Chapter 3
The bar, once she found it, was already really busy. Fighting her way through the throng of tourists all dancing to Roxette, Carly reached the bar as it changed to No Limit by 2Unlimited and the place went wild. Laughing she spotted Rochelle perched on a barstool and managed to slide onto the seat next to her.
"Wow! It's bouncing in here!"
Rochelle turned to her and grinned, "and it's only just beginning."
A barman appeared in front of them, looking at her expectantly, "can I get you something?"
Carly glanced at the beer in front of Rochelle and smiled, "a beer please!"
"I'll get that," Rochelle insisted, handing over a note as the drink arrived. Then she turned her seat slightly to look at Carly, "so, did you finally meet you roommate?"
Carly nodded, "you were right." They'd discussed Carly's first contact with Camilla earlier that day. Carly knew that Rochelle had an opinion on the woman, but wasn't keen to share that. She obviously wanted Carly to come to her own conclusions. "She was very sheepish. But I was nice, friendly, and left her feeling a bit..."
"...put in her place?" Rochelle laughed. "Good for you! Now that we're not in work, it's time for me to point everyone out to you...tell you how things are!"
Carly burst into laughter as Rochelle identified various rich clients dancing like idiots, also some other staff members who were Carly's age.
"I can see you're going to be a useful asset Rochelle!" Carly announced after virtually every eligible man under thirty had been identified! "And if I do find someone I fancy I can come to you for the inside information!"
Rochelle laughed, "some sort of matchmaker, I like that!"
As Carly was ordering another drink, Marta arrived, apologetic at being late. Adding another beer to the request, Carly beamed at her, "you've just missed the who's who of Austria courtesy of Rochelle!"
Marta laughed, taking the drink offered, "I had the same introduction three years ago!"
"And look what happened!" Rochelle leaned across Carly to Marta, "You met Bernard within a few months, and any time soon you're going to become Frau Grün!"
Marta blushed, "he has to ask me first Rochelle, we don't all have besotted men like your Franz!"
It was Rochelle's turn to blush, and Carly looked between the two women with humour, "you two loved up ladies! It seems this resort is the home of romance! Who knows what will happen hey?"
They danced and laughed for most of the night, some people joined them fleetingly, but mainly the three of them moved between a few bars and had fun. In the last place they visited, a 'disco bar', they were finally joined by Franz. He ran one of the bars in town, but always finished work at the latest by midnight; otherwise he and Rochelle would never see each other. He was a really lovely man, interested in her home town of Scotland, in exchange for insider information on the best features of the town. He explained that there were two very distinct seasons in this town. Being so high up in the Alps, they had one of the earliest starting ski seasons. But come May and June, the hotels were filled with walkers, climbers, and sometimes even paragliders. So whilst there were always tourists, the summer was generally a lot quieter than the winter. So a lot of staff were seasonally employed.
Carly was in that group, but she knew from talking to Rochelle and Marta that if she performed well there was a chance that she could be taken on on a more permanent basis. That was her ultimate aim.
Carly's alarm was not a welcome sound. She hit the beep beep buzzer to snooze twice before she dragged herself out of bed. She was pulling on her uniform when the door opened and Camilla entered, looking as perfect as ever.
"Heavy night?" she asked with a huge dose of sarcasm.
Carly pasted on a bittersweet smile and looked up at the woman who had become her enemy so needlessly, "not at all."
With that she stood and left the room, desperate for carbohydrates and coffee.
At her favourite corner, she buried herself in a magazine sipping hot coffee and nibbling at toast when a voice cut in to her daydream.
"Mind if I join you?"
Glancing up she met the eyes of Lucas and groaned, "Don’t you have anyone else to annoy or talk down to?"
He chuckled slipping onto the chair opposite, "you've got a great opinion of me I see." He popped a whole strawberry in his mouth and as he continued to laugh the juice escaped his lips and trickled down his chin. In any other setting she would have found it erotic, but the fact the she despised him made it anything but.
"You are your girl friend have both been the only non-friendly people I've met here, so don't try and give me that shit."
She took another slug of her too hot coffee, hating the way he grinned inanely neither accepting or rejecting her comment.
"She’s not my girlfriend!" Was all he offered and Carly didn't know whether him ignoring the reference to the way he'd spoken to her annoyed her more, or his nonchalance and casualness about his relationship with Camilla.
She tried desperately not to splutter on her coffee, instead, reaching for the remainder of her toast and eating it quicker than her delicate stomach was prepared for. Fighting nausea, she nodded at him, "none of my business, and sorry if I appear rude, but I'm working in a minute, I don't want to be late."
He was still laughing as she left him sitting alone.
Things remained frosty between Carly and Camilla for the next few days; fleeting 'hellos' were as far as it went. Saying that there was no hard animosity, and no awkward disturbances of amorous moments. But Camilla was quite the party animal, being out until well after midnight every evening which left Carly having time and space to herself. Whilst Carly loved socialising and partying like any other young woman, with trying to get to grips with a whole new climate, a new job, and living away, Carly was glad to spend some evenings alone, relaxed on her bed, catching up with friends and family with calls and via facebook. She also read more than she had in ages that first few days.
"So first day off tomorrow!" Rochelle gushed on Friday afternoon. "You're so lucky to have your first weekend off!"
Carly chuckled, "every day's like a weekend here! It's 24/7 party holiday!"
Marta laughed, "you're right, but the locals are all on holidays too. The resort is always buzzing. Aren't you even tempted to try skiing yourself?"
