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Open Skies

Page 5

by Marysol James


  **

  Rosie Yates was standing on the fourth level of the Jeppesen terminal at the Denver International Airport. She was thrilled that the new boss was arriving on Southwest Airlines: that gave Rosie the perfect excuse to swing in to Ben & Jerry’s near Gate A and grab a cup of their Cheesecake Brownie ice cream. She was a hardcore ice cream fan, and it was a personal tragedy for her that there was no Ben & Jerry’s in Clarity.

  With deep regret, she scooped the last bite of her treat and tossed the container in to the recycling bin. She glanced up at the arrivals table, and saw that Julie Everett was now in Denver, right on time. She sighed and tried to stay positive. Maybe everyone was wrong, and Dave’s daughter would be a good thing for Open Skies Ranch. Rosie hoped so, anyway.

  She only had to wait about thirty minutes when she saw a woman looking at her closely. Rosie held up the sign with Julie’s name written on it and grinned encouragingly.

  Julie looked at the young woman holding the sign with her name and walked over to her. As she approached, she looked her welcoming party up and down. The young woman was maybe in her twenties – Julie guessed this must be Rose-Anne, one of the groomers and trainers. She was dressed in tight black jeans and a button-down blue denim shirt and a lined jean jacket; she had a few chunky silver rings on her fingers, and her boots were brown leather and very flat. She was pretty, in an outdoorsy, all-American, healthy kind of way. This girl looked like she breathed fresh air every day and drank all her milk. Her blonde hair was thick and lustrous and her teeth were straight and disturbingly white.

  Julie reached the young woman and said, “Hello. I’m Julie Everett. Are you Rose-Anne?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Those teeth flashed as she spoke. “But everybody calls me Rosie.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Julie nodded. “Shall we go?”

  “Sure.” Rosie gestured at the trolley, piled high with what looked like very expensive luggage. Louis Vuitton was expensive, right? “Do you need a hand?”

  “No. Thank you.”

  “OK, then. I’m parked over here. Follow me.”

  They walked through the DIA, and out to the parking garage. When Julie saw what Rosie had come to get her in, she stopped, disbelieving.

  “I’m sorry. Is that a pick-up truck?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Julie looked at her luggage, and back at the truck. “And where do my bags go, exactly?”

  “In the back.” Rosie looked puzzled.

  “On the filthy floor? Exposed to the elements?”

  “Of course not.” Rosie laughed. “I have a new carpet laid down, and I have a clean tarp to cover your luggage.”

  “Oh. A tarp. What a relief.” Julie sighed. “I don’t believe this.” How am I meant to look all competent and professional, pulling up in this thing?

  “I’m very sorry. I didn’t think your luggage would be so fancy.” Rosie looked distraught. Oh, my God… this is my boss! I’m pissing her off within three minutes of meeting her. She hates me. Oh, God. She’s going to kill me with that death stare. Jesus, she’s scary.

  “No, it’s fine. Go ahead and cover it all up.”

  Julie climbed in to the passenger side of the truck. Jesus Christ, she wasn’t wearing the right kind of shoes to have to clamber up and in to this piece of crap mode of transportation. Right at this moment, she was bitterly wishing that she’d arranged to take a taxi the hour’s drive from Denver to Hicksville, Colorado.

  She sighed and looked out the window, wishing that she was back in New York with Tammy. They could be all dressed up and sipping wine at a club right now, gossiping and talking about Tammy’s latest mistake in the relationship department. Instead, she was here. Wherever here was.

  Rosie got in and started up the engine. She turned to Julie. “I’m really sorry, again.”

  “Are all my bags covered adequately?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Fine.”

  Rosie pulled out and started to count down the seconds of the drive back to Clarity. She had a feeling that being stuck in a truck with Julie Everett was going to be a very uncomfortable experience: the temperature in the truck had actually dropped several degrees, and the cold was just coming off Julie in waves.

  Any hope that Rosie had of Julie being a good thing for Open Skies had disappeared. She thought longingly of Dave Reid – big, loud, bluff, and always laughing and joking and warm. How could this woman actually be his daughter? Surely that had to be a mistake. No way he’d ever father this robot.

