the water work its magic on my muscles, the headache fading by the minute, I was ready to start the day. I threw on some jeans and a blouse, pairing the outfit with some sneakers. Once that was done, I packed my MacBook and headed out.
It was a beautiful morning. I’d had doubts about whether or not packing my life up and heading forty minutes away to White Pines was the right call. But all it took to make me certain was a walk outside.
The air was cool and crisp – just chilly enough to feel fresh, but not enough to be uncomfortable. The sky was a clear blue, the mountains rising off in the distance. Everything about White Pines was picturesque Colorado beauty.
It was mid-winter, a few weeks before Christmas, about when I’d be well into my routine for substitute teaching. But I didn’t have that to worry about anymore. I was ready to get some coffee in me, to sit down and pound the digital pavement until I found a job.
I headed down the main drag of town. The citizens of White Pines were dressed in their usual wear of flannel tops and thick coats with rugged jeans. Every now and then I’d spot an obvious tourist from Denver wearing more trendy clothes, in town for the same reason I was – to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.
Up on the mountains, I spotted the little cluster of wood buildings that comprised the ski lodges, pairs of black lines from the sky carts coming down the mountain. I sucked in a deep breath, happy to soak up the atmosphere.
Apres Ski Roasters, my local coffee shop of choice, was on the corner a few blocks from my apartment building. White Pines had a nice little collection of coffee shops, café culture being a big part of the town. Moments later I was inside, the mellow ambience wrapping around me and inviting me in. Upbeat jazz played on the stereo, baristas zipped around behind the counter preparing drinks, and the tables were packed with people drinking their coffee while chatting, reading the paper, or getting some work done.
A small cluster of people was in front of the counter, but April, one of the baristas, waved to me as soon as I entered, setting a drink down on the counter.
“One skinny latte,” she said with a smile.
“Oh my God,” I said. “You’re a lifesaver, April.”
She winked. “How’s the job hunt going?”
“We’re about to find out,” I said, patting the bag I carried my laptop in. “One of the drawbacks of a small town like this – pickings can be slim.”
“True,” she sympathized. “But the pros outweigh the cons, in my opinion.” Her gaze drifted over my shoulder to the mountain vista behind us.
“Big agree on that.”
She flashed me one more smile before heading back to the grind, and I placed some bills with tip onto the counter before hurrying to my preferred spot in the corner. Once there, I set up my laptop and got to it.
I hadn’t been kidding when I’d said the pickings were slim. White Pines was a town with a population the size of one Denver neighborhood, which meant job openings weren’t exactly easy to come by. But I was still determined. I had a college degree and a few years of good experience. That had to count for something.
I didn’t get far into the job hunt, only typing in the classifieds into Google, before someone grabbed my attention.
“Skinny latte, huh?”
“What?” I was more surprised than anything, not even looking up from my computer.
“Interesting choice.”
Confused, I glanced up and saw a man a little older than me, dressed in a slick suit, a very pleased with himself smirk on his face. He was handsome-ish but dripping with arrogance that was obvious even from a quick look.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “The latte?”
“Yeah, the latte. I overheard you got it skinny. Kinda stupid when you’ve got a body like yours. Doubt you need to lose a pound.”
His comment was so jaw-dropping that I didn’t even know what to say.
“I like my women curvy like you,” he said. “Skinny chicks are overrated.”
“Um…what?”
Despite how clearly stunned I was at his comments, the man took this as his cue to drop into the seat across from me. The laptop was open in front of us and I left it there, as though it were a barrier keeping him from me.
“You know,” he said. “More junk