Cisco was only one, in a cast of over a hundred people with whom she’d interface over the summer, and she needed to think about all of them.
Her expression soured as she thought about the most annoying person on that list.
Debbie Gorner.
The woman—a complete unknown on Hilly’s plate this year—had already bugged the hell out of her. It would take all Hilly’s strength not to have words with the woman before the first week of camp was even finished.
As promised, after several false starts, the brash blonde had finally waltzed in late Sunday like she owned the place, waving Hilly off and going straight to her cabin where she’d stayed for the rest of the night.
All day today, while giving various excuses, Nurse Gorner turned up her nose at the camper’s meet-and-greet, the getting-to-know-you exercises, and even the two delicious meals Ellen Sothard had cooked and served up. Unbelievably, the nurse had stuck close to her cabin, eschewing all but the most necessary of interactions, letting Hilly know that she preferred eating her own food, which she would procure and provide for herself.
Not exactly the team player Hilly wanted at camp. But she supposed she couldn’t bitch too much. After all, she’d been in a bind, and the woman had stepped in on short notice to help her out.
Besides, Buffy and Ellen had Hilly’s back as two extremely sane adults on premise. Then there was…
Nope. Hilly twisted on her coverlet. She would not let her mind travel to Cisco again.
Instead, she refocused on camp issues, and in her head, ran through her staff counselors, one by one.
She had no uncertainties at all regarding the skills of those five teenagers who were returning to camp. Lisha, Fran, Jadan, Mateo, and Lance had all dropped seamlessly back into their roles as mentors and cheerleaders, making their new charges feel comfortable.
Midge, Bailey, and Maya, the new girls, looked to be picking things up quickly, with only Bailey holding herself somewhat aloof.
No. Aloof wasn’t the correct adjective for the teen. She was more like…self-assured; perhaps even cocky. And Hilly hadn’t missed the way she’d looked at a few of the boys she was working with like they were succulent fruit, ripe for picking.
Hilly would have to keep an eye on that one.
Carter, one of her two male newbies, also had her shaking her head. He was full of vivacity and enthusiasm—bouncing around the place with a frenetic kind of energy while engaging his ten campers. The only problem Hilly could find with him besides his exhausting, unstoppable zeal, was that he’d latched onto Lance with a puppy-dog-like fascination.
That adoration didn’t seem to bother her senior counselor—at least not yet—so until Lance found it a problem and came to her with misgivings, Hilly would let him deal with it in his own way.
Vishon, her other first-timer, was a quiet, thoughtful kid who seemed to take his duties quite seriously. But luckily, despite his low-key demeanor, his campers had gravitated toward him, immediately. Which might be because Vishon had let them know he fully understood what they felt like, having been bullied, himself, as a youngster. Hilly had given him permission to reveal his personal story, knowing it would help everyone involved.
Hilly normally didn’t hire counselors strictly on the basis of them being bullied or not—only two others in her employ had similar backgrounds—but during his interview, Vishon had impressed her with his sincerity, and even gave over a few new ideas he had for confidence-building.
She really liked the kid a lot, and could see him growing exponentially as he became more and more comfortable.
Hilly had given Buffy all the counselors’ profiles, and if any of them had need of a therapist, she’d know where to start with them. The care Buffy would take with all her employees and campers gave Hilly a huge shot of reassurance.
Then there was Ellen Sothard.
Damn, had Hilly lucked out there.
Not only was her mother’s good friend a fantastic cook, she was well-organized, cheerful, and she’d—without actually saying it out loud—pretty much agreed to keep Hilly’s secret. Which was good. At least Hilly’s anonymity could continue for a little while until she decided what to do.
The only real sour point in the day—other than the taciturn nurse—had been another afternoon visit by Langford Cottins.
The brashness of the asshole developer never failed to astound Hilly. She’d figured he’d lay off with the offers to buy her land during her busy season, not haunting her again until camp wound down, but the guy had balls of steel to show up on her first day, just after her arrivals. He’d gleefully informed her he had a new investor, so he could sweeten the pot on what he’d previously been offering.
When that new amount didn’t sway Hilly, not even the slightest, he’d pointed out—nastily—that a lot of her infrastructure was aging poorly, and she should watch out. Things could take a turn for the worse.
Had that been said to make Hilly worry, or was it a threat?
Either way, it was bullshit.
As far as the physical plant was concerned, Hilly wasn’t buying it. Along with expert help from Papa-J, she kept everything on the property in tip-top condition.
If he’d been making a veiled threat…
Langford could go pound sand.
In the end—after trying to be nice and telling the pain-in-the-ass interloper that she didn’t have time for him, that she was extremely busy getting everyone settled in for their first day at camp—he hadn’t taken her blatant hints. She’d eventually had to intimate that she’d call the police to have him removed.
He’d jeered at her proclamation, then taken his time to walk off smugly, not appearing daunted in the least.
Asshole.
She hoped today would be the last she’d see of the prick until camp closed down, but she doubted it.
Hilly flopped her body over on the mattress again.
A disgruntled, and very dramatic doggy-sigh sounded from the floor next to her.
Crap.
“I’m sorry, Nel,” she apologized quietly so as not to wake Buffy in the other room. “I’m keeping you awake with my tossing and turning, aren’t I?”
Nel gave one of those knowing, dog groans, and Hilly giggled.
