Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
My eyes nearly fall out of my head. “Patty Johnson? How’d you manage that?” Patty Johnson was one of the most formidable girls at our high school. She was two years older than us and ran the school more than the principal did. Just like her mother before her, she was an influencer before the time of social media. She decided what was cool and what wasn’t. The sweater every girl should own, the boys the girls were allowed to ask to the spring formal. At fourteen, when she took up the flute out of nowhere, every kid in the school badgered their parents for lessons.
Walt laughs. “It took me a while to win her over, but perseverance paid off.”
“He married Patty?” I say to Eva, as she delivers a bowl of chips.
“A thousand years ago,” Eva says. “It’s been a while, Byron Miller.”
For a second, I wonder why it’s been so long. Everything’s so welcoming and warm and familiar. For almost a minute, I can forget all the pain that came with this place.
“I gotta go,” Walt says. “Patty watches Love Island with Sue. I have to go pick her up.” He pauses, and I want to make a time for us to catch up, but I stop myself, because what’s the point? We’ll catch up, and I’ll probably never see him again. I’m here to do a job—get the Colorado Club up and running. I’m not here to take a walk down memory lane. However nice that walk might start off, it’ll soon turn dark and muddy, and before I know it, I’ll be waist-high in cow shit.
“I’ll see you Sunday,” he says.
For a second I’m confused, and then I remember Jim’s invitation. It’s not like I’m planning to go. But maybe I should. I do need to get Sue on board. We’ve got to fill the vacancies up at the Club.
I chuckle. “Maybe you will.”
He gives me a two-fingered salute and heads out. I order another beer and surreptitiously scan the rest of the bar. Is there anyone else here I need to talk to? Any other old-school influencers?
The runaway bride next to me is on her phone. She has long fingers, and she’s gripping the device like she’s holding on to a life raft. I wonder if she really is a runaway bride or if she’s an extra from a film or a model from a photo shoot. None of the potential explanations for the white dress explain why she’s sitting on the stool next to me.
I wouldn’t consider myself a nosey person. Not normally. But I’ve come back to Star Falls after fifteen years and nothing much seems to have changed. The woman next to me is the exception. I’m surprised Jim didn’t ask her to fill out a questionnaire so he could report back to the rest of the town about who she is and why she’s at Grizzly’s. This town likes to know every single detail of each other’s lives.
The bartender asks if she wants another drink. The woman pauses for a second before she asks for tap water. I want to offer to buy her a drink, but then it would get awkward, because she might think I’m making a pass at her. I wouldn’t be. Not that she’s not attractive—she is. Big blue eyes and flawless skin and dark hair that’s curled at the ends and seems to go on forever.
I’m staring.
If we were back in New York right now, I would have had a drink thrown in my face at the very least.
But we’re definitely not in New York, and I’m not sure she’s even noticed my staring. She’s too lost in her thoughts. Probably she’s thinking about the groom she jilted or the town she just rolled into. I’d pay more than a penny to know what exactly is on her mind.
When the bartender delivers the water, the bride asks, “I checked at the little inn on the corner, the one with the snowdrops in pots on the stoop? To see if they had any rooms for the night—two nights maybe—but they were completely full. They suggested I try here. Do you have rooms?”
There’s only one inn in town—snowdrops or no snowdrops.
“We don’t have rooms,” the bartender says. “Tanya probably meant for you to ask around in here.” He briefly slides his gaze to me. “We have a few Airbnbs in town but I think most things are fully booked.” She looks a little confused. And she should be. It’s not like Star Falls is hosting an annual film festival or anything, but the Colorado Club has booked out the Snowdrop Inn for senior managers who are still looking for accommodations. And I booked out Beth and Mike’s two cabins because they’re the closest accommodations to the Club. I’m only living in one of them, but I didn’t want a nosey neighbor keeping track of my comings and goings.