by Elena Aitken
“It’s been a labor of love for sure, but totally worth it. Are you guys here for dinner?” She turned to Deanna. “You have to have the soup. It’s amazing.”
“It smells incredible.” Gwen sat down again. “Did you make it?”
“Ha. Thankfully, no. Ever since Archer left, I’ve been trying to figure out what to do. When we sent Archer to Panama, I thought he’d come back, ya know?”
Deanna nodded and they filled Gwen in with what happened to Archer. As a birthday present, all his friends had chipped in to buy him a backpack and a plane ticket to Panama for an adventure. Nobody really expected that he’d fall in love and stay—least of all Sam, by the sounds of it.
“So, who’s cooking now?” Deanna asked. “Because whoever it is, you need to keep them. At least you do if it tastes even half as good as it smells.”
Gwen nodded, her mouth watering for the spicy scents floating in the air. Whatever it was, it was a curry of some kind. She tried to mentally calculate whether she had enough calories left in her day for whatever deliciousness there was in the kitchen. Oh well, looked as though she’d be going for an even longer run in the morning.
“Let me tell you,” she said as she leaned over the table. “It pays to be sleeping with the owner of the Springs. I kind of hijacked his chef.”
“You have Jax back there?” Deanna spun in her seat to look toward the kitchen.
“No. Not really.” Sam turned to her. “You probably haven’t met him yet, but Jax is the internationally awesome chef up at the Springs. He’s way too good for this town. We’re just lucky he likes it here.”
“And he’s in love,” Deanna added.
“There’s that.” Sam laughed. “Trent suggested he come down here to help me out by showing me a few things.”
“You’re cooking?”
Sam laughed again, harder this time. “No way. I hired this college kid, Aaron, to do it. He’s home for the summer, so it’s not a permanent solution, but from what Jax says, he’s a quick learner and from what I can taste, I’d have to agree. Can I bring you both a bowl of soup? It’s a Thai coconut curry. So good. Really.”
Deanna looked over at Gwen, no doubt to assess whether Gwen would turn it down in favor of a salad. Most people who met her and heard her story assumed that she survived only on plain salads. That wasn’t true at all. Gwen loved good food, but she’d also learned the value of moderation. She’d never go back to the way she was, but she’d also never live a life of deprivation. “I would love a bowl of soup, Sam. And a vodka and soda to go with it.”
“That’s right,” Deanna chimed in. “We have to toast Gwen’s return. Took you long enough.” She winked at her friend.
“I needed to be ready. Besides, after Grandma died…there didn’t seem to be much reason.”
“We’re the reason,” Sam said. “We’ll always be the reason.”
*
“I thought you said I started tomorrow?” Chelsea moaned next to him as they walked down the street toward the Grizzly Paw.
After dropping off her bags and showing Chelsea the house, Ian turned right around to head back into town. It was time to introduce his sister to Sam and he was needed down at the marina anyway, so he could kill two birds with one stone. Everything was coming together quickly since he signed the papers on the Dockside. Maybe too quickly. Besides offering slips for boats and fueling facilities, he wanted to offer rentals of ski boats and jet skis and because he wanted to make sure the boats were ready for the start of the season, he’d made arrangements for them to be delivered in only a few weeks. That was the good news. The bad news was the contractor he’d hired to work on the docks had discovered more rot than they’d initially thought.
After inspecting them himself, Ian couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than a cold beer. And the sooner Chelsea got used to the idea of working at the Paw, the better.
“You aren’t starting till tomorrow, but it won’t hurt to get a feel for the place. Besides, I need a beer and there isn’t much in the way of food at the house right now, so we might as well grab some dinner.”
Chelsea sighed, but didn’t disagree any further. Ian didn’t have a lot of experience with young women, not beyond dating them when he himself was that age, but Chelsea did seem a little angstier than most. He risked another glance at her. She was a pretty girl. Or at least, she would be if it wasn’t for the scowl that had been on her face since the moment he’d met her. He didn’t take it personally, though. From what Declan said, her attitude had a whole lot more to do with their shared father than it did with anyone else, and for that, Ian couldn’t blame her.
“It’ll be good,” he said to her. “You’re going to like Sam and the Grizzly Paw.”
She shrugged, but didn’t protest any further as they made their way up the front stairs and in through the heavy wood doors.
Being that it was still spring, and the summer crowd hadn’t started making their way to Cedar Springs beyond a few weekends, the place wasn’t very busy, but there were a few tables of locals scattered about. He recognized about half of the faces. Either from the last few weeks of being back in town, or from when he was a kid. He scanned the room, looking for Sam, and found her behind the bar.
