by Jen Peters
“Hey, want to climb up there?” Ree pointed to a large log spanning the creek.
Mitch looked at it dubiously. The creek tumbled over the rocks beneath. “Are you sure? It’s going to be slippery.”
“It’s wide, and we can go slow. Come on!" She took his hand and led him up to the base. She clambered up quickly. He chose his foot placement carefully, reaching for a protruding branch for support.
On top, he found she was right—it was wide. He didn’t have to do anything special to balance, just stand there. He took a few steps toward the middle of the span, braced his legs, and looked at the creek.
The water splashed and sprayed along multicolored rocks, misting his face. He watched the water swirl around a boulder and create an eddy where leaves and twigs collected. The park he ran in was nice, but nothing as breathtaking as this.
Ree walked lightly across to the other side and back again. He shook his head at her questioning look and climbed down, offering her his hand when he was settled. She hesitated, but took it and hopped to the humus-covered ground.
They continued on the path, still holding hands. He was surprised at how intimate such a casual gesture could feel. Her hand was soft and warm in his. Delicate, although he suspected she was anything but delicate. She was tough inside, unafraid of what the world might offer, determined to go after what she wanted. Except possibly when it came to her mother.
They walked farther along the path, finally coming to a small pool, muddy on one side but lined with gravel and boulders on the other. He dipped his hand in. “I think this is it.”
“Warm Springs,” Ree murmured. “I haven’t been here in years.”
Mitch grinned. “What, you never had a boyfriend who brought you up to the local make-out place?”
“Actually, that was the Lookout where we saw the hawk, and yeah, I might have spent an evening or two up there. A bunch of us came up here to Warm Springs my freshman year and, um, found a bunch of people nude. Total shock for fourteen-year-olds! We sort of stayed away after that. And the Lookout was easier to get to and seemed just as far from home.”
They perched on boulders, dangling their legs in the warm water. It wasn’t hot-tub temperature, but he could easily take a long soak here.
They sat quietly, a comfortable silence that didn’t need to be filled. A nice change from Portland business, Mitch thought. And a nice change from Melanie, too. So much of Ree was nicer than Melanie.
A noise in the trees made him pull his legs out quickly. He whipped around, but nothing was there—only the crashing sounds an animal would make as it dashed through the underbrush.
“Probably a deer,” Ree said. “We were quiet enough, but the movement probably scared her off.”
Just a deer. Of course. Not like it was a bear or anything. “Uh, do you get any other wildlife around?”
Ree shrugged. “Raccoons and squirrels obviously. Coyotes sometimes. The wolves are long gone, but…” Her mouth quirked up. “Besides the nudists, it may or may not have been reports of a bear that had us hanging out at the Lookout instead of here.”
Mitch didn’t relax. “Bears, huh? A real incident or just parents’ scary stories?”
“Oh they’re around. But now that I’m older, I realize they’re not going to just come up and attack you.”
He sat back down, stuck his now-dirty feet back in the water, and relaxed. Mostly.
They chatted about inconsequential things. He liked indie films, she liked rom-coms, and they both loved Avengers movies. She liked country music, and he’d listen to about anything except rap. Comfortable camaraderie, Mitch thought, plus a large portion of attraction.
He finally stood. “We’d better get going if I’m going to get back to Portland tonight.” He pulled Ree up, they slid damp feet into sun-warmed shoes, and set off down the trail.
They walked closely, bumping shoulders sometimes for fun. Again, he marveled at the feel of her hand in his. The smell of her shampoo suddenly filled him, driving out the forest scents. He longed to bend down and bury his face in her hair.
She looked up at him, smiled, and started humming a jaunty tune.
A warmth grew inside him. Happiness, contentment, joy…something. He was going to kiss her sometime. Not today, but sometime soon.
