubic area waxed and their hair colored? And yet there’s a full-service salon!”
His hands have found my waist again. He takes several steps backward, pulling me along with him.
