“I used to see faces,” she offered back. “Friendly faces in all shapes and sizes.”
Huh. Were there not enough smiles in her young life that she had to make them up in the sky? That was a stretch on his part, but he could already tell that Hilly had a cautious way about her that spoke of being hurt sometime in the past.
She went on as if she hadn’t just revealed something about herself. “After free time, that’s when we have our physical challenges.”
“Such as…?” Cisco asked, letting her get away with the subject change. For now.
“We have archery, a ropes course, a climbing tower, gymnastics. This is the time slot, from one-thirty to two-thirty, where I see adding you in twice a week.”
Cisco saw the efficacy in that.
She was brainstorming now. “During nice weather, you can hold your classes in the open-air pavilion by the lake. And when it’s too cold or windy outside, we can clear an area in here for you. I don’t know how long your sessions normally last, but we have one hundred campers, and I was envisioning twenty-five for each of four, half-hour instruction periods.”
Cisco thought it over, and wasn’t sure he could fit everything he wanted to show and tell into thirty minutes. “Do you have another fitness session during the day? I could do two more, later on.”
“We do. One more, from five to six just before dinner,” she told him. “After their early afternoon physical challenge is complete, the kids go into the dining hall for drama club, followed by an afternoon swim if its nice out, or some kind of semi-indoor sport if it’s not. Next is snack break, and more crafts, then another sports session like they had earlier in the day, with the kids rotating through the various offerings. But you don’t have to do the extra classes,” she assured him.
“But I want to.” Cisco would have to clear it with Chief Ildavorg, but he didn’t think the man would have any problems with his impromptu offer. “What if I do two, one-hour sessions with twenty-five campers each day I’m here? Two, one-thirty to two-thirty classes, and two from five to six, Tuesday and Thursday. Would that work for you?”
Hilly scowled. “Well, I…um… That’s a generous offer of your time, but… With that commitment, what would you do with yourself to fill your time? Between sessions I mean,” she clarified.
Cisco tried not to let his excitement show over possibly being within Hilly’s sphere for several hours at a time. “Oh. I think I can keep myself occupied. I’ve never been a huge drama guy, but I love snacks,” he quipped. “And swim and sports outings sound like they could be a lot of fun.” What would Hilly look like in a bathing suit? “As for craft hour? I can paint a little, and I throw a mean, clay pot. But if you don’t have oils or a wheel, you could still probably use another set of hands to set up supplies, or clean up messes.” He attempted an innocent look.
Say yes. Say yes.
Cisco couldn’t figure out why it was suddenly so important that Hilly give him this. It must be that he hadn’t felt challenged by a woman’s indifference in… Well, ever, if he were honest.
He couldn’t recall a time where a female hadn’t been swayed by his natural charm, and he wasn’t about to have his winning streak halted now.
At least that’s what he told himself.
CHAPTER FOUR
Huh.
It was clear that Cisco didn’t recognize her.
Hilly didn’t know whether to be relieved or offended. Not that she’d fill the man in on who she was…who she’d been. Nope. If he’d chosen to forget the chubby girl named Kay who’d dogged his footsteps throughout middle school, it was definitely for the best. She didn’t do hero-worship anymore.
Since that time, twenty-one years ago, Hilly had come a long way, and although Cisco’s presence had thrown her for a moment—with scenes of her younger years momentarily flashing through her head—she could let the past go and pretend they were strangers. Which, if he’d remembered her, would have been impossible.
Back then, when they’d traversed the same hallways, her name had been Kay Smittfield, the Kay being short for Kayhill, and the last name being the one with which she’d been blessed by her prick of a sperm donor. When, in sixth grade, her mother had finally kicked the asshole to the curb, then two years later married her current hubby, Jenson Duncan, Kay had gladly changed her first name to Hilly. And with her new Papa Jenson’s blessing, she’d swapped her last name for his.
She’d never looked back.
After all the negativity with which she’d grown up, Hilly had finally gained a mother who was happy and loved, and a step-father who adored them both. There was no need for Hilly to revisit her painful youth.
Been there. Done that. And it sucked ass.
She got her head back in the moment and replayed Cisco’s offer.
“You want to help out between self-defense lessons,” Hilly stated, still not sure if she’d heard Cisco correctly. The sports-oriented, chick-magnet she remembered wasn’t the kind of guy who filled his days with busy-work. And hell. She was damned sure he wouldn’t know gimp from gesso.
“Why not?” he shrugged. “I’ve been out of touch with the creative side of myself as an adult, but I’m assuming that the more warm bodies you have to help with your craft stuff, the better. Even if I’m not a master of the fine arts.”
What could Hilly say? Cisco was correct. The more input her campers had, the more nurturing instructors cheering them on, the better their experience would be. She simply needed to keep an open mind. If she could change as much as she had over the past two decades, then it was only fair to give Cisco the benefit of the doubt that maybe he’d done the same.
Of course, at the first inkling the man was still an arrogant player, she’d kick his ass out of her camp so fast his bike tires wouldn’t find traction, then she’d ask Chief Ildavorg to recommend someone else. For now, however, she didn’t want to look ungrateful for Cisco’s presence as their hand-to-hand instructor, or for his offer to chip in elsewhere.
She sucked up her pride, and gave him a phony smile. “I’m sure the kids will love to have you hanging around between sessions and helping to mentor them.” Hilly eyeballed the man’s large impressive form, trying to ignore the breadth of his shoulders and his thick, curly hair while she formed her next question. “How much do you actually know about our camp?”
He shrugged, but in a fill-me-in kind of way, not in a “duh” manner. “Very little. I gleaned from my chief that you’re operational from now through the end of August, and you’ve told me how many campers you have, and what your daily schedule looks like. That’s the extent of my knowledge.”
“Let’s take a walk around camp, then,” Hilly said, getting up from her chair. “You can familiarize yourself with the place while I fill you in on a few of our particulars.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Cisco replied, following suit to rise, but scooting around her. He beat her to the door, which he politely held open.
Hilly secretly rolled her eyes, but held her tongue. If Cisco wanted to knock himself out to look like a gentleman, she wouldn’t stop him.
She walked a few steps out into the bright sunlight. “Have you ever attended a camp, Mr. Andera?”
“Cisco. Please,” he responded with a breathtaking smile.
Hilly gritted her teeth. “Cisco,” she agreed with a nod as they walked. If she was going to get along with him, she might as well make an effort to be civil.
“And the answer is yes. I went to Kick-Starters Soccer Camp for two years during high school,” he offered, then his mouth turned up into a devastatingly adorable, crooked grin that had one dimple popping out on his cheek.
Right. Because the man needed something else that made him even hotter than he already was.