Chapter 10
Ree curled up in a blue wing chair in the parlor at the McCormick Inn, her computer in her lap while she waited for a furniture delivery. The browser was open to research for a paper on Cross-Cultural Marketing, but her mind kept wandering. When would Mitch come back? McCormick’s Creek seemed even smaller with him gone, but he never said when he was coming, he just showed up.
But when he did, oh how her heart warmed. There wasn’t truly anything between them, but the signs were there. He was the one taking her hand. He was the one suggesting outings. And he was interested in her—her as a person, not a conquest.
For herself, Ree felt like a high schooler with a crush, despite her early resolutions. He was a good boss, helpful but not hovering, but she was more intrigued by how she felt around him. Her pulse pounded, her stomach fluttered, and she could feel her face light up when she saw him. He smelled oh-so-good when he leaned close over her shoulder to look at her paperwork. And she felt like she was someone important when she was with him.
She really didn’t know much about him, though. Did he have a cat? A dog? Somehow she didn’t think he was that fond of animals. Did he have a girlfriend? Or maybe he was married!
Her body tightened at the thought. Stupid, she scolded herself. Even if he was much more honorable than the detestable Luc, she needed to know more about him.
Ree opened a new tab in her browser and began typing Mitch’s name, but closed the laptop when a truck drove in.
Thirty minutes later, the wicker furniture was unloaded, unpacked, and arranged nicely on the porch. She was taking the last of the packing material to the dumpster in back when her phone buzzed—Mom at the shop.
“Ree? I could use some help down here.”
“I’m kind of busy, Mom.” She awkwardly heaved the cardboard up and in one-handed.
“I really need you now, Ree. I’ve got a customer waiting for an arrangement and another who wants to pick one up in an hour.”
Ree sighed. “I’ll be right there.”
She worked through the afternoon, squeezing research in when she could, but mostly helping customers and creating bouquets. And watching her mom.
The cheerful, determined mother she knew seemed absent. Instead, Mom spent a lot of time staring off into space, or dusting things that didn’t need dusting, or rearranging sale items that had just been arranged the day before. And rubbing her injured hand, lost in thought.
Ree needed to talk to her about it, make sure she was doing her exercises, but there was no time. Closing time rolled around while Ree was still working on a late order, and then she had to cram on her paper.
She snatched a sandwich for dinner, still researching, and managed to save and send her assignment at 11:59—a whole minute to spare. Bone-tired, she flopped back on the bed to rest for a moment before clearing things up.
And woke up at four in the morning, still fully clothed and fuzzy-mouthed.
She put the computer on her desk, crawled into bed for some decent sleep, and started the busy-ness all over again at eight. She didn’t have time for mooning over someone, even someone as charming and delicious to look at as Mitch. Any background research on him would have to wait.
* * *
A string quartet played at one end of the Black & White Gala ballroom, while the Tiffany’s House banner covered the opposite wall. Mitch smiled as he handed his ticket to the usher. He may not be thrilled with over-the-top social events right now, but Tiffany’s House helped teenage moms stay in school and was worth whatever it took. How could these girls make a life if they didn’t get an education?
He talked to Judd, whose white dinner jacket looked like a lighthouse in a sea of black, and danced with a few soci
al dowagers before wandering over to the raffle basket. He didn’t look closely at what it included, other than noticing some envelopes sticking up from the soaps and whatnot, but he bought a string of tickets and scrawled his name across them.
“Good to see you, Mitch,” a senior partner at the firm said, slapping him on the back. “Great job with the Silva case.”
“Thanks, it came together right at the end.”
“Hah!” came the reply. “Only because of your magic touch.”
Mitch shifted his weight, uncomfortable with the comment. If they saw him as having a magic touch, would he ever be able to change his career course?
He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and glanced around the room. He really ought to talk to the organizers and Senator Hernandez at least. And Granddad would expect him to say hello to Judge Miller.
George Cushman from Jaeger & Cushman approached, a large drink in hand. “I hear you’re coming up for partner soon, Mitch.”
