These Boots Weren't Made for Walking (25 page)

“You go, Black Bear!”

A peppy Gloria Estefan song begins to play over the sound system, and I start doing a pretty uncoordinated but spirited bear dance to “Get on Your Feet.” This naturally draws a little crowd, and soon I've got a bunch of kids dancing with me. I can't believe we pay Brandon to do this. This isn't work; this is a blast!

Time seems to fly, and before I know it, my shift as Black Bear is just about over. Unfortunately the obnoxious preteen boys are
still giving me a bad time, so I decide to escape them with one last ride up the bunny hill. As I'm going up, I hear my cell phone ringing, so I fumble around until I find it and then answer.

“Cassie?” Says a male voice.

“Yes?”

“This is Will.”

Okay, now it's time to get off the lift, and yet I don t want to hang up. “Will,” I say quickly, “hold on a sec, okay?” Then I manage to get off the chair with both poles and my cell phone all intact.

“Hey, Will,” I say as I ski off to one side, “hows it going?”

“Really good.”

“Cool.” I wave at the little girls who are curiously watching Black Bear chatting on his cell phone. Why not?

“I got your Christmas card.”

“You did?” Okay, not the smartest response, but what do you expect from a girl in a bear suit?

“I really appreciated—”

But his words are cut off, because in that same instant, I feel a big push from behind, and suddenly I'm barreling down the slope with both poles in one hand and my cell phone in the other, trying not to run down the beginner skiers who are weaving back and forth in front of me. Not wanting to lose my cell phone or wipe out the cute little preschooler in the pink ski outfit directly ahead, I first ski on one leg and then the other. I can hear people cheering for my brilliant stunt work. A little boy in bright orange takes a sharp turn, then falls down right in front of me, and it's all I can
do not to plow straight through him. That's when I start to lose it. I feel myself careening too sharply to the left, and I know I won t be able to regain my balance this time.

I tumble first sideways, then in a somersault, and finally I land in a heap of fur and snow and am applauded by a happy crowd of onlookers who obviously think I did all this on purpose. Despite the throbbing pain in my left knee, I stand up and take a few bows, and the audience claps even louder. I'm thinking someone should pop in the “Get on Your Feet” song again. Although I doubt I can dance with this aching knee.

“Way to go, Black Bear,” yells one of the obnoxious boys in a mean tone as his friend pumps his fist in the air. Guilty as presumed.

I growl at them, holding my paws high like I plan to catch and devour them whole, which might not be a bad idea. Then I realize I still have my cell phone in hand, but it looks like I've lost the connection. So I pocket it. Waving to my adoring fans, I start to make my exit, trying not to limp as I go. But then something makes me stop.

There amid the happy onlookers is a familiar face. To my total surprise, I realize it belongs to none other than Will Sorensen. He's not dressed for skling but looks pretty cool in his jeans and faded denim jacket with a tweedy scarf wrapped around his neck.

“Will!” I say, sounding slighdy hoarse. I think that bear voice has worn out my vocal cords.

“Huh?” he stares at me with a seriously puzzled expression,
which reminds me that I'm still in bear drag, and of course this makes me feel totally embarrassed. Why did I say anything? I couldVe dashed inside and changed. But instead I stupidly revealed my identity. I am so pathetic.

“Cassie?” he says in a lowered voice.

“Name's Black Bear,” I growl at him for the sake of my fans. “You'll find Cassie in the building.” Then I wave him toward the lodge. “Come on, I'll show you the way.”

“Sure,” he says, still looking puzzled.

“Mind if I take your arm?” I growl. “Twisted my knee coming down that hill.”

“No problem,” he says as he offers me his elbow.

I might look like a tough old bear on the outside, but I feel just a smidgen of a meltdown on the inside.

“You come up here to ski?” I growl at him as we go inside the lodge.

“Maybe…but mosdy I came to see my friend Cassie.” He turns and gives me another curious look.

“Her office is up those stairs,” I say, wondering if my knee is going to handle it. “But let's take the elevator.”

So, using Will as my crutch, I limp toward the elevator, and as soon as the doors close, I confess. “It's me in here, Will.”

Of course, this cracks him up. He's still laughing as he escorts me to my office. But before we're all the way in, I hear Ross calling my name.

“Cassie?” he says, coming up behind me. “You okay?”

“She fell down,” explains Will. “She might've hurt her knee.”

So they both help me into my office and get me seated on one of the leather club chairs across from my desk. Then I remove the bear head and let out a loud groan as I rub my knee.

Will laughs again. “I can't believe that was you, Cassie. Is that your job here? You play the bear?”

Ross chuckles. “She was just filling in for the regular bear.”

“Oh.”

“I'm sorry,” says Ross. “Let me introduce myself.” So introductions are made, and I tell Ross what a great chef Will is and that he works at Terrazzo de Giordano.

“That's a great restaurant,” says Ross. “I've eaten there a couple of times.”

“Will took over my apartment when I moved to Black Bear,” I continue, as if this all needs explaining, which I realize it doesn't, but I keep going anyway. “I haven't seen him since October.”

“Now what about that knee?” asks Ross. “Do you think it's serious?”

“I think it seriously hurts,” I say.

“How about if you get out of that costume?” says Ross. “I'll get Marge to send one of the medics up with some ice.”

“Let me help you,” offers Will as Ross leaves my office. He gently helps me unzip and peel myself out of the smelly bear skin, until it hangs around my ankles like a dead thing.