  Rosie glanced over at Julie, who was glaring out the window at the passing scenery, looking very unimpressed. Rosie found her internal hackles rising: OK, so maybe it wasn’t New York, with its skyscrapers and neon lights and money buzz, but around the DIA was pretty amazing. Gorgeous, actually, with the sky so blue overhead and the mountains visible in the distance. How did this bitch not see it?

  Within fifteen minutes, they were out on Highway 25, speeding south towards Clarity. Rosie cast around in her mind, desperate to make conversation. What to talk about with a woman like this?

  Rosie had seen plenty of rich women at the ranch. They showed up with their husbands and kids for weekends and week-long stays in the summer, or with their boyfriends for romantic weekends, and they all had a soft, cultured look about them. Their skin was tight and toned, and their jewelry and wardrobe took her breath away sometimes. Most of them were nice, some were snobs, very few were openly bitchy.

  But none of them were like Julie Everett. Rosie had been blown away by Julie’s face and body at the airport: short and curvy, she had the perfect hour-glass figure. She had slim shoulders and what Rosie had heard referred to as a hand-span waist. But Julie wasn’t straight up-and-down slim; her breasts were large and rounded and looked natural, and her hips and ass curved out and in again. She looked amazing in those grey pants and snug little coat accentuating all the right things in all the right places and it was astounding that she could even walk in those sky-high shoes.

  Rosie had tried on her Mom’s high heels a few times and just couldn’t figure out how to keep from toppling over in them. It baffled her how she could maintain perfect balance on a charging stallion, but she fell over in shoes. Julie looked like she’d been born in stilettos – she was like someone who had just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine, and Rosie had been dazzled.

  It was her face, though, that had really stopped Rosie in her tracks: Dave’s eyes stared out from it, but with none of Dave’s humour and kindness. Julie’s eyes were clear green, cold, detached. It bothered Rosie to see her beloved former boss’ best feature in such a set, unyielding face. It was a gorgeous face – that wasn’t to be denied. But so, so stony. Rosie simply couldn’t imagine those plump little lips actually curving up in to a smile of genuine warmth.

  The silence stretched out, and Rosie decided to take another stab at it. Maybe Julie was just tired. She opted for mundane conversation, to test the waters.

  “So… how was your flight in?”

  “Fine. Thank you.”

  “That’s good.

  “Yes. It is.”

  “Did you – did you maybe have any questions for me?”

  Julie turned slowly to look at Rosie. “Questions? About what?”

  Rosie shrugged. “About the ranch?”

  Julie looked back out the window. “No. I think I’ll figure things out for myself. When we get there.”

  Rosie flushed and stopped talking. OK, she’d tried. If Julie Bitch-face Everett wanted to start things off this way, it was her choice.

  Rosie was young for her age, and friendly, and optimistic. But she was also smart enough to know when something was a lost cause, and she had way too much pride to keep trying to get this statue to hold up her end of the conversation. She drove, silent, doing her job. She’d never been treated as ‘just an employee’ at Open Skies, not ever, in almost three years.

  If this was how things were going to be under the new management, she didn’t think she�
�d be sticking around for much longer. The thought broke her heart.

  **

  Julie wasn’t able to breathe freely until Polyanna Cowgirl had stopped talking to her. Staring out the window at all the space, and the mountains, and the enormous sky, had finally hit it home to her: she was actually doing this. She was going to a ranch. A ranch that her father had willed to her, after more than thirty years of absolute silence from him, of not having any clue at all who he was, or where he was, or what he was.

  The annoyingly chipper girl next to her was slowing down now, turning off the main highway. Julie saw a large sign next to the road: ‘Open Skies Ranch – 7 miles’.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Almost there. OK, breathe. Come on, now, girl. You are not going to freak out in front of all your staff. It’s just not going to happen. Blue. Blue.