“I don’t know about that, sir.”
“Oh yes, heard it from the best sources. But you know…” the man leaned close and dropped his voice, “sometimes being in a family firm isn’t the best. People expect you to be a certain way just because of your name. If you ever want a change, we’d be glad to take you on with us. At a substantial increase in salary, of course.”
Mitch worked to keep his face passive. Of all the changes he’d considered, leaving the firm wasn’t one of them. How could he? It was true that he was sometimes judged for his family connections, but he was more concerned about being pigeon-holed in his choices, like an actor who is forever cast as a villain.
“Thank you, Mr. Cushman, you’re very kind. But I’m quite happy where I am.”
“I thought you probably were,” the man said cheerily, “but it never hurts to put the idea out there.”
Mitch nodded as Mrs. Kennedy asked him to dance. She was well over 50, quite plump, and wearing a backless dress that made him wonder where to put his hand.
He schmoozed with fellow attorneys, made small talk with the judge and the senator, and danced with three ladies on the prowl, all dressed in glittering silver or black. When the last song finished, he made his excuses and headed for the silent auction tables.
Artwork, jewelry, gift certificates…he just couldn’t concentrate on them. His mind kept flitting back to McCormick’s Creek and people who seemed a lot more down to earth. Honestly, one particular person who was more down to earth and real than any of the women at the Gala.
He was lost in thought when Judd came up beside him. “Come on, Mitch. You know you want it.”
“Huh?” He looked at the display poster in front of him—Cinderella’s castle with Mickey, Minnie, and Donald, plus a few princesses he couldn’t name, in the foreground. What in the world would he do with a trip to Disneyland?
Judd shouldered him lightly and chortled. “Hey, Mitch, haven’t you just been dying to go see Donald Duck?”
Mitch snorted. Not likely. On the other hand, he knew someone who would love it: Austin, the nine-year-old son of a single-parent secretary. He looked at the bids on the auction sheet and wrote a much higher number, imagining the look on Austin’s face if he managed to win.
“Disneyland? Haven’t you outgrown that yet?” came Melanie’s sultry voice.
Mitch glanced over his shoulder at her. “Never. You’re saying that you’re too stuffy for Mickey?”
She hung her hand on his shoulder with a proprietary air. “Not if I’m with you, Mitch.”
“Oh, brother,” Judd said, leaving quickly.
Mitch moved out from under her hand and down the line of auction items, pausing before a piece of art and trying to ignore Melanie. Would Ree like the painting? He realized he didn’t know her tastes well enough to tell.
“Oh, what an exquisite diamond anklet,” a woman said loudly. “That would make quite a gift for someone special.”
Melanie squeezed his arm. “It would certainly make a statement. And look,” she said, “a trip to Hawaii.”
“That would make the neighbors talk, wouldn’t it, Mel?” a passing acquaintance said.
“Gifts don’t have to be outrageous,” Mitch murmured.
“Oh, but what’s the point in them, then?” the acquaintance laughed.
Mitch ran a hand through his hair and grit his teeth. His gaze passed over the next two prizes, but came to a stop on a gift basket from The Roastery. It overflowed with all sorts of locally roasted samples and exotic blends, plus chocolate, a small cake, and a pair of coffee mugs.
Just the thing to share with Ree.
He scribbled his name and a ridiculously high figure—Ree would be as excited about him winning it in an auction as the coffee basket itself.
“An evening for two?” Melanie whispered in his ear. “How delightful.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then took her gently by the elbow. “Let’s step outside for a moment.”
One corner of her mouth lifted. “Feeling a bit warm, Mitch?”
“Something like that.”
He nodded to Judd as they passed, then opened the door to the night air. It wasn’t particularly cool, even at nearly midnight, but at least it wasn’t as stuffy as inside. He was going to need all the oxygen he could get.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Melanie had her arms around his neck and was closing for a kiss. Mitch reached back and unclasped her arms. “That’s not what we’re out here for. Just the opposite, in fact.”
