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“Here are five references that will tell you how reliable I am. I can start tomorrow, and all I ask is that you help me find a place to live.” Whew. It’s out and he didn’t interrupt me.
    He lets out a little chuckle. “That’s all? A place to live?” He waves to a chair. “Have a seat.” He pulls up the legs of his slacks and settles into a big leather chair.
    I can tell he’s a little surprised by me. What I can’t tell? Is if it’s a good thing. “Thank you.” I perch myself on the edge of a plain, cushioned chair. “Yes, sir. I know how impossible it is to find a long-term rental, and I’m prepared to pay six months up front.”
    “How picky are you?” He twirls a pen between his fingers.
    Yes! He’s considering it. “Safety is my only requirement.” Smiling, I add, “I know how to clean.”
    He sits back in his chair with his arms resting on a round belly. “Where are you coming from?”
    “Vermont. I just got here today.” I fold my hands in my lap and sit a little taller.
    “Mid-season? What brings you here?”
    “I need a change of scenery, and now seemed like a good time.”
    He chuckles again. “Miss Cassidy, this is your lucky day. See that woman out front? She owns a boarding house. She rents to females only and has strict rules. Curfew, no men, clean room subject to inspection, kitchen-cleaning duties, and most of all, no drinking or smoking. If she smells anything on your breath, you’re on the street.”
    Wow, no wonder she doesn’t have renters in ski country. I suppose I can give up the party-girl persona for a place to live. “That suits me just fine, sir.”
    He pulls open a drawer and leafs through some papers. “I’ll call Janet and send you her way. She is in charge of cleaning all the rentals, and you’re right. She is very short-staffed. Here’s her card. Do you have a cell phone?”
    “I do.” Grabbing a pen out of my purse, I reach over and write the number on the folder I had given him. “Mr. Jones. Thank you. I really appreciate this.” I hold out my hand, and he grasps it in both of his.
    “You’re welcome, Miss Cassidy. You’re a lovely young lady, and I welcome you to Breckenridge. Now go see Mrs. Matheson about that room.”

Chapter 8

    No two ways about it, cleaning rentals sucks. People are just gross. Putting on my rubber gloves, I head to the bathroom. Even cleaning crews have a seniority system, and I’m at the bottom. I’ve never seen so much crap, dried pee, and hair. Why didn’t I think about this part of my great plan? Thank God for the strong smell of bleach.
    I’m teamed with Clara. She’s a local and has two little kids. Her husband is a ski instructor, and I have no idea how they manage to pay their bills. She doesn’t like cleaning either and spends most of the time singing songs to get through it. She has a small radio and seems to know the words to all the tunes. When one of her favorites comes on, she’ll grab a duster and come sing to me. Usually, I’ll join in. I’ve never met a happier person. Days with her almost make this job fun.
    Having finished our last unit for the day, we climb into the ugly yellow and green company car and head back to the office.
    “Casey, what’s your plan for this summer? Are you going to try to stay here, or go back East?”
    I turn down the radio. “I hope to stay here. As much as I love how I look in rubber gloves, I think I want a jump on a better job next year.”
    “And a place that lets you have a social life?” She flips the blinker on to turn right.
    “I’m kind of okay without a social life right now. It’s nice getting enough sleep.” Lately I feel great. I started running and eating well. Taking a break from drinking has been just what the doctor ordered.
    She turns the car right. “Tim told me he saw you skiing the other day and says you’re really good. He thinks you should apply to be an instructor.”
    “That sounds interesting. How do I find out more?” I glance