“Haven’t been in town long enough for that. And no, I don’t plan on running into her,” he said, scowling. “She fled Denver to get away from me – not exactly a sign she’d be thrilled to see me again. It’s been over two months since we last talked, and that was only on the phone.”
“Right…” I trailed off, realizing it wasn’t the best subject to bring up.
He rose, buttoning his suit jacket. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it. Let’s text tonight and get Thursday figured out.”
“Sounds good.”
He gave me a cool, professional nod before heading out, shutting the door behind him.
I was confused. Annie and I had never met, but I’d heard plenty about her. I knew their relationship had ended badly because he’d dumped her once he found success. I’d seen pictures of her on his social media, selfies of the two of them looking like the perfect couple. I’d thought a man who was lucky to get a woman as beautiful as her would be a fool to let her go.
Andrew’d had other plans, evidently.
Annie
I was determined. The next morning when I woke up, I threw off the covers, ready to grab the day by the horns. But the moment I was up and on my feet, I stopped, nausea attacking me. I’d killed half a bottle of wine with Gia last night.
I gave myself a minute for the wooziness to pass. Luckily, I wasn’t too bad off. My head ached a little, but other than that I wasn’t too hungover. Nothing a nice shower wouldn’t fix. And being unemployed, I didn’t have to rush.
I got into the shower, and the moment the water hit my skin, I smiled. The apartment wasn’t much, but at least the water pressure was killer. After letting the water work its magic on my muscles, the headache fading by the minute, I was ready to start the day. I threw on some jeans and a blouse, pairing the outfit with some sneakers. Once that was done, I packed my MacBook and headed out.
It was a beautiful morning. I’d had doubts about whether or not packing my life up and heading forty minutes away to White Pines was the right call. But all it took to make me certain was a walk outside.
The air was cool and crisp – just chilly enough to feel fresh, but not enough to be uncomfortable. The sky was a clear blue, the mountains rising off in the distance. Everything about White Pines was picturesque Colorado beauty.
It was mid-winter, a few weeks before Christmas, about when I’d be well into my routine for substitute teaching. But I didn’t have that to worry about anymore. I was ready to get some coffee in me, to sit down and pound the digital pavement until I found a job.
I headed down the main drag of town. The citizens of White Pines were dressed in their usual wear of flannel tops and thick coats with rugged jeans. Every now and then I’d spot an obvious tourist from Denver wearing more trendy clothes, in town for the same reason I was – to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.
Up on the mountains, I spotted the little cluster of wood buildings that comprised the ski lodges, pairs of black lines from the sky carts coming down the mountain. I sucked in a deep breath, happy to soak up the atmosphere.
Apres Ski Roasters, my local coffee shop of choice, was on the corner a few blocks from my apartment building. White Pines had a nice little collection of coffee shops, café culture being a big part of the town. Moments later I was inside, the mellow ambience wrapping around me and inviting me in. Upbeat jazz played on the stereo, baristas zipped around behind the counter preparing drinks, and the tables were packed with people drinking their coffee while chatting, reading the paper, or getting some work done.
A small cluster of people was in front of the counter, but April, one of the baristas, waved to me as soon as I entered, setting a drink down on the counter.
“One skinny latte,” she said with a smile.
“Oh my God,” I said. “You’re a lifesaver, April.”
She winked. “How’s the job hunt going?”
“We’re about to find out,” I said, patting the bag I carried my laptop in. “One of the drawbacks of a small town like this – pickings can be slim.”
“True,” she sympathized. “But the pros outweigh the cons, in my opinion.” Her gaze drifted over my shoulder to the mountain vista behind us.
“Big agree on that.”
She flashed me one more smile before heading back to the grind, and I placed some bills with tip onto the counter before hurrying to my preferred spot in the corner. Once there, I set up my laptop and got to it.
I hadn’t been kidding when I’d said the pickings were slim. White Pines was a town with a population the size of one Denver neighborhood, which meant job openings weren’t exactly easy to come by. But I was still determined. I had a college degree and a few years of good experience. That had to count for something.
I didn’t get far into the job hunt, only typing in the classifieds into Google, before someone grabbed my attention.
“Skinny latte, huh?”
“What?” I was more surprised than anything, not even looking up from my computer.
“Interesting choice.”
Confused, I glanced up and saw a man a little older than me, dressed in a slick suit, a very pleased with himself smirk on his face. He was handsome-ish but dripping with arrogance that was obvious even from a quick look.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “The latte?”
“Yeah, the latte. I overheard you got it skinny. Kinda stupid when you’ve got a body like yours. Doubt you need to lose a pound.”
His comment was so jaw-dropping that I didn’t even know what to say.
“I like my women curvy like you,” he said. “Skinny chicks are overrated.”
“Um…what?”
Despite how clearly stunned I was at his comments, the man took this as his cue to drop into the seat across from me. The laptop was open in front of us and I left it there, as though it were a barrier keeping him from me.
“You know,” he said. “More junk in the trunk. More cushion for the pushin’ – that kind of thing.”
“What the hell are you—”
Before I could finish, he shot his hand out, nearly knocking over my latte. “Name’s Shawn,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.”
I stared at his hand, shocked by his ballsy approach.
“But you don’t need to introduce yourself – I heard April call you Annie.” He glanced over my shoulder at April. “Like her. I mean, she’s a babe. Don’t get me wrong. But too skinny. Girls like that, you feel like you might break them when you’re…you know.” He grinned, as if he’d just cracked a funny joke instead of being totally tasteless.
Part of me wanted to tear into the asshole. The teacher, diplomatic as ever, came out first. “Listen, uh, Shawn. I’m kind of in the middle of some stuff right now. Nice meeting you, but I should get back to it.”
He shook his head, as if that answer wasn’t good enough for him. “You mean this?” he asked. He placed his fingertips on the top of my computer, pushing the screen forward and closed. “Technology, you know? It’s supposed to bring us together, but I find it just gets in the way.”
“Alright,” I said, my expression enough for most people to understand I wasn’t thrilled. “I’m trying to be nice here, but don’t touch my stuff.”