Summer Job
Montana Beach Book 2
When Robyn was promoted to manager of the Montana Beach Pier amusement park, she helped save it from near extinction. But her employees are still having a hard time adjusting to her new leadership role. With her father gone and only a few friends in Montana Beach, the stress at work carries over to the rest of her life. That is, until her newest employee steps through the door.
Jaden’s just looking for a summer job until he can find something more stable in the fall. Montana Beach might be a slower pace than his hometown, but his new boss and the romance that sparks between them makes the sleepy little town exciting.
When a coworker discovers their relationship, he threatens to reveal their secret, which could put their jobs and the future of the Pier at risk.
Excerpt
My alarm wakes me at six in the morning. It’s the first day of work this season at the Montana Beach Pier amusement park. Or just the Pier, as everyone calls it. I don’t have to be at work for another five hours, but I want to squeeze in some painting time before the day gets started.
With my eyes slits from the cruel bathroom light, I brush my teeth before hopping in the shower, readjusting to my familiar routine from last summer.
I wish I could say I’m excited about starting the season again. I mean, I guess I am, but that’s more to see the families stroll through the gates again. The kids are always so excited and they usually don’t know which ride to try first. And then, by the afternoon, they’re so hyped up on sugar and their parents are so drained from the sun that it makes for hilarious entertainment, even though I’m technically working.
But the door won’t open to guests for another week. In the meantime, my employees and I have to get everything up to snuff for opening day. Which means they’ll be cleaning up the rides after the maintenance guys check to make sure they’re running okay and I’ll be stuck in the office doing paperwork and getting our marketing materials together.
I step out of the shower, wrap a towel around myself, and walk into the second bedroom I use as part walk-in closet, part art studio. I don’t have too many clothes, but I do have more than the tiny closet in my bedroom would allow. Still, there’s enough space for my art supplies too. And all the paintings that are waiting to be sold. The perks of living alone, I guess. Anyway, I’m going to miss spending all day to paint the landscapes from around town, but I’ll squeeze in time to keep painting when I can.
As I pick out clothes to wear, I try to remember everything I have to do when I go in today. I made a couple trips to the Pier office last week to start getting some paperwork started. I also hired two new people: a cleaner and a concession person, bringing our total number of employees up to fifteen. Including me. Not a lot, but it works.
Actually, I have another interview today. If he seems sane enough, I think I’ll make him a ride operator. Out of the two other new employees, one is barely old enough to work, meaning I don’t feel comfortable putting him in charge of a ride for kids under ten, and the other doesn’t seem to even want a job, so I stuck her as a cleaner.
It seems mean, but that position is the easiest to make up for if we lose someone midseason. The guy I’m interviewing today might even spend half his shifts cleaning. We don’t have the budget to hire too many designated cleaners, so everyone has to chip in.
Once I’m showered and dressed, I return to the spare bedroom and really look at my work in progress. It’s starting to come together. I squeeze out some paint, dab in a brush, and get to work.
Usually I like to paint in the midst of my inspiration. Plein air, as it’s called in the art world. It helps me really get in touch with my surroundings, but since I don’t have a lot of time now that I’m working, I have to make do with a photo hanging on the wall above the canvas.
I work for a couple hours, filling out the canvas with more colors, bringing to life the sunrise scene that fills me with so many happy memories. Before I know it, it’s just after ten and I rush to clean up my paints in the bathroom sink that’s stained with colors from previous paintings; a work in progress itself.
Once I’m all cleaned up, I grab my bag and my keys and walk down to Atlantic Street, where there’s a tiny little coffee shop on the corner with First Street.
“You’re here early,” Nancy says from behind the counter. “Your usual?”
“Yes, please,” I respond. “It’s my first day back at the Pier.”
“Is it that time of year already?” She fills a to-go cup with a dark roast blend.
“Sure is. Creeps up faster each year.”
“And passes by just as quickly!” She chuckles, passing me my order. “Here you go, dear.”
I take the cup from her and hand her my card. “Maybe next year we’ll be able to expand the season a bit, but I still need to whip my employees into shape. I’ve got a few new ones this year.”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to, honey. I’ll have to bring my granddaughters down if I have time this year.”
“Oh yeah! That would be fun!” I take my card back and slip it in my wallet. Slinging my bag back on my shoulder, I head to the door. “Thanks, Nancy. Have a good day!”
“You too, dear!”
My assistant manager, Peggy, is already in the office when I get to work. She’s never early, so I must be a few minutes late. She has her feet up on the desk and is filing her nails while she snaps her gum.
“Sorry I’m late,” I mutter. She probably doesn’t care.
“Oh, you actually came back this year.”
“I just knew it would make your day.” I boot up the computer and take a sip of my coffee.
“I see you still haven’t found a real job,” she says.
“And neither have you,” I say as polite as I can.
This is our relationship each summer. Verbally jabbing each other under the veil of a joke. I think she might want me to quit, but it’s not like the owners would make her manager. They live up in North Beach and own several attractions up there. This tiny little pier all the way down in Montana Beach isn’t on their radar too much, but they’re still funding our operations, so that’s good. I can imagine the attractions up north are making a lot more money than we are, though.
If they’re forced to hire a new manager for the Pier, it might be easier for them to just close it. That’s where it was heading before I started. I trimmed the budget, beefed up policies, and started advertising to the right audience. In the three years that I’ve had the position, the annual number of visitors has gone up by thirty percent.
Of course, in the process of turning this place around, I had to lay a few people off, argue with the remaining employees about my new policies, and took on the reputation of bitch. Collateral damage for saving a small town business.