  She saw the buildings in the distance, and tried to look at them objectively, the way a potential buyer would, with no emotional attachment or meaning. Her practiced eye took in the architecture, the design and layout of the grounds, the roads in and out.

  Hmmm. OK, good space here, no doubt about that. She saw five cabins of varying sizes, arranged in a circle, but all quite a distance away from each other. That ensured privacy – a big plus for guests, she knew. The backdrop was stunning, actually: all the cabins were built right in to the side of the mountain, or at least that’s how it looked. They resembled mushrooms, just popping out of the ground at the foot of the Rockies. The view from inside the cabins would be breath taking. Each cabin had a chimney, so she guessed that there were fireplaces inside. Romantic and picturesque and wildly popular with the tourists, fireplaces always photographed well in marketing materials and increased interest in property sales.

  As they came a bit closer, Julie saw one very large cabin, completely separate from the five in the circle. It had two floors, while all the others only had one, so she guessed it was the offices. Maybe the restaurant.

  They were driving past a fenced area now, and she saw horses inside of it. This must be the corral (was it called a corral? Oh, who the hell cared). It was massive, and she counted eleven horses prancing around, some with riders, some just standing around and chewing on something. Just past the enclosed area was a large building, which she assumed were the stables. Her nose wrinkled as they passed the building. Oh, yes. That was definitely where the revolting creatures were kept.

  Rosie drove past the tennis courts and pulled up to a large building with a sign on the front which said, ‘Reception’ and a second one, hung next to it, which read, ‘Restaurant’. So, this must be the main building, with the offices; she idly wondered what that other large cabin was, then. She stared at the reception building, pleased with what she saw. It was constructed out of a deep golden wood and had huge windows facing in every direction. It would have good light inside, she was relieved to see.

  The truck stopped, and Rosie turned off the ignition. She turned to Julie. “Welcome to Open Skies Ranch, ma’am.”

  “Ummm-hmmm,” Julie responded, opening her door and trying to climb out gracefully. Her high heels sank in to the ground and she scowled. Good Lord, she’d definitely have to invest in some damn flats, or else she’d be pinned in place with her spikes.

  The door of the main building opened, and a group of people came out. Julie saw a woman with long, silver hair blowing in the breeze, a young man in a suit, and a second man in jeans and a t-shirt. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. OK. Let’s go meet your staff.

  The silver-haired woman came down a few steps to meet her. “Oh, Miss Everett. What a delight to meet you!”

  No, it’s not, really, Rosie thought.

  “Hello,” Julie said in a neutral tone.

  The older woman didn’t even blink. “I’m Mattie Velasquez. But I suppose you’d have guessed that already, am I right? This here is Rob Cathay. He’s your Head of Sales. And this is Joe Foster, who does lots of the handy work around the place – repairs and deliveries, and the like.” She paused. “We’re all so sorry about your Daddy.”

  My Daddy? Seriously, lady? What am I – five years old?

  Ignoring Mattie’s mention of David Jackass Reid, Julie nodded at the two men, both of who were looking her up and down, taking in her legs and breasts and hair.

  Don’t bother, fellas, Rosie thought. The chick’s a machine. You’d be better off hitting on the coffeemaker. At least it’s warm.

  “Now, you must be tired,” Mattie carried on brightly. “So Joe’ll grab your luggage and carry it on over to where you’ll be staying… you get the nicest cabin, the one with the best view.” She pointed at the large building with the two floors. “That’s the Big House, we call it.”

  “Was that the former owner’s home?” Julie asked.

  “It was,” Mattie answered, a bit taken aback that Julie was referring to her father in that way. “Is that OK?”

  “No, not really. I’d prefer to stay elsewhere.”

  Mattie looked uncertain. “Well, I haven’t really set up things for you anywhere else…”

  “I’m assuming the guest cabins are all ready for residency? Sheets on the beds, water and electricity turned on, heat?”

  “Yes,” Mattie said.

  “Are they all booked at the moment?”

  “No. We have one free for the next – what is it, Rob? – the next week?”

  “Yep. Cabin four is free for the next seven days.”

