Bad Influencer by Kenzie Reed

Chapter Nine

Elliott

When I emerge from the operations building, it’s pitch black out and stars twinkle overhead. I curse under my breath. I didn’t mean to let the entire day get away from me. I made Jillian a promise, and my word means a lot to me.

I take one of our golf carts so I can get to the suite faster. Unfortunately, the operations center is set up at the opposite end of the park from our suites. I glide impatiently down the pathways, through a mostly empty park. It’s 9 p.m., well past dinner time, and we’ve already run through all our tests for the day and closed up operations, so the families and employees are either congregating in the Olde Timey downtown area, or back in their suites.

When I finally make it back to our suite, I park the cart out front and hurry inside. Jillian is sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea. Her eyes are red and watery. She’s been crying. Because of me. I’m such an asshole; I’m making her job impossible. My stomach twists into a knot.

“I got caught up at work,” I say. “I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” She shrugs unhappily. Her fizzy joy has gone flatter than a day-old soda.

“It’s clearly not.” I shake my head. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

She shrugs and manages a weak smile. “I’m not upset because of you. Well, that’s part of it. I just—”

Her phone, resting on the counter next to her, pings. She glances at it and looks away. I grab it and see it says “Theo.”

“Who’s Theo?” I ask, a little petulantly. “Is that the person your sister-in-law was trying to fix you up with?” And what a stupid name. Who’s named Theo?

Like it’s any of my business. Like I’d have any reason to be upset.

“Theo is my brother.”

Oh, never mind then. Theo’s not that bad a name.

She snatches the phone from my hand, shoves it into her purse. “Anyway, forget Theo. Someone took a picture of you with your arm around my waist and everyone thinks we’re dating, by the way. Ha ha.” She manages a wry smile.

Yeah, ha ha.

I give her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, I can see how that would make you cry.” That actually earns me a small, adorable snort-laugh and a half smile, and I realize I’d donate a non-vital organ just to see her full, beaming grin again. I’d do one of those stupid fire-walk things. I’d eat escargot, the food I hate most in the world.

“Hey. I need to grab something to eat, but after dinner, how about a late-night roller coaster ride? Just you and me?”

“Seriously? Just the two of us?” her eyes widen. Then she frowns, pursing her lips. “I don’t know if I’d be up for it. Despite what you may have heard about me, I don’t love heights.”

What would I have heard about her that has anything to do with heights? I shoot her a puzzled look. “I’ve seen you climb up on table-tops and belt out show tunes from Les Misérables without batting an eyelash.”

“Yeah, yeah. A girl does one little furniture dance, and she’s got a reputation that follows her for the rest of her life.” She takes another sip of tea. “A roller coaster’s a little higher than a table.”

“We’ll go on the Miner’s Falls. It’s only medium on the scary scale. There’s no vertical drop or sharp turns. Think you can handle it?”

She sets her tea down and nods. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”

I message a ride operator, telling him when and where to meet us, along with a ride attendant. Then I order a late dinner delivered to the suite.

“I already ate,” Jillian says, sounding regretful. “I’m sorry you went to so much trouble. We can put it in the fridge, and I’ll eat it tomorrow.”

“No trouble. I appreciate what you’re doing for our park. I wanted to make sure you didn’t go hungry.”

“What’s that?” she asks, nodding her head toward the small container.

“Vegan cheesecake. I thought you might like it.”

Her eyes go wide, and a beautiful smile spreads across her face. “You are a smart man, buttering me up with sweets.”

“Is that all it takes to make you smile?”

“I’m easy to please.” She grins. And that sends my mind careening off in a dangerous direction, imagining what might please her. Nibbling her neck… Kissing my way down her stomach… “Now, hand me the goods.”

I slide the container towards her and watch as she eagerly takes the first bite. She moans with pleasure, and I make a mental note to feed her a lot, I mean a lot, of cheesecake from now on.

“I think that offering your employees free cheesecake is a very important job perk,” she says around a mouthful.

“Noted.”

My eyes roam her face as she’s preoccupied with the dessert in front of her. Gorgeous seems too simple a word to describe Jillian.

I continue my perusal, stopping on her full lips for a little too long. My breath hitches as she wraps those lips around her fork, moaning around another bite. Her eyes meet mine and I cough, looking away quickly.