Her eyes narrowed. “The opposite?”
“You know we’ve had some nice evenings together, Mel,” he began. “You’re a delightful dinner companion when you want to be. But it was never going to be anything permanent, not even anything long term. And you knew that.”
“No. I didn’t,” she countered, her courtroom voice coming out. “You took me on quite a few dates, and while they never went further, you never said that was all there would be.”
Was she right? Had he been unclear? Unfair? “I’m sorry if that’s true. But either way, I’m making it clear now. There will be no more dinners at Primavera, no trips to Italian film festivals or elsewhere, no intimate evenings with any exotic coffees I might win. I can’t be more clear than that.”
She looked up at him and smirked lightly. “Not even Disneyland? A chance to let your hair down?”
“That wasn’t for me." He waited.
Various expressions played across Melanie’s face, fascinating and intimidating at the same time, before she inhaled deeply. “All right then. I can accept defeat gracefully. But don’t be surprised if I file an appeal.”
Mitch refrained from rolling his eyes. “Come on, let’s go inside and you can dance with Judd.”
He held out his arm and she took it, quite serenely, he thought. Perhaps he had been unfair thinking that she’d create an unpleasant scene.
“One more dance?” she said.
“Sure.” He swept her into his arms and they moved across the floor, her steps as graceful as ever.
When the music ended, the guest speaker was announced. Melanie started toward the seating area, but Mitch shook his head. “I’ve had enough tonight. I’m heading home.”
Melanie kissed him on the cheek—he was sure she’d left her lipstick clearly imprinted on his skin—and waggled her fingers at him. “See you around.”
He headed out with a smile. She had taken it all better than he’d expected.
Chapter 11
Mitch slept late Sunday morning, grateful to have ended any might-have-beens with Melanie so smoothly, but he still felt unsettled when he thought about his next consult with Mr. Bidwell Monday morning. He finally flipped the duvet back, downed some more antacids, and took off for McCormick’s Creek.
The drive didn’t help, though. His thoughts stewed and stormed, and by the time he got off I-5 and headed up the highway, his mind was filled with the families whose companies had been taken over. He had tried not to keep track of them, but he
knew that two were struggling to start new businesses and one had had to sell their big house and move into a 1950s cottage. Only one couple had come out with enough to retire closer to where their children lived.
The turnoff to McCormick’s Creek came at last. Just the thought of the town relaxed him, made him feel like there were good people out there living good lives.
Ree was sitting in new wicker furniture when he parked. It looked good, but she looked even better, and his heart lifted a bit.
"Do you mind if I join you?" He pulled out the other chair on the porch and sank into its cushion, thoughts of Bidwell and his ilk still lingering.
“Long drive?" she asked with a warm smile, ruffling her papers with her finger.
He shrugged. He’d rather just sit listening to the breeze through the pine needles. The fresh air filled his senses, as did the faint scent of her perfume. Or maybe it was just her shampoo.
“What's up?" she asked.
He didn’t answer, just looked out at the road. A group of teenagers on bikes and skateboards were shouting to each other, oblivious to all the bad things that could go on in the world.
“Earth to Mitch,” Ree broke in, waving her hand in front of his eyes.
“What? Sorry.”
“So what brought you down today? I thought you weren’t coming until next weekend.”
He met her eyes briefly. He could lose himself in them, just soaking up her lack of worldliness. “Just wanted to check up on things.”
She gave a slight smile. “You can check up on things from Portland, and I’ll bet you even have assistants to make phone calls for you.” She paused. “What kind of a lawyer are you, anyway? Do you put bad guys away?”
He snorted. “Hardly. I’m in Mergers and Acquisitions. We are the bad guys." He caught his breath at his words. He didn’t usually lose control like this. “Excuse me, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s been a rough week. ”
Ree watched him. “What’s mergers and acquisitions anyway?”