They all found it hilarious that she was living in one of the most exclusive ski resorts in Europe and had never as much as tobogganed. They were both full of advice on who she could take lessons from, and both had an opinion as to which was greater ski or board. All Carly knew was she used to fall over her own feet as a child. So she didn't think either sounded particularly attractive.
"If you want me on long term sick with a busted knee or something after just a week, then sure, I'll try!" Carly already knew that the temporary overlap staff were anything but ideal by Rochelle's standards, but part of the deal when the hotel was built was the promise that a certain percentage of staff were locals. These seasonal 'filler inners' were the way they managed it.
"OK, OK!" Rochelle laughed, "I completely change my track. NEVER ski!!"
But what to do on a day off was a very valid question. Friday night was equally as busy as every other night in town, though by around ten o'clock, Carly noticed it was significantly busier than the night earlier in the week had been. Marta was out, but Rochelle had the early shift the next day, so after a glass of wine, she had headed home.
Marta was a demon on the dance floor, swinging her arms around her head to the Europop tunes that Carly hadn't heard for years. When Bernard joined them after his shift at different hotel, Carly greeted him with friendship, but soon after, he and Marta resorted to rather dirty dancing...the Patrick Swayze version rather than anything more sinister, but either way, it was Carly's cue to sit down. Smiling she left them then made for a spare stool at the bar.
The barman she recognised as a friend of Rochelle's and he smiled at her, "beer?"
Carly nodded, "one for the road!" He frowned not understanding the idiom, so Carly shouted "that'll be great!" over the music.
As she was finishing her drink, happy watching people interact and dance, she noticed a kafuffle near the door to the bar. Looking up she recognised the tall dark, what could only be described as a hunk, that she'd seen at her first breakfast. He'd entered the bar with what appeared to several other men, and the whole place it seemed had turned to acknowledge the arrival. Carly spun on her stool to watch the pantomime unfold. Since her first morning she'd not seen this guy again, and she'd almost forgotten about him. But here, she was blatantly reminded of the power and popularity this man seemed to hold.
People literally gushed, and Carly wasn't overly impressed with such ridiculous behaviours, never one to bow down like that, to anyone. But she seemed alone in that sentiment. Women were gushing, vying for a dance, men were fist thumping and patting his back.
Carly had plenty of opportunity to study the man; she was far enough away to be off his radar, even if he didn't have dozens of women throwing themselves at him. His hair was almost black, and thick, pushed back off his head, he had dark eyes that were all-seeing, sat above angled cheekbones and a strong jaw, shadowed with five o'clock shadow. She already knew he was muscular, broad shoulders, firm chest, she could only imagine that he had the thighs and buttocks to match.
Shaking her head, she reigned herself in, not liking the way this daydream was taking her. So she cleared the end of her beer and retrieved her coat. Just as she was about to leave Marta, beckoned her over.
"You're leaving?"
Carly nodded, "I'm sightseeing tomorrow, I need my strength..." She gave Marta a quick goodbye hug, then had a sudden thought, "Marta, one question. Who's that?" She gestured in the direction of the mystery man.
"Tall, dark, good looking?" When Carly nodded she laughed, "Surely Rochelle warned you about him before anyone else?" This time a head shake, "Jens König is the only son of Jurgen König, the owner of this, and at least eight other resorts. He's here as the manager for this season, next year who knows. But he's very influential...and money talks. Avoid, avoid, avoid!"
Carly laughed, "I'm just curious, that's all! I'm not stupid!"
With that she left.
So what does a girl so when she has the day to herself in Austria? You take a bus for forty minutes to see the World's largest ice caves of course! It was wonderful, Carly spent the day taking photos, when she wasn't stunned and in awe of her surroundings. She was halfway to Salzburg, a City she'd heard a lot about, and she knew that the next time she had consecutive two days off; she'd head there for a night.
As she travelled back on the bus, she pulled out a note pad from her bag and started to list the things she wanted to do now that she was here. She constantly checked out the scenery as she travelled postcard views of mountains, rugged passes, and a very winding road. By the time she got back to the hotel, she had a list of nearby cities - well within a ninety minute to two hour trip away, as well as lots of activities. Glancing to the bottom of the list she chuckled at the words "A snow sport", not sure she'd really try any. Hence the bottom of the list!
Saturday night! Carly was trying to think about the evening ahead. Did she wander the bars looking for a familiar face? Or borrow a DVD from the hotel reception and watch it on her laptop? Or hangout in the staff lounge? It wasn't the most homely place, but it beat lying on a single bed.
She was still undecided when she paused before opening the door to her bedroom, a loud voice - Camilla was angry on the phone presumably.
"I don't care what you think Daddy. I'm staying out here. You can't stop my allowance...if you do...well I'll just have to..." Whatever the threat was, it was swallowed up by an exclamation of anger and annoyance. "So you're hanging up on me now Daddy? Are you?"
Carly grimaced, not wanting to alert the other woman to her presence. She waited a few seconds, absorbing the implications of the spoilt brat conversation. When she thought a reasonable time had passed, she opened the door.
Camilla sat on her bed, her chin resting on her bent knees, tears falling down her face.
Carly tried to hide her disgust. Everyone else here lived on the salary they earned, what made her princess roommate so different? The tears seemed like real grief, and she moved from disgust to anger.
Reaching her bed Carly spent some time sorting through a drawer, not sure she could face Camilla and feign sympathy. But the loud and dramatic sob forced her to turn around.
"Are you ok?"
Instead of the crocodile tears she'd expected, she could see that tears ravaged her face and she was devastated. She attempted a nod, and then swiped at the trickles of tears across her cheeks. Camilla couldn't make eye contact, and instead half smiled before leaving the room.
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