“Well, think more, Melinda. You won’t get anywhere in life if you constantly forget things.”
“Excuse me?” I pushed his shoulder to distance myself from his cruel worlds. Chris was a lot of things, a pain in the ass on a good day, but deliberately hurtful? No, that wasn't him. I had no idea what had gotten into him. I hoped it wasn’t his brother getting up to mischief, but still. I didn’t deserve this. Not at all. “I am a smart woman, and it is thanks to me that you have all those bookings coming in for the resort, so remember that next time you are feeling like making me feel bad. Especially for something that has absolutely nothing to do with you and your resort. But maybe I should remind you about your forgetting things like cranking an emergency car? Makes forgetting a wallet seem like nothing, doesn’t it? At least I’m not risking anyone’s life.” I pushed by him, hitting my shoulder against his as I made my way into the coffee shop.
“We saw that,” Esther said. “Heard it too.”
“Mmmhmm, you tell him.” Mags hiccupped.
“Don’t mind her. She’s a lightweight,” Barb commented
“Bailey’s?” I asked.
“Yep. I slipped half of my Bailey's in there when she wasn’t looking,” Esther said.
I shook my head, more at Chris than I did Esther. I didn’t understand him. The morning after the chalet sleepover he was kind of distant too, but I chucked that up to him not being a morning person. Now it had been a couple of days.
“So? Who was the babe?” Barb asked, and if I had been in the mood, I would have laughed because she had on a floral blouse buttoned up to the neck and big brown eyeglasses that took up half her face. Not exactly the kind of lady that often called a man a “babe.”
“Him out there? No one.”
“I know by that tone he is most definitely someone,” Esther pursed her lips.
I shoved my wallet in my purse and sighed. “No. He’s my boss. My infuriating boss. And I thought he was nicer than he is.” I sat back down, making myself late for the meeting on purpose. I'd make a grand entrance in about an hour. “You know, you think you’re starting to get to know someone, truly get to know someone and bam! They prove you wrong. He is, yes, he is nice to look at and has always been nice to look at, but you know what? He is a pain in the butt and arrogant as hell.”
“Sounds sexy,” Esther said.
I ignored her. “You can’t trust guys like that. They are up to no good,” I picked away at the napkin on the table, tearing it to shreds. “I knew him in high school, you know. Same guy. Good at everything. Handsome. Got every any girl he wanted. Not that he ever got serious about anyone. Kept the whole world at bay. I should have known how he would turn out now because of how he treated me back then. I mean, please, tell me: who kisses you, liketrulykisses you, making you feel like you're flying and then the next day bring your best friend to the dance? Can you believe that? Holding her hand as if nothing happened. Bastard. Idiotically perfect bastard.”
“Well—” Barb started to say, but I cut her off.
“—He acted as if nothing happened between us. Ever. Never said a word. And for some reason, he still hates me. Still competes with me. He had to be the best back then, and he has to be the best now. Smarty-pants. Perfectly perfect, perfectly idiotic Mr. Perfect.”
“It sounds like—” Mags tried to say.
“—I mean, what could it have been? The punch? No, because he was still the same old Chris. Now to go on top of his impeccable resume for dating—I mean he's dated every model from here to China—he has a slew of medals from snowboarding. And then…” and then out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bess walking by the shop. “And see that girl? She has been nothing but a cruel little wench to me, and he isfriendswith her.” I'd think that someone with a brother in rehab would be less conceited, but life couldn't change a person when they didn't want to change.
“Doll, you are so hooked on this past. It’s eating you alive. I don’t understand it. Why? Why bother? Why hold on to all of that? It only makes life harder. Forget it. Let it go. If he’s an ass, he’s an ass. If he’s not, you’ll discover he’s not.” Esther patted my hand with reassurance, and when she got up, her posse followed. “Don't be so angry. It creases your eyes, just here,” she pointed to my temple. “Too young for wrinkles. A man ain’t worth that.”
Huh. I brought my fingers up to my temples and relaxed my face. Maybe Esther was onto something. Chris wasn't worth the wrinkles. And spending my time pining over Chris—because that was, on some level, what I was doing—was exhausting. I should work. I should live my life.
And Chris would become a thing of the past … again.
Hopefully.