“There she is,” he said to Chelsea and started to walk toward the back of the room, assuming his sister would follow. He slid onto a stool and smiled broadly at Sam. They hadn’t known each other very well when they were kids, but she was part of the local crowd he’d hung out with, and their friendship had come back easily enough and grown some, too. Especially considering he’d bought the business next door.
“Hey, Ian. Good to see you. I noticed the work over at the marina. It’s coming along.”
He groaned. “You could say that. There are definitely bills coming along. Summer can’t get here soon enough, if you ask me.”
“I hear ya. I enjoy the shoulder season as much as anyone for a little break, but it’s definitely not good for business. I’m ready for the summer crowds.”
He nodded in agreement. “I thought I’d come in and introduce you to Chelsea and maybe grab something to eat while we were at it. Plus, I’m dying for a beer. It’s been one of those days.” He gestured next to him, where he assumed his little sister would be sitting, but the stool was empty. He spun around. She wasn’t there. His eyes did a quick search of the room. No Chelsea. “She must have run to the restroom,” he said to Sam in explanation. She better just be in the restroom, he thought to himself. She’d been with him for less than twenty-four hours and already he was regretting his decision to let her stay. “I’m sure she’ll be out soon.”
“I’m sure.” Sam smiled sympathetically. She knew a little bit about their history, and she was doing him a huge favor by hiring her. A favor Ian really hoped she wouldn’t regret. “Here.” She slid a pint of beer across the counter. “Wave me down when she comes back. I’m a little short-staffed tonight.”
Ian nodded in agreement and watched her run back into the kitchen before he turned to survey the room again. He took a closer look at the patrons occupying the tables. This time, as his gaze traveled over a small group tucked into a booth, he recognized Deanna Gordon, her boyfriend Marcus Stone, the professional snowboarder who thankfully didn’t hold it against him that he’d had a bit of history with Dee, and…the woman from the bus stop?
His breath caught in his throat and something tightened low in his gut as he caught sight of her dark hair. When she turned a little, he could make out her profile and yes, it was definitely the woman from the bus stop. He’d offended her somehow, probably by grabbing her bag the way he did without looking to be sure it was Chelsea’s bag he was reaching for. But he wasn’t glad he didn’t. There was something about her. And it wasn’t just her striking good looks. There was something else. He felt he should know her somehow. But surely he’d remember if he’d met her before. She was gorgeous.
He took a few sips of his beer, letting the cold liquid soothe the stress from earlier in
the day. He was half finished with his pint and Chelsea still hadn’t made an appearance.
It’s not like she could go far, he reasoned. She was probably just outside on the porch, taking advantage of the cell signal to communicate with whoever was on the other side of her phone.
A ring of laughter from the table where Deanna, Marcus, and the mystery woman were caught his attention. It’s not as though he could leave without Chelsea. He might as well make use of his time.
Ian stood, took another gulp of beer and crossed the room to introduce himself to the woman he couldn’t seem to look away from.
*
“Speak of the devil.”
Gwen swung around in her seat, knowing in an instant exactly who Deanna was talking about. She confirmed it for herself and turned back to her drink.
The first vodka and soda had left a warm feeling in her stomach, and just enough of a buzz for her to sip the second one much slower. A buzz she was grateful for now that Ian was in the same room.
What was it about him that turned her into a crazy person? She hadn’t behaved like a high school girl around a man since…well, since high school. And Ian McCormick.
“Who are we talking about?” Marcus, Deanna’s boyfriend, asked. He’d joined them halfway through the first drink and had missed all the details, which was probably a good thing. At least as far as Gwen was concerned. She was embarrassed enough about the way she’d crushed on him all those years ago. Now that she was a grown woman, she didn’t need her embarrassment rehashed. Especially considering he still didn’t seem to know she was alive.
“Ian McCormick,” Deanna filled him in. “Do you remember? He was at—”
“Slade and Beth’s wedding? Oh I remember.” Marcus grabbed his girlfriend’s hand. “I remember he was dancing with my girl.” He winked at Deanna. “Don’t worry.” Marcus laughed. “We’ve chatted a few times over the last few weeks. He’s a good guy. Did you know him, Gwen?”
“No,” she answered quickly. Deanna gave her a look, but she ignored it. She needed to start fresh this time around. And that meant no baggage in the form of Ian McCormick. “Not really.”
“Well, it looks like he’s coming over here.” Marcus gestured with his head and took a sip of his beer.
She only had a few moments to compose herself before Ian was standing next to them. His presence made her tremble involuntarily. She forced herself to take a breath and smile in his direction.
“Hi, Deanna.” He nodded at her. “