“Now that you mention it, your face does look rather puffy,” he said, sounding concerned.
“I got some meds from the drug store earlier,” I said, trying to shrug it off. “I’ll just keep my distance from Rocky from now.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard,” he said wryly, looking over to where Zoë was sitting with both cats on her lap.
We laughed and I went off, my heart beating fast. I had added the bit about me being allergic to cats as an afterthought. As if getting the job wasn’t enough and I needed another reason to leave. I wasn’t really allergic to the cats though; it was my sensitivity to down and feathers that got me. Sniffing the pillows and going through the bedding that morning while I was looking for the kittens had caused that to flare up.
But for some reason, I thought I needed an extra excuse. I didn’t even know why. But when I emailed Chuck later, I wondered if I had agreed perhaps a little too quickly to stay on for Zoë’s operation. It was like I didn’t want to go.
But surely it couldn’t be my feelings for Will that were keeping me here?
I looked again at Chuck’s message and read about how he’d told management they could not cut down that much on staff in the summer season and that they needed more capable and presentable staff members. To this he added, “I remember you being particularly good in that department.”
Was he flirting with me here?
I looked up presentable on Google and saw it meant clean and tidy, good enough to be seen in public. That sounded to me like a politically correct way of saying I looked good.
Nothing had happened with him the year before.
Chuck Keenan was a bit older than me, and as manager of the resort, he had a lot of responsibility, which included the mountain retreats, the spa, the stables, and the conference rooms. In high season, the retreat was busy and there was not a lot of time for socializing. The staff were always dealing with one crisis after another, but I had liked the fast pace and he had told me afterwards that my quick way of dealing with incidents had impressed him. Sometimes, when we came off shift, the staff gathered in the small room at the back of our dressing area, a kind of communal staff room. There was a fridge and some of the guys kept beers there and we often hung out there for an hour or two to catch up with the others. Staff members were not permitted to hang out in the main tourist areas or at the bar that had been set up for guests.
We liked our own little bar area though, and had made it comfy with some pillows and party lights. I hadn’t exactly made friends there, but I was on good terms with all of the staff members. Sometimes, Chuck would look in on us and even though he wasn’t strict, the atmosphere always changed when he was around. He must have noticed it and kept to his office mostly.
But one evening, after I’d worked the evening shift and came off rather later, I found him in the staff room, drinking beer and watching a ball game on the TV that was mounted there.
“Ah, Nikki,” he said smiling that big, white grin of his. “Join me for a beer!”
I had a feeling he’d had a few already but I didn’t want to seem rude.
“How are you finding it here?” he asked me as I sat down with a bottle.
“I like it. A lot. I said.
He leaned forward and touched my forearm.
“Well, I like you, a lot,” he said and winked at me. But then he sat back again in his chair and looked up at the TV.
What was that? I’d wondered. I wasn’t sure if he’d made a pass at me or not.
“You don’t miss the city? Gets mighty quiet here at night,” he said, sounding rather wistful.
“On Tropicana Tuesdays?” I said in a joking voice. “You must be kidding.”
He took off his hat and I got a better look at his face. He was so good-looking, handsome in a movie star way. Like a younger Robert Redford. Much younger. But he was not that young.
“I should take you out to see the stars sometime,” he said, his voice fading away. He was looking in the direction of the television, but I had a feeling he was looking past it, at something else.
“That would be lovel..”
He got up abruptly, before I could finish the sentence, draining his bottle and slamming it down on the table. “Time for bed,” he said a bit gruffly before leaving.
It had been an odd encounter.
The next day I heard from a co-worker that Chuck had been the manager at the resort for five years but that he wasn’t married, and gossip was rife about his love life, if he was gay or not, and why he was never seen with anyone else. I thought of the way he’d touched my arm and felt quite sure he wasn’t gay, but I didn’t want to say anything.
For the rest of my time there, we were not alone again, but I’d often catch him looking at me, watching me. I liked it.
When I left, he told me to apply for a job and it was the first place I thought of when I had to apply for a position after college.