“I wondered how long it would take you to find us,” Morgan said.
“I got a tip from Eloise.” Reese stood, staring at her. “Your hair?”
Ryan ran a hand over her now very short hair. “We look like twins now, huh?”
Reese finally sat down. “I imagine Amber got a hold of you. She cuts mine shorter every time I go.”
“Yeah, but I hear you used to get it cut in Gunnison.”
“I was afraid of Stella.”
“Morgan said I should ask you about the first time you got it cut.” Ryan laughed as the normally unflappable Reese Daniels actually blushed. “Wow, this has got to be good.”
Reese glanced at Morgan with a smile. “I think that I was the victim in that instance.”
“Victim? You weren’t acting like the victim at the time, sweetheart. In fact, you were nearly begging—”
“Okay, okay. She doesn’t need to know all that,” Reese said quickly.
“You had sex in the salon?” Ryan guessed.
Reese shook her head. “No. But while we were driving to the grocery store, she attacked me in the truck.”
“Attacked? I was the one driving,” Morgan said.
“Exactly. It’s a wonder we didn’t have a wreck, what with you shoving your hand down my pants and all.”
Ryan laughed with them, again envious of their relationship. It made her wish—hope—that someday she might have that. The closeness that comes with living with someone, sharing thoughts, feelings. Laughing, playing...and loving. She wasn’t all that surprised to find herself picturing Jen’s face at that moment.
“So, are you down just for the day or are you staying?” Reese asked.
“I thought I’d stay the night, if you don’t mind,” she said. “I need to make a run into Gunnison for supplies. Thought I’d do that in the morning.”
“Sounds great. Good excuse to get the grill out. I’d love a steak,” Reese said.
“Are you staying for lunch?” Morgan asked her.
“No. I need to play sheriff. Googan’s got his car over at Sammy’s shop. Flat and no spare, so I’m taking his patrol,” she explained. “You two have fun. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Be careful,” Morgan said.
“Always.”
Morgan had a smile on her face even after Reese was out of sight. “I love that woman,” she said simply.
“I know.”
Before she could say more, Tracy brought their burgers over. Ryan’s mouth watered at the sight.
“Another beer?”
“No thanks, Tracy. But a glass of water would be great,” she said as she reached for her prize. She moaned as she took her first bite. It was sinfully delicious. She had nearly devoured half of hers before Morgan even got started.
“That good, huh?”
“Excellent,” she managed around another bite.
“So what are your plans for the summer?” Morgan asked. “Will we get to see you more often?”
“I imagine so. My writing’s kinda stalled at the moment.”
“Stalled? Why?”
Ryan shrugged. “It happens. It’s the weather,” she said. “I’d rather be out exploring.”
“Well, it’s not like you have a deadline.”
“That’s true,” she said with a grin. “I will have to make a trip out East though. My grandmother’s annual birthday bash.”
“You’re going again? When you came back last year, you said that was your last one.”
“Yeah. I say that every year. But she’s eighty-nine, and she would be terribly hurt if I didn’t go. Besides, it’s for a good cause.”
“You hate charity events,” Morgan reminded her.
“I hate charity events that involve my mother,” Ryan corrected. “I will admit she’s good at it and puts on a good show but that’s all it is to her—a show.”
“It’s for Parkinson’s, right?”
“Yes. My great-grandfather had the disease.”
“So how many years will this be?”
“I think my grandmother was in her forties when she started having these. It’s evolved over the years, and it attracts a lot of celebrities now,” Ryan said with a roll of her eyes. “My mother’s doing.”
“I can see how much you love it,” Morgan said with a laugh.
“I dread it,” Ryan said. “And if it were anyone other than my grandmother, I wouldn’t hesitate to say no.”
“I guess it’s good you’re going. Maybe one of these visits, you and your mother can reconcile your differences.”
“So when I tell you how shallow and superficial she is, you don’t believe me?”
“Yes. I know she comes across as posturing, even on TV, but she’s still your mother. There has to be some connection between you two.”