  Julie shrugged. “OK. So I’ll just stay in that one.”

  Mattie looked at her. “Are you sure, hon?”

  Rosie winced. Argh, Mattie. Don’t call this bitch ‘hon’. I think she’ll bite your face off.

  Julie blinked at Mattie. Did she just call her boss ‘hon’? Aloud she said, “Yes. I’m sure.”

  “Well, OK, it’s your party,” Mattie said. She turned to Joe. “You want to go and get Julie’s bags, put ‘em in number four? Then move all the food out of the fridge at the Big House in to the cabin. Remember the flowers and stuff too, OK?”

  Joe nodded and went over to the truck. Rosie went with him to help with the tarp.

  Mattie said, “So… how’s about a nice cup of tea?”

  “I prefer coffee,” Julie said.

  “Well, sure, hon. Coffee we got.”

  Rob opened the door for her, and the three of them went inside. As soon as the door closed behind them, Joe turned to Rosie.

  “Jesus Christ. She’s worse than we thought she’d be. What’s her damn deal?”

  Rosie shrugged. “No idea.”

  “Chip on her shoulder as big as the moon, and a stick up her butt,” Joe said. “We sure she’s Dave’s? Can’t believe any kid of his would be like this, no matter what Margaret told us.”

  “I know! I totally wondered the same thing!”

  Joe sighed. “Well, I’d better get her stuff over the number four.”

  “You need a hand?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Rosie hauled one of the pieces of luggage off the back of the pick-up. “Do you think she’s actually going to stay here, Joe? You think we’ll be stuck with her?”

  Joe nodded at the bags. “Lots of damn stuff, Rosie. I think she’s here for the long-haul.”

  She sighed. That’s exactly what she was afraid of.

  **

  Julie looked around the reception area with approval. It was bright and spacious, and the windows in the waiting area were floor-to-ceiling. Excellent.

  A tiny young woman stood behind the reception counter, practically standing at attention. Mattie waved her over and she scurried across the floor.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am,” she squeaked in a little voice. Her resemblance to a mouse became more pronounced as she extended a tiny paw. “I’m Maria Torres.”

  “Julie Everett.”

  “I’m so happy you’re here, Miss Everett,” Maria said. “I hope your trip up was OK?”

  “Yes, it was fine,” Julie said.

  “Would you like to get a bit of a tour?” M
attie asked. “We could start with the offices, here in the back.”

  Julie nodded and followed Mattie and Rob past the reception desk, down a short hallway. There were seven doors, all open except for the two at the end of the hall.

  “This first room is the conference room,” Rob said. “And just past it, these are the staff offices –most people start at eight o’clock and finish at five. So you just missed them, unfortunately.”

  “What do they all do?”

  “Different things. We have a full-time accountant in-house to do the day-to-day stuff and handle HR matters and payroll. We have one other person in Sales with me, who also works on Marketing. A second person who’s focused on Marketing solely. We outsource all creative and design work, but we’re pretty hands-on with that stuff. Then we have a woman who deals with anything to do with the restaurant – orders and invoices and all the legalities. That’s a pretty full-on job.”

  “What are the two closed doors?”

  “One is the bedroom for the night-staff. The other is your office.”

  “Night-staff?” Julie asked.

  “Yes. We always have a staff member here, in case a guest needs something or there’s some kind of emergency. Our reception staff are all trained in CPR and First Aid.”

  “I see.”

  Rob stopped in front of the door on the right and took a key out of his pocket. He handed it to her. “Here you go.”

  Julie hesitated. This would have been Reid’s office, wouldn’t it? She wasn’t prepared to see it for the first time with other people standing there next to her. She didn’t know what she might find. For all she knew, there would be photos of Reid on a golf course, on vacation, with his wife, all smiling and happy and tanned. The first time she saw that asshole’s face, she needed to be alone.

  She shook her head and put the key in her purse. “Not now.”

  Both Mattie and Rob looked surprised.

  My God, what a cold bitch, Rob thought. Not even interested in seeing her Dad’s space? Where he spent all his time?

 

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