A/N: Hello readers. Thank you for all the faves/follows/reviews on the first chapter :) I hope you enjoy the story :)
Damon wiped his hand against the towel, staining the once white material with a trail of grime. He put his tools down on the bench. Geez he was tired, he'd been at work since the crack of dawn. Once again, he had awoken from his slumber drenched in sweat, soaking the sheets around him. He shook off the nightmare, but his tossing and turning proved fruitful; keeping him wide awake. Throwing his bedding aside, he headed to the shower; the water felt refreshing, like a tonic washing away his sins.
The past four hours he'd been working like a man on a mission, repairing thirty of the one hundred jobs on their books. That was only yesterday's takings, and if the past was any indicator, Damon knew he was going to be stuck doing ten hour shifts for the foreseeable future. He sorted out the quickest repairs, the done in less than twenty minute's variety; waxing the skis and snowboards, and sharpening those blunt edges.
Every year people flocked through their doors, with damaged goods. The one's that had been sitting idle for the past twelve months, or maybe longer. He overheard several customers requesting an urgent repair, not giving a flying fuck that they might already have jobs stacked up to their eyeballs. Alaric ever the diplomat, hated the thought of them walking out to one of his competitors, said we'd try. Damon was pissed about that. Alaric knew he might be pushing it, but if he was willing to give him a hand, then they'd be in business.
It was half past ten, he glared at the waiting pile to his left. Christ, and he expects that to be done in an hour? No freaking chance. Damon pulled out a pair of orange and purple skis. His eyes scanned over the repair note; badly damaged. "No shit," he muttered, tossing the piece of paper to one side. He took a good look, the tips of the skis were bent out of shape. After running his hand along the sides, the edges were as blunt as a used razor blade. A beginner he'd say, who found it difficult to avoid something. Like a rubble of rocks or a collision on the slopes with some unlucky person, who happened to be in the vicinity. He pulled out the mullet, banging the orange monstrosities into oblivion.
He was still working away at 1.00pm when Alaric flung the door open. "Sorry buddy, I got another one. I need the Atten's repair. Done yet?"
Damon screwed a bolt into a snowboard. When he finished, he released the vise hold, dumping the board on the completed pile. He pointed towards the overflowing shelves. "Do you see much progress there?"
Ric shook his head. "I know, I know. The first day's a bitch, like every year." He stepped into Damon's hell hole, rummaging through the piles. "Weren't you in early this morning?"
He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Better to be doing something useful with my time, or maybe not."
Ric walked towards the door. "Your running on empty Salvatore. Why don't get out of here for awhile? I'll give you a hand when you return."
"You're right, every year it's the same crap." Damon started rifling through his locker for his wallet and jacket. "So, since shitful day is in full force again; I believe it's your turn?"
His boss lounged against the doorframe. "You kidding me? I got it covered."
Damon smirked. "Bourbon and ice. I feel better already."
Ric laughed. "Here's to our shitfaced night."
Damon gave him a pat on the back on his way out. Ric maybe his boss, but he'd found him to be a bloody good friend too. He didn't pry too much into his private life and never really questioned his past. He had wondered if Ric had heard the rumours, from the town's notorious gossipers. If so, he never let on that he did. He knew Alaric would defend him regardless.
When Damon first arrived in Aspen, he had come unprepared; with no job prospects and no-where to live. By chance, one cold evening; he was desperate to get away from the dingy lodge he was staying in, packed full of disorderly winter enthusiasts. He'd pulled on his black Columbian winter jacket, and braving the adverse weather conditions, wandered down the main street. Most people were smart enough not to venture out, staying tucked away indoors with a warm fire burning. Surprised to see someone as stupid as he outside, Damon noticed a man trying to keep a sign on his shop window from flapping around in the wind. Damon read the store name, Repairs You Need. Damon snuck a glance over the guy's shoulder, Ski repairer required. Enquire within.
Without another thought, he told him, "The job's filled, how about we take this down?" Damon reached for the sign, pulling it off the window.
Alaric, impressed with his audacity, asked him to come inside. He placed a banged up snowboard in front of him. "Show me what you can do with that, and you have yourself a job."
An hour later, Ric had offered him the position, and sealed the deal with a couple of beers. He'd given him a brief rundown of the business, he owned it for the past four years. He had an office lady, Jo, who came in once a month to do things like accounts and other things involving numbers. He followed her lead whenever she was in, letting her get on with it. She had dabbling's in real estate. Jo had given him a heads up about the cabin in the woods, although she did warn about the long vacancy. Damon had hardly spoken with her, but he wasn't blind. The woman was hot for Ric, and it seemed his friend was totally oblivious.