“No, there isn’t. We have nothing in common. My beliefs are so different than hers. Whatever ambition I had as a child, she tried to curb it. She wanted me to be a replica of her, nothing more than a wealthy woman from a wealthy family marrying into an even wealthier family. That’s what her mother did, that’s what she did. I was supposed to continue the cycle.”
“Your parents, do they have a relationship?”
“You mean, did they marry for love?” Ryan shook her head. “No. That’s not how it works. My father has a mistress.”
“Does your mother know?”
“Of course. And she has her own affairs from time to time. But in public, they come across as a happily married couple. Years of practice, something they learned from their own parents, I’m sure.”
“Do you think that if all of that hadn’t happened with your book, you would have fallen into the same trap?”
Ryan shook her head. “No. I obviously wasn’t going to marry, and my mother finally accepted that I wasn’t just going through a gay ‘phase,’” she said. “She turned her focus to my brother, but he has no intention of settling down. He also has no interest in delving into the family business. Nor do I,” she added.
“
Is
there a family business? I mean, I know all of the hotels and everything and then the casino, but is that something that your father really has a hand in?”
“President is his official title, not CEO. But it’s still a private company, so he has a lot of power. Actually, my grandmother was still involved with it too, well into her seventies.”
“It’s hard for me to think of you living in that world,” Morgan said.
“I know. And for the last ten years, I haven’t been a part of it. I could never go back.”
She knew that to be true. Going back once a year, to honor her grandmother, was as much as she could stand. Once her grandmother was gone, she wondered if she’d ever go back at all.
“So Brad’s not the only guy you’ve slept with, is he?”
Jen felt herself blushing from head to toe at Cheryl’s question. She glanced around the bar, hoping no one had heard.
“Oh my God,” Cheryl said. “Seriously? That’s not normal.”
“Normal for whom?” Jen asked. “It was perfectly normal for me, considering I didn’t know a thing about dating—or guys—until I was a senior in college.”
Cheryl leaned forward. “So maybe that’s the problem. He’s the only one you’ve been with. Maybe you don’t have anything to compare it to.”
“What are you saying?”
“Maybe you need to, you know, date and stuff.”
Jen shook her head. “No. That thought is nauseating.”
Cheryl grinned. “The guy part? So then date women.”
Jen laughed. “Okay, that’s only slightly less nauseating. The idea of me going out and dating guys—or women—well, it’s frightening. You know, that’s just so out of my element. I’m not at all comfortable in that scene.”
“You write self-help books, for God’s sake. Do you not read what you write?”
Jen laughed again. “I don’t think I’ve ever touched on this particular situation. Besides, honestly, I hate yoga. And I can’t meditate worth a damn.”
“What? But every book—”
“I know, I know,” she said. “Yoga bores me. I’ve gone to hundreds of classes and I just don’t get it. I can do the poses, the exercises, but it doesn’t
move
me. I just can’t connect with it like most do.” She paused. “You know Susan wants me to start on a fourth, don’t you?”
“Yes. Are you still stalling?”
Jen nodded. “The desire is just not there. I don’t know how some put out six, seven, even ten self-help books. What can they possibly still have to say?”
“But motivational books still sell,” Cheryl said.
“Oh, I know. And I’m very thankful for that. But I just don’t think I can do another.”
“So you’re still going to try your hand at fiction?”
“I have a couple of ideas, and I have the time and resources,” she said with a shrug. “If I don’t do it now, when will I?”
“I just know how critical you are of your work. I don’t want you to get discouraged.”
Jen smiled. Yes, Cheryl knew her well. “I’ll try my best not to be my worst critic.”
Cheryl leaned back, watching her. “So how are you? I mean...you know.”
Jen stared down into what was left of her drink. “I miss her.” She looked up. “I miss her a lot.” She tried to smile but failed. “I thought I’d be over it by now. It’s been nearly two months. But I...I still miss her.”
“Have you told Brad anything about her?”
Jen shook her head. “No. But Brad’s been great. We’ve been able to transition into just a friendship so easily, I think he now realizes how forced our relationship was. For both of us.”
“Is he dating?”
“Haven’t you heard? He’s been going out with Michael’s sister.”
“The one that was at their party?”