Subtle, Elliott.I internally berate myself for being so obvious, but Jillian doesn’t seem to have noticed. Thank god. The last thing I need is to make her feel uncomfortable. Our current situation is an HR nightmare already.

An hour and a half later, we hop onto the golf cart and make our way to the Miner’s Falls. The park is completely empty now, lit by the moonlight and the golden glow of replica vintage streetlamps.

Jillian scans the park as we drive, smiling. “An empty park. It’s spooky, but kind of cool,” she says.

“Spooky how?”

“You know… like a deserted theme park. It’s like an old Scooby Doo episode.”

“Would you be Velma or Daphne?” I wonder.

“Velma, obvi. She’s the cool one.” She sticks out her tongue, and I smother my grin behind my fist. This girl is too much. Too funny. Too easy going. Too beautiful, for her own good… and mine.

The ride attendant is waiting for us by the entry to the ride, which sweeps past over man-made rushing rapids and goes through a man-made mountain. The ride tells a little story of ghostly miners guarding their treasure troves.

Jillian pauses at the entryway and tugs on my sleeve. “You’re sure this ride isn’t too crazy.”

“Absolutely. This is the family ride. There are no camelbacks, double down drops, barrel rolls, or twisters, and the dark ride section isn’t too scary.”

“Okay, now you’re just speaking carny geek.” She grins at me. “Fortunately, I have a thing for carny geeks.”

“Oh, really?” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Back-end attractions. Buzz bars. Pretzel loop. Twisted horseshoe roll.”

“I think you’d better stop before I lose all self-control.”. What would that look like? Warmth rushes through me at the thought.

We climb into the front car, which is designed to look like an old wagon, and I make sure she’s fastened in properly before I put on my own safety harness. “Do you want the safety spiel?” the ride attendant asks.

“Nah, I got this.” I smile at him.

The ride starts smoothly. We whoosh down and around the tracks, and she clutches my arm at all the right times, and lets out little shrieks as we tear through the depths of the mountain, where holographic miners pop out at us and wave their pick-axes. We emerge from the interior into a starlit night, and shoot up to the highest hill of the ride.

And then we stop. We’re on the tracks, and we’re not moving.

This is not good at all.

My mind races. Odds are it’s an issue with the track sensors—but there should be no issues. This is a state-of-the-art ride, brand new, and designed by the most acclaimed ride designers in the world. They’ve gone through countless safety checks. Or there could be a localized power outage—but our rides are backed up by generators that ensure the ride continues operating seamlessly. Or maybe a software issue—this ride is monitored by two different computers that are in constant communication with each other, monitoring track sensors, switches, dispatch times.

“Elliott?” Jillian’s voice goes high with alarm. “This is part of the ride, right?”

“Sure is.” I put my hand on her knee reassuringly. “It’s a great feature, isn’t it?” A spark of electricity courses up my arms, but I don’t dare remove my hand from her. I don’t know if I’m still trying to comfort her or myself with this touch.

The ride operator will be aware that we’re stuck. I think. Depending on how bad things are screwed up. Is it a software issue? He’ll figure it out within a couple of minutes… or when we don’t reach the end. This ride is five and a half minutes long. I peer down and try to see the ride attendant, but he’s not visible from where we are.

She gives me a sidelong glance. “Uhh….”

Removing my hand, I reach for my phone. It’s not in my pocket. Must have fallen out at some point. Oh, hell.

“You have your phone with you, right?” I say, in what I hope is a very calm, casual, everything’s-fine voice.

She starts hyperventilating.

“Jillian!” I say sharply. “Look at me.”

“I’m fine.” She sucks in a breath that sounds like a wheeze. “Just… gah.”

I keep my voice calm. “Do you have asthma? Or any other breathing problems?”

She shakes her head. “Anxiety attacks. Sometimes. Sorry. You might get to bear witness to one.”

I take her hand in mine. “Please don’t ever be sorry for that. Don’t apologize for who you are.”

“I… It’s a flaw.”

“No. It’s like being sorry for having diabetes. There’s not one single thing about what makes you, well, you, that you should be apologizing for.”

Her breathing slows a little. ““Thanks. That was actually a very nice thing to say, even if it’s probably not entirely accurate.”

“Why not?” My brows pinch together.

She gestures at herself and smiles wryly. “You know. Me.”

“Not really. You’ll need to explain.”

“Oh, come on, Elliott. I can be… a lot. You didn’t even want me working for your company. It’s pretty obvious I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, including yours.”