Damon zipped his jacket, it was bloody freezing outside. That didn't stop people, the afternoon was busy, with the street hustling with activity. Just what I needed, he muttered. He pulled his cap down lower. Damon headed straight for the Aspen bakehouse. He sighed in relief when he saw there was no line. The woman behind the counter asked, "What would you like?"
"One chicken pot pie." He passed her some crumpled notes. He ate his pastry on the way back to the shop. He stopped midstep when he spotted a white van parked outside Warmer's Cafe. Fuck. Damon looked up and down the street, before slipping inside the main door of his workplace.
Elena observed the mountain, full of powdery snow. Hundreds of eager skiers were out and about, zigzagging down the slopes. She pulled her goggles over her eyes. Tapping her skis down together, gave her a bit of momentum as she headed towards the colored ropes of the ski school. She caught a glimpse of Caroline, with the young ones today. All bound full of energy and roaring to go. Bonnie was with the beginners, wobbling around like they were walking a tightrope. Elena smiled, it was good to be back. She slid into her area, with six pairs of eyes on her. She stuck the poles into the snow. "Hi guys. I'm Elena, I'll be your instructor for today."
Observing the group, she noticed two guys nudging each other playfully, looking back at her. The short one with spikey hair asked, "So you want to grab a drink or something afterwards?"
She could feel the lips on her mouth turn downwards. Elena should be used to this behaviour by now, it happened frequently over the years; guys hitting on her. It didn't matter if they were youngish like these two or slightly older men, the one's who tried to embark on a holiday fling with her; with their wives blissfully unaware. Like the guy from last year, he was in her intermediate group. A real charmer, who wouldn't take no for an answer, but she'd shut him down in spades. What was his darn name she thought, that's right, Liam somebody. He came to Aspen every season. She hoped he was done with the lessons, and focused on a holiday with his wife for a change.
"Well ah.. Thanks for the offer, but no." She studied the other four in the group, ready and itching to go. "Right come on, follow me to the chair lifts." Her class dutifully followed her lead, skiing up to them packed with patrons. Elena told the group, "We are heading up on the ones on the left. Two at a time please."
Once her students were atop the mountain, she voiced loudly, "We are going down the blue trail. Is there anyone who isn't comfortable with that?" She was met with silence. Excellent she thought. "Good. This trail has a few steep drops, so be prepared for that ok? I want you to come down singularly and follow me until I stop."
She took off down the slopes, down the straight and around the first tight bends. She slid to a halting stop, checking on her students, not far behind. She waited until they caught up. "How we all doing?"
Their beaming smiles told her, they were doing fine. The guy who'd asked her out, said, "Can we step it up a notch? I've been waiting to hit the slopes for a long time."
"Well from what I've seen, all of you are more than capable. Let's go." She turned back in front, eying the slope, the steep drop off wasn't far away. This was going to be fun. She pulled the poles under her arms and descended the mountain. She flew past some others; hanging around debating whether to go for it, or turn around and take an easier route. Elena felt a rush of adrenaline as she picked up more speed, landing over the dip with precision. A quick glance over her shoulder, told her the rest of her students were ok. The rest of the session was non eventual, with everyone making it down to the base of the mountain.
After finishing her fourth class for the day, Elena had success with all of them; no broken bones, no stacks and none running over time. She headed into the ski school cafeteria for her break, and found to be packed to the brim. Her eyes scanned the tables for familiar faces. A blonde male seated with two others waved her over, Matt. After grabbing a steaming hot soup and crusty roll, Elena walked towards him. She hadn't seen him since they'd broken up a year ago. He'd sent her a few messages during that time, hard to cut off all contact when they had a chance to remain friends.
He scooted his chair along to make room for her. "Hey Elena, how's your day been?"
She squeezed into the seat between him and the wall. "Not bad, it's good to be back. And you?"
The spark in his blue eyes faded slightly, and now she regretted her words. He was pretty much in love with her, only a year ago and she'd tossed him aside with a click of the finger. "The snow was perfect. Can't say too much about my class though, beginners."
Elena nodded in agreement. "So how many tumbles are we talking here?"
Matt smiled. "Six and counting, I have another two classes this afternoon."
She heard her name screeched from across the room, "Elena. I'll be there in a sec." Caroline, on her way through the caferteria with a tray of greasy food.
Matt said to her, "I've gotta go. Good to see you again." He got up, greeting Caroline on his way out.