“Yes. Tara. She’s younger, just out of college, but I think he really likes her.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Yes. I want him to be happy. We’re in a good place now. We see each other at least once a week, talk on the phone more.” And it was good. Their friendship had strengthened, and if she ever felt the need to talk about Ryan and her feelings—she felt certain he would listen.
Cheryl leaned forward, her voice low. “So when I start looking for someone to set you up with, should I look for a male or female?”
Jen laughed good-naturedly. “Are you asking me which gender is in my nighttime fantasies?”
“Do I dare?”
Jen looked away, remembering the very vivid dreams she had been having, dreams of touching, of kissing. Passionate dreams of making love. In each one, her fantasy lover was always Ryan. She looked up, knowing she wouldn’t have to answer the question.
Cheryl nodded. “I see.”
“I’m sorry if that shocks you or disappoints you in some way,” Jen said.
Cheryl reached across the table and took her hand. “You could never disappoint me. But I will admit, I’m still a little shocked by the whole thing.”
Jen smiled affectionately at her friend. “Thank you. And to be honest, I’m a little shocked by it as well.”
Ryan slung her backpack over her shoulder and headed across the tarmac to her father’s private jet. As was usually the case, she was dreading going back East. Dreading dealing with her mother, dreading trying to hide from the media who would be at her grandmother’s birthday bash. While it would be good to see her brother, she usually could only tolerate him for a day before she wanted to run away screaming. He had not a care in the world and about the same amount of ambition as well.
As she neared the jet, a man came around the side. It was Jeffery, her father’s pilot. He stopped short, staring at her for a long moment.
“Why, Miss Catherine, I hardly recognized you.”
Ryan frowned, then remembered her hair. She was used to it now and was no longer startled when she looked in the mirror. She brought up a hand to rub over it, having just visited Amber for the second time two days ago.
“Needed a change, Jeffery. How are you?”
“Good. I got your message yesterday. You want to stop over for just the one night?”
She hesitated, wondering at the wisdom of her decision. She could always change her mind. In fact, that would be best. Just head straight to The Hamptons and leave well enough alone. But she couldn’t.
“Yes. Just the one night.”
“Okay. She’s all ready to go when you are.”
She nodded, then preceded him up the steps and into the plush interior of the jet, tossing her backpack on one of the seats before settling down herself. She was suddenly very nervous, and it had nothing to do with flying.
The afternoon sun was sinking lower, the light having moved from her window. Jen looked up from her desk, noting the colors as they changed. It appeared they would be graced with another spectacular sunset. She saved what she’d been working on—had been working on all day—and stood, stretching her back as she raised her arms up over her head.
Sunsets were something she never paid much attention to before. But during the seven weeks she’d been up in the mountains, they’d witnessed quite a few. Lately, as she’d watch the sun disappear, she often wondered if Ryan was watching too. She imagined her up on the ridge, both dogs by her side as she gazed to the west.
She couldn’t believe how hard it was to push Ryan away, out of her thoughts. She seemed to constantly be there. Sometimes, she took comfort in that. Other times, like now, it just made her feel very alone. She turned away from the setting sun, as if doing that might banish Ryan from her thoughts.
She still didn’t know what she was going to do. While she and Brad remained friends, he had moved on from their relationship. She wanted to as well, but she didn’t know where to move
to
. The thought of dating—even though she wasn’t the same shy girl she’d been in college—was daunting. And even if she did feel confident enough, the thought of meeting new people, whether male or female, just wasn’t appealing to her. She told herself she wanted to focus on her writing, but maybe that was just an excuse.
Oh, she still went out with their group of friends, she still met Cheryl for lunch or dinner. And she and Brad still shared a meal at least once a week. She wasn’t starved for company. She just missed the intimacy that came with being lovers. She laughed slightly as she made her way to the kitchen. While she and Brad had been lovers, their conversations had never been intimate. In fact, nothing had changed in that regard.
She opened the fridge, hoping to miraculously find dinner. The chicken parmesan she and Brad had made two nights ago was still there, but that didn’t appeal to her. She closed the fridge and opened the freezer. After scanning the contents, she closed that as well. The doorbell rang just as she was about to open the pantry. She glanced at the clock, wondering who it could be.