“I have no idea,” he offers. “But you two would be good together.”
I check the time. “Shit. I should probably get going. I’m cooking penne alla vodka.”
“Really?” He’s smirking.
“What?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
Zane walks me to the door.
“Let’s not be strangers while I’m here, okay?”
“You’re the one who left early in January,” he says. “But I’m glad you’re back. The mountain air has a way of healing someone. I came here last year and found myself.”
I chuckle. “I hope I’m as lucky.”
He claps me on the shoulder. “You will be. Just go with the flow. Learn to be spontaneous. Follow your heart. That’s the magic of Cozy Creek. Also, if dinner turns into a disaster, don’t panic. Call Cozy Pizza; they’ll deliver. Julie’s order is thick crust with pepperoni, mushrooms, and extra black olives.”
“Thanks,” I say.
He grins. “Six weeks, man. Hope you have the autumn of your life.”
“I hope I do too.”
Zane leans forward and pulls me into a brotherly hug. He holds me tight, and it’s only then that I realize how much I’ve missed him.
“I’ll see you.”
“See you,” he says.
I get in the Range Rover and take the switchbacks down the mountain to the road where the Riverside cabin is. I follow the gravel to the end until I approach the home. Calling this place a cabin is ridiculous. I think it has ten bedrooms and eight baths, and it’s pure luxury with marble floors and countertops.
When I walk in, I admire the vaulted ceilings, exposed beams, oversized fireplace, and a kitchen that puts my state-of-the-art penthouse to shame. I unpack groceries because, tonight, I’m making one of my sister’s favorite recipes, one I haven’t made in years. I set the bags on the counter, then wash my hands before I get to work.
Prep goes smoothly until I reach for the bottle of booze, realizing it’s missing. I walk out to the Range Rover to make sure it didn’t fall out, but it’s not there. Before I panic, I check the cabinets to see if anyone happened to leave vodka behind, but there’s nothing other than a bottle of unopened tequila.
“Shit,” I hiss, checking the time.
It’s already six o’clock, and the store is twenty minutes away. It’s not enough time.
I stare at the sautéed garlic, onions, and tomato paste, knowing I need the vodka now.
After I release a long sigh, I grab my phone and call Cozy Pizza to order.
By the time I’ve changed clothes and hidden all evidence of my attempt at making a nice dinner, it’s seven o’clock. The pizza arrives on time, and after I tip the delivery guy, I scan the driveway.
At 7:10 p.m., I pour a glass of wine and check my phone. Maybe she’s running late.
After I read the last text she sent me, it only confirms that I deserve to be ghosted.
Unknown
Thinking about you.
I remember I was at a swanky party with Asher and his fiancée, Billie Calloway. I could’ve responded, but what would I have said?
You’ve been on my mind since we met?