Caroline slumped down into his vacated seat. "So Matty D. What did he want?"
Elena dipped her bread into the bowl. "Saying hello. Nothing else."
Her friend queried her, "Saying hello my arse. He wants you back Elena." She shoved a hot chip in her mouth, crunching down on it.
"Don't start with that again. He knows its over." She stared at her friend, wondering how she pulls it off. "So anyway, how are you feeling?"
She drank some of her water bottle. "Much better. Must be the clean alpine air."
Elena rolled her eyes. "I saw you with the littlies, any future champions on the horizon?"
"God no. Most of the time, I had over protective parents watching on, stumping their progress." She ate a few more chips, laced with salt. Caroline looked around. "Where's Bonnie?"
"She had a beginners group, maybe she ran into some trouble with them?"
Bonnie sailed through the doors, her face flustered. Elena immediately knew something was wrong, her friend was usually a picture of serenity. She slid into the chair beside them, pulling her jacket off.
Elena asked, "Bonnie, what's wrong?"
Bonnie sighed in frustration. "I've just spent the last half hour dragging my broken skis around, to nobody who wants to fix them. Haven't you guys heard yet?"
Caroline said, "Heard what?"
"The ski repair at the school, is now out of action. A fire or something broke out, rendering it near useless for the next couple of weeks."
All three exchanged worried glances. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Caroline asked.
Elena shrugged in despair. When it dawned on her, Alaric's store. "Leave it with me. I don't have a class for another hour."
Bonnie looked hopeful. "Please. You know that pair is my favorite right?"
She nodded. Of course. Bonnie had those skis for years, and had grown fond of them. She'd never had an accident, they were something like a lucky charm for her.
Caroline said, "So you need to borrow something from the school? We better go and have a look then."
The girls headed outside. Bonnie reached into the ski holding rack, pulling out her black and red ones. She looked at Elena. "Are you sure?"
She took the skis from Bonnie, hoisting them over her shoulder. "Yes. I'll see you later."
Elena asked one of the schools receptionist's if they knew where Alaric Saltzman's repair store was; that was information she didn't get from him. The woman told her, after a quick flick through the yellow pages, where to find him.
She walked for ten minutes, catching her breath and cursed herself for volunteering. Repairs You Need was just a few yards away, she could see the sign. Elena pulled Bonnie's skis off her shoulder, leaning them up against the window. A sigh escaped from her lips, when they slid right off, landing on the path. She bent down to collect them, realizing someone was watching her.
"Elena? Is that you? You ok there with those things?"
She grimaced, standing upright. She saw Alaric's eyes flicker over the instructor's name badge on her jacket. "Hello again. I actually was on my way to see you."
"I had no idea you were an instructor. Bad day on the slopes huh?"
"Not mine. My friend's."
He carried out a quick inspection on them. "I'm on my way somewhere, but take them right in. Someone can help you out."
"Really? That's great." She adjusted the skis slightly. "I'll head in there now. Thank you."
Alaric waved her off. "No problem, anytime Elena. See you."
She headed towards his store, pushing the door open. The smell of wax and grease hit her. She could hear a drill or something in the background, behind a closed door. Elena looked around, no-one was at the front counter. She saw a silver service bell in the corner, she pressed down on it. When nothing happened for a minute, she pressed it again. Then she quickly retreated back over by the door.
Elena heard the door slam open. A man's voice said, "Once is more than enough. What do you want?"
She whipped around, this guy had no customer service. Who spoke to their customers like that? Did Alaric know? Or was he a fill in? She mumbled out, "Alaric. He.. Um.. He told me I could bring these in." She placed Bonnie's skis on the counter.
The guy moved slowly, like he had all day. He pointed at the book on the counter. "Fill that in and take your ticket number."
Elena scribbled her details down. "How long will it take?" She asked.
He stepped forward, ripping the pink sheets of paper from the top. He handed her a copy. "Three hours."
She gaped. "But I need them sooner."
He smiled but it never reached his eyes. "Of course you do. Three hours or you can take them elsewhere."
For a moment she forgot why she was here. Why hadn't she noticed his finely chiseled cheekbones, black hair and his bluest eyes like a tropical ocean? Then she remembered what a rude jerk he was, squashing any further interest. "Fine. Three hours whatever."
He removed Bonnie's skis from the counter. Elena noticed the name sewn into his work shirt, Damon. Why did that sound familiar? Something knawed away at her, one of Caroline's ramblings. There's a guy who lives in the woods. Damon. There's rumours abound, don't cross his path.
She turned on her heels rushing out of the shop without another word.