I shake my head firmly. “That had nothing to do with you as a person. I was just having a hard time reconciling your personal brand with our company’s.”

She snorts. “Exactly.”

“Not in a bad way. It just seemed very different from our company culture. But it wasn’t meant as an attack on you as a person, Jillian.”

“I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

“You should be,” I say, smiling like an idiot. “You’re like a walking ray of sunshine. You make people happy just by being there.”

She gives me the saddest smile I’ve ever seen—and I interact with clowns on a regular basis. “I guess. As long as they’re not related to me.”

The underlying pain in her voice makes me angry on her behalf. “Family problems?”

“You could say that. We’re very different.”

“Different isn’t bad.”

“It is in my family.” She sighs.

I want to press for more information on her family, but now isn’t the time. I want to make her happy. Just to keep her mind off being stuck up here. Dredging up topics that are obviously a sore spot for her won’t help. But, I feel it necessary to offer one last thought on the current topic.

“If everyone besides your family loves to have you around, that sounds like a ‘them’ problem.”

“Thank you.” She smiles up at me. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

“I’m not kind, Jillian. I’m just honest.”

“That’s not true. Everyone who works for you seems to think the world of you.”

I want to reply to that, but a blast of wind rocks our car, and she gasps, going rigid.

I cup her chin in both hands, framing her face. “Hey. Look at me. You’re okay.”

She stares up at me. “I’m sor— I mean, thank you.”

I grin at her change in words. Maybe I am getting through to her. This woman is a conundrum. Nothing like what I expected, yet every bit what I concocted in my head all those times I visited the bar and watched her from a distance. Despite all common sense, I feel bad for ditching her. I should’ve tried harder to make her life easier. She’s doing good for me… for the company. I owe her an apology greater than a late-night anxiety attack.

“If anyone should be apologizing over and over, it’s me. I got caught up in work, but I shouldn’t have left you hanging all day. I should have let you know what was going on, at least. I’m truly sorry, Jillian.”

“You’re good at calming people down.” She manages a smile. “I forgive—”

Another gust of wind rocks the car, and she lets out a startled squeak. Her eyes are saucer-wide.

“I… I…” she squeaks, and I know I’m losing her again.

Without thinking, I tangle my fingers in the back of her hair with my free hand, lean in, and kiss her.

My world spins as her lips part. She tastes sweet, like strawberries, and my tongue caresses the silken cave of her mouth. She lets out a low moan, and blood rushes to my groin.

This may be the worst idea in the history of Elliott Bradford ideas, but I never want the kiss to end. I’m weightless, flying high on Jillian. I wrap myself around her if only to ground myself, because if I don’t, I think I might drift away.

Then I realize we are flying—well, we’re moving again.

We zoom through the rest of the ride holding hands, and manage to make it to the end without a hitch.

“Are you all right?” I ask Jillian as we come to a halt with a slight jolt.

“Better now.” She smiles shakily. “Sorry I freaked out.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m sorry the ride froze.” I rock back on my heels, feeling awkward. “That kiss… It was…” Amazing? Transcendent? Delicious? It was all of those things, but the words die on my lips.

Her eyes shine. Her mouth curves up in a smile. “Yeah, it was…”

“Oh my God, are you guys all right?” the ride attendant shouts, barreling towards us and breaking the spell between us. Reality comes crashing down on me again. I’m fighting to save our park, and one of our brand new rides just suffered a major malfunction. I need to focus.

“What the hell was that?” I bark at the attendant, even though he wasn’t the one operating the ride. “We got stuck! What if families had been up there, with their kids?”

“I know, man, I’m sorry.” He shakes his head in bewilderment. “I have no idea what happened. You know how many times we’ve tested these rides! Everything’s been running smoothly for weeks, I swear. You’ll have to talk to the ride operator.”

“You’re right. Damn it.”

I groan and shake my head. I’m frustrated about the ride, but also about my kissing Jillian. It was unprofessional and downright dumb considering our track record. And now something has shifted between us, but I don’t have time to think on it.

I look over at Jillian. “I’m so sorry. I know you need your pictures, but this is an emergency. I’ve got to drop everything and do a safety check on every single ride.”

I don’t wait for her to answer. Instead, I take off like I’m on fire, putting as much distance between Jillian Fletcher and myself as I can. Nothing good could come of a quick tryst with an employee, especially her.

Right?