“Whew,” I say as I sit back down and fan myself with my hands. “That's an improvement.”

“How about those ski boots?” asks Will as he stoops down and releases the tension.

“Thanks,” I tell him.

He gently eases them off, then removes the deflated bear, laying it across my desk almost reverently. And I lean back and let out a sigh of relief. “I feel better already.”

Ross quickly returns with the medic in tow, and after a quick examination, which reveals the embarrassing fact that my legs need a shave, he tells me I might ve pulled some ligaments. “But nothing appears to be broken,” he says as he snugly wraps my knee in an elastic brace. “You'll still want to make an appointment with your doctor and get an x-ray. In the meantime, stay off of it, and keep it wrapped and on ice.” He hands me a sample package of Advil. “And this might help too.”

Ross hands me the water bottle from my desk. “So you're going to be okay, Black Bear?”

“I think so, but I guess I'll have to retire now”

“Well, Marge said Brandon called this afternoon, and he's feeling better. He thinks it was just a twenty-four-hour bug. He should be back tomorrow.”

“Good.”

“You take care now, Cassie,” says the medic as he picks up his case and heads for the door.

I thank him. Then he and Ross both leave, so that it's just Will and me in here. I feel awkward and self-conscious.

“So…,” I say as I unzip my L. L. Bean polar fleece jacket to let some cool air in, “what brings you to Black Bear?”

Now Will looks uncomfortable, and I feel bad for putting him on the spot like this. “I mean, it's great to see you and everything,” I say quickly. “I'm just so surprised.”

“Well, as I mentioned on the phone, uh, before we were disconnected.” He chuckles as if he's recalling the whole unfortunate scene of the tumbling, bumbling bear tearing it up on the bunny hill. “I got your Christmas card, and I thought, hey, I've got a couple of days off, why don't I head on up here to see you.” He grins. “So I did.”

“Cool.”

“I almost called you a few weeks ago,” he says. “Mr. Snyder said you'd been by. But I figured you were just checking to make sure I hadn't made a mess of your place.”

“Oh no,” I say, “that wasn't it at all. I happened to be in town for some meetings and thought I'd pop in and say hi. How's the job?”

“It's been good. And they really seem to like me. But I'm starting to dream bigger now. I think I might start a place of my own… someday.”

“Good for you.”

“And you like your job? You finally found what you wanted to be when you grew up?”

“Sort of. I mean it's a fantastic job. And I love almost everything about it…”

“But not everything?” He studies me closely. I'm not sure.

He laughs. “Look at us. We've come such a long way in such a short time. And yet we're still not totally happy with it.”

“We're just a couple of whiners, aren't we?” I tease.

“Guess we should just grow up and count our blessings.”

I glance at my watch now. “Looks like my workday is finished.”

“Do you have any plans for dinner?”

“Not really.” If Will wasn't here, I wouldn't be surprised if Ross asked me to get a bite. I glance toward Ross's office and see that his lights are off. I doubt he's gone home this early, but he's definitely checked out of his office.

“Want to join me?”

I smile at Will. “I'd love to.”

“I borrowed a car to come up here. I've thought about getting one, but it's so easy to ride my bike to work, and parking is such a pain in the city.”

“I've got my car up here too,” I say. “It's just an old beater, but it gets me back and forth okay.”

“Do you think you can drive with that knee?”

I rub my left knee. “Yeah. It's the right leg that I need.”

“Want me to help you down to your car?”

“That's a good idea.” Then I point to the closet. “I've got some Uggs in there. Would you mind getting them?” I realize he might
see anything in that closet, since that's where I keep spare clothes and other possibly embarrassing necessities. But under the circumstances, I don't even care.

I slip on the Uggs, remove the ice pack, and carefully stand. Testing my weight on my knee, I'm surprised that it's not too bad. “I think I'll be okay. But there's also a black Kate Spade bag in that closet. Do you mind getting it for me?”

He looks in the closet, finally holding up the bag. “This it?”

“Yep. Thanks.” I attempt to hobble toward my desk.

“Remember the medic said to stay off it,” he reminds me as he loops the strap of my bag over his shoulder, then puts his other arm around my waist. “You can lean on me.”

“Nice look with the bag,” I point out. “You're a real metro-sexual male.”

He laughs. “I hope that's a compliment.” Then he helps me pack my laptop, and we're ready to get out of here. I feel like a clumsy participant in a three-legged race as we slowly make our way out to the elevator, then awkwardly proceed to the parking lot.

“I'm glad it's not icy today,” I say as we head for my car. Will helps me in and puts my briefcase and other things in the back.

“Where shall we meet?”

I look down at my ski clothes. “I could go home and change,” I say, suddenly feeling tired and hungry. “Or we could just go to the brewery—you know, keep it casual.”

“I vote for the brewery.”

I grin. “Me too.”

So I give him brief directions. Black Bear isn't exactly a metropolis. Then I take off, driving carefully but quickly down the mountain. I hope I can get to the brewery just a few minutes ahead of him. This might give me time to do some damage control. I realize I probably look a fright after wearing that sweaty bear costume all day. And I'm sure I don't smell too great either. I just hope I remembered to put my Burberry Brit back in my bag.

'm somewhat back to a presentable normal by the time Will arrives at the brewery—hair in place, mascara smudges removed, and fresh lip gloss applied. Fortunately, my perfume was in my bag, and I smell a bit better. I come out of the bathroom, still limping, and nearly run smack into Will.

“Good timing,” he says as he hooks his hand beneath my arm. “Let me help you.”