The Summer of Us: A Romance Anthology

by AJ Matthews

  Libra Press is a division of Equilibria, LLC

  Chateaubriand and Sauvignon

  “Buckle up, Buttercup”

  “Aargh!” Careening towards the white-tiled kitchen counter, Cami Winston threw her hands out, recovering just before she bashed her chin. Righting herself, she slapped dusty breeches with reddened palms. The canine offender she’d tripped over yawned. Four stubby legs emerged from a fat, furry white body.

  “Really, Stumpy?” Cami complained. “Really?”

  Stumpy lifted an eyebrow, barely curious, then rolled over, showing his pink belly.

  “Why don’t I look where I’m going, you ask?” Cami grumbled, fully aware that she was reducing herself to arguing with her dog. “Because the exact place I’m about to step is always where you’ll be laying. You know that, darn it! I should have called you Tripp.”

  But already asleep again, the white bull terrier just snored.

  “Are you okay?” Aliah asked, switching off her immersion blender and handing Cami a big to-go cup filled to the brim.

  “Okay, just totally. . ” Removing the cup’s lid, Cami sniffed, giving Liah’s morning concoction a suspicious once over. It wasn’t green, thankfully. Nor did it involve brown, seedy, floaty things that better belonged in her horse’s feed buckets. . .

  “You’re just totally freaked by Heavenly’s accident,” Aliah interjected, eyeing Cami with sympathetically, her almond hazel eyes fringed with the prettiest eyelashes of anyone Cami knew. “Of course you are. Anybody would be. Breakfast is banana, strawberries and protein powder, just what you need. No alfalfa grass or flax seeds today, honeypie. Drink up!”

  Ravenously hungry, grateful for her friend’s merciful attentions, Cami sucked pure deliciousness through the straw, waking her taste buds, if nothing else.“This’ll work wonders, Liah, thanks.”

  “Sure, Cam. When did you get in last night?” Aliah raised an eyebrow, all careful scrutiny.

  “I hosed and walked Heavenly at midnight, then went back to the barn this morning at four.” Suddenly fully awake, anxious for her mare, Cami glanced at her phone, her mind once again on her problems at the barn. “I have to get back there, I’m late. I can’t miss a shift, and it’s been four hours, already. I would have crashed in the haymow, but I need the saddle pads I left in the dryer for today’s lessons. Why are you up so early? It’s Saturday.”

  “Inventory day at Sauvignon. Today we count the bottles left in the wine cellars, then sample what we’ll stock for the coming months. Today’s our first at the new restaurant, so Marcus is celebrating with lunch. Chateaubriand, asparagus, scalloped potatoes, strawberry shortcake, the biscuit kind that you like, and fresh whipped cream. You should join us.”

  Cami kept her face a careful blank. Marcus had been guest teaching a three-credit wine class at Greystone when he and Cami hooked up. Despite the years that had passed, Liah was convinced the sun rose and set over Marcus’ head, and was still trying to orchestrate some reconciliation between them.

  “He asked me to make sure to invite you,” Liah continued. “We’re worried about you, Cam.”

  Cami hoped Liah didn’t catch the blush she felt crawling up her neck. Taking saddle pads from the dryer, she tried for nonchalant. “Marcus and I were over years ago, Liah. You can’t really expect me to let him feed me a consolation charity lunch at the fancy restaurant his divorce settlement netted him, can you? How pathetic would that be?”

  Anxious to change the subject, Cami stuffed the pads into a big muslin bag. But Liah was a perfectionist, way too nice, and always felt like she had to go over things again and again to mend them, which just wasn’t the case.

  Aliah crossed slender arms over the pale pink nightshirt that covered her panties and just touched the tops of her slim, coffee-tanned legs, sighing, “I hate that you guys. . didn’t stay. . friends?”

  “Didn’t stay friends? After Marcus’ surprise wedding to another woman?”Cami tried hard not to glare at Liah, but having this conversation yet again was just ludicrous. Liah was supposed to be her best friend, and Marcus had jilted Cami, badly.

  Liah persisted. “I just wish it wasn’t so . . tense. You guys are my best friends, y’know? I wish it was. . I don’t know, more. . . ”

  “Friendly? Really?” Feeling full-on snappish now, Cami pulled the drawstring closed and tossed the big bag towards the door. It skimmed over Stumpy, who probably didn’t notice. Cami wrenched the door of their ancient fridge open, trying to quell the hot shots of anger coursing in her blood. Cool air flooded her face as she struggled to regain composure. “It would not have been very cool for us to be ‘friends’ during Marcus’ obviously rigged marriage to Therese Valdezzi, Liah, and it’s still not cool. Thanks to his marriage slash no surprise divorce, he’s now worth half a wine fortune and then some. You think this is a good time for me to start hanging all over him again? I don’t! I may once have been the dumb bakery girl who let him kiss me in Greystone’s walk-in, but I’ve had a reality check since then, you know!”

  “There’s more to it, Cami, stuff you don’t know. Therese’s father demanded a pre nup, for starters,” Aliah told her calmly, washing up at the sink, so all Cami could see was her long dark runner’s legs, and long corkscrew curls. “Which Marcus agreed to, happily. It wasn’t about money. He and Therese are still good friends. .” Here, Cami rolled her eyes, but Aliah turned, making eye contact, continuing. “Please don’t underestimate yourself, Cam. You may think Marcus is a jerk, but he really, really liked you. The thing between you guys couldn’t. . .you know that, Cam. You were his student. We both were.”

  Hiding behind the refrigerator door, Cami closed her eyes tightly. She was trying so hard to play it off, but inside, she was boiling, her insides scalded, like burnt milk. Setting her jaw, she said, “I should stop by the restaurant, Liah, congratulate him, I know I should, but I’m not quite up for that yet. I’m still reeling with Heavenly’s injury. It’s going to be weird. Six months before he married Therese, Marcus had his nose between my. . .”

  Oh, God. She’d said too much. Way-y-y too much.

  This was what stress did to her.

  Liah’s delicate sensibilities kicked in. Tossing Cami a fiery look, she preached,“Where it didn’t belong, because you were his student. Don’t miss the best free lunch in town, babe,” Aliah told her, back at the sink now, whipping warm soapy water with her ever present blender. “I’d love for you to join us for chateaubriand and a glass of wine or two, then you can come home for a nap.” Cami could tell Aliah was warming to her plan. “I can prep early, take your afternoon shift hosing Heavenly so you can get some sleep. You have be back at the barn tonight, right?”

  Cami nodded in the affirmative.

  “Okay, then you’ll definitely need a nap. I’ll have plenty of time to take care of the horse, then run back to the restaurant to change and be open by five. Will B be there?”

  “Maybe.”

  Turning now, so the sheen of her gorgeous black curls flashed in the stream of morning sunlight coming in the window, Aliah continued, “Marcus will understand. In fact, he’ll be delighted that I’m able to help.” She looked at Cami, hard. “I’ve told him what all this worry and stress is doing to you.”

  Gripping the handle of the rounded, ancient fridge, Cami pleaded, “Don’t, Liah. Please don’t tell Marcus what’s going on with my life. I know you trust him, but I. . I’d rather he didn’t know the gory details of my current crazy.” Sandwich fixings in hand, she moved to the white tiled counter, trying hard to keep from letting her friend see the emotion in her face. “Sorry, but I’m not about to be. . chummy with Marcus. The time for that is long past.” Grabbing one of the sourdough rolls Aliah had brought home from the restaurant, Cami caught Aliah’s dismayed face.

  Ugh.

  The guilt.

  Aliah was such a good friend, such a good person, so sensitive, so concerned, so tuned in, so. . .worried.

  Obviously.

  Damn.

  Ta
king the serrated knife to the roll, Cami did her best to throw Liah a bone. “Sauvignon must be amazing, and I do owe you a visit there, Liah. I know I do. Marcus might be impossible, but he was smart enough to hire a wine steward who’s as passionate about wines as he is. Sauvignon’s got the sweetest, most talented, friendliest sommelier of any restaurant in Sonoma, hands down.”

  “Aww, thanks, Cam,” Liah smiled.

  Delving into the dijon mustard jar, Cami flourished her butter knife over the stacks of thinly sliced roast beef she’d laid on the roll and smiled at her friend.“Great sourdough, too.”

  “Emilio does incredible breads. Marcus won’t let him near the desserts, though,” Liah said soberly, venturing, “We need a pastry chef, Cami. A good one.”

  “Sorry, Liah. My days making perfect desserts were a lifetime ago.”

  “Might help pay some vet bills,” Aliah answered lightly, eyeing her carefully.

  “Don’t remind me,” Cami snapped, trying hard not to be annoyed in the face of her friend’s eminently practical suggestion. Reality loomed. Her bills were overwhelming, but even so, Cami couldn’t face the hot ovens and pounds and pounds of butter, chocolate, and sugar that had gone into the creation of her award winning desserts. No way.

  Her days as dessert girl were over.

  Besides, slaving in front of Marcus’ hot ovens at four in the morning was out of the question, because inevitably, despite her best intentions, the mood would strike, and then Marcus might con her again, taking her backward, frontward, sideways, and, sheesh, probably upside down, too.

  He’d always taken what she’d been fool enough to offer, and then some.

  “No more excruciating to achieve the perfect pain au chocolat for me, Liah,” she asserted, shoving her sandwich in a plastic bag. “I’m a horse girl through and through.”

  As she headed for the door, Aliah blocked her, holding up two granola bars, a water bottle, and an apple. Dumping the extra rations in Cami big tote, she said, “I’m worried for you, Cam. How are things going at the barn, really?”

  The summer Cami had dreamed of, worked and saved for had become a nightmare, and Liah knew it. Instead of spending hot hours schooling her young jumper for a standout round at the Napa Valley Classic, Cami was tackling frantic therapy shifts on an injured mare while fighting anxious panic. The jarring sense of loss she’d experienced with Heavenly’s injury had settled into a muted despair that sucked at her constantly.

  It was turning her inside out.

  To avoid meeting her friend’s worried face, Cami glared down at Stumpy. Nudging the obstinate white chunk of a mutt with her toe, she said, “C’mon you lazy, worthless fuzzball. We’ve got work to do.”

  As Stumpy groaned, stretched, and moseyed to his feet, she lifted her chin. Sucking a breath to steady her voice, she met Liah’s frank concern head on. “For three years, I worked eighty hours a week making fancy desserts in order to buy Heavenly, Liah. I sunk all my savings into that mare, and she bowed a tendon two weeks before our first appearance in the show ring. What can I say? Heavenly’s tendon may not heal, but her bloodlines are phenomenal. She’ll make a mighty fancy broodmare. I guess its the chance every horse owner takes. I’m just. . trying to get through it.”

  “Have you been able to straighten out your barn rent?” Aliah asked gently.

  Cami managed to stifle the scream she felt rising from her middle. That scream would have to wait for the car ride; she’d turn the radio up and sing as loud as she could, tears of grief rolling down her face, as they did anytime she was alone these days.

  It wasn’t Liah’s fault her entire career was on the brink of ruin.

  The goals Cami Winston had worked tirelessly for fifteen or more years had evaporated in the past week.

  Financially, she was close to bottoming out.

  Her aspirations as a serious competitor were likely over.

  Kaput. Done.

  It wasn’t an easy reality to swallow.

  In the face of her disorienting bad luck, Cami had begun to lose the sense that she knew who she was anymore. Exhaustion had left her so snappy that her best friend was was even tip-toeing around her, hence the strawberries substitute for alfalfa juice.

  Exhaling a forced breath, Cami admitted, “Madame Dolores Estella Sandringham is still MIA. And her snot-ass fancy lawyer’s firm isn’t taking my calls. Obviously, something is up. It’s summer, I’m jammed with lessons, I’ve got an injured horse, insane vet bills, and no hope of competing in the event I was counting on to seal my professional reputation amongst Sonoma’s horse set. Rent is due in five days, Liah, and I still have no idea where I’m supposed to mail the check. I could be losing my entire business in the next breath, if you really want to know.”

  Cami felt Liah’s arms wrap her in a hug. Afraid of falling apart altogether, she cringed, whispering, “I turned my mare out in the paddock to play, and she came in close to ruined. I never imagined anything like this would happen. I’m walking on eggshells, Liah, with no idea what might hit me next.”

  “Buckle up, buttercup,” Liah told her, holding her tight.

  Voice breaking, Cami squeaked, “I’m afraid, Liah, really and truly afraid. I’ve lost my horse, and in a week’s time, I might lose my income. Nex week, I might not have a barn, which means no lessons. I might be grateful to toil over creme brulee and pot de chocolat for Marcus’s Sauvignon guests.”

  “I told Marcus about Heavenly’s tendon. He’d loan you money in a heartbeat, you know, if that’s what you need, to, I don’t know, save the barn, or buy another horse, or. . whatever. He said so, told me to tell you.”

  To assuage his own guilt.

  But she couldn’t say that to her best friend, couldn’t even hint it.

  Liah just didn’t see Marcus that way, didn’t know how badly he’d hurt her, had no idea how angry Cami still was, about the humiliation of his wedding, so close on the heels of her crush on him, of the crazy, mind blowing sex they’d had. If Cami allowed herself to soften into the support her friend offered, gain even a tiny bit of respite from all the crazed panic she’d been feeling, she might just lose it. The floodgates would open, and she’d be blow sideways by the full force of her panic and despair.

  And anyway, Cami couldn’t afford a loan.

  She had no way to pay it back.

  There’s always pain au chocolat, peach galette, and sex.

  A split second vision of her own bare legs wrapping Marcus muscular back flashed in Cami’s mind’s eye.

  It mortified her.

  Still.

  She’d let him take her in the back of a test kitchen at Greystone, his fingers clutching her bare butt as he’d set her back against the stainless commercial refrigerator doors, so he could pound harder, go deeper, both of them moaning for each other, giving in to that thing between them. . that . . .

  She’d loved it.

  She had. That fact was basically indisputable, and it brought her no pride to admit.

  “I gotta get to the barn, Liah, take care of Heavenly’s tendon. It’s been four hours already. Maybe I’ll swing by for lunch later in the week. By then I’ll probably be ready to beg for that job,” Cami managed, stomach turning at the thought. “Please tell Marcus thanks for thinking of me.”

  “It’s gonna get better, honey. You’ll see. It has too,” Liah offered, squeezing Cami tight.

  “I don’t know how,” Cami acknowledged, dropping her face to hide the tears that were welling. “C’mon, Stump,” she ordered, holding the screen door. Her fat bull terrier waddled across the tile, then down the steps towards her sad-sack lime green VW beetle.

  Carrying her lunch and the bag full of fresh, sweet smelling saddle pads, Cami followed. This was just another day, and somehow, she’d get through it.

  Wellspring Willow Farms

  “I do know that you are worried. So, hot muscles, anonymous sex.”

  Three hours stall rest, ten minutes of cold water followed by a half hour’s walk, repeat, another three
hours stall rest. That had been Heavenly and Cami’s life for the past ten days. As the hose gushed cold water over her horse’s left front tendon, Cami didn’t dare cheer herself with the thought that the swelling in the bowed tendon really might be lessening.

  The barn’s green mini truck roared into the wide cobblestone aisle between neat rows of stall doors at the far end of the barn. Braking, Bianca took up a knife, cutting the cords of one of the big, fat bales of orchardgrass loaded in the back. “Hey, Cam! Did you hear about Fletcher Smith? He got dumped at the water obstacle on the intermediate level course Sunday. His horse was okay, but they carted him off in an ambulance. Mom said she heard that he’s broken his femur.”

  “Ugh, too bad. I guess that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about happening this summer,” Cami called back.

  “Yeah, a broken leg would suck, for sure,” Bianca agreed. Taking up three flakes in her sturdy arms, B swung the stall door open, then turned to the wash stall where Cami was hosing Heavenly. “Hey, how's that phone of yours? Any action on your Spindr account?”

  “Delete, delete, delete. There’s not one I’d waste a Saturday night on,” Cami told her, glaring.

  Bianca’s smile flashed. “What? Why not? C’mon, Cami, I’m counting on you for a diversionary dose of dating drama! It’ll be fun!”

  “Fun?” Cami asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “For whom?”

  B wasn’t letting up. “Heck, what else are you doing Saturday night? Your horse just jacked a tendon. You must be upset, feeling lonely.”

  “Do I know you?” Cami asked.

  “You do now!” Smiling, B grabbed another three flakes of hay and opened the next stall door, never missing a beat.

  Last October, Bianca had shown up driving a spiffy little BMW 321i, not new, but not old either. The little navy car had turned between Wellspring Willow Farm’s stone columns, creeping along the paved drive slowly, so as not to spook the horses. Finally, it had pulled up alongside the white-fenced ring where Cami had been schooling Heavenly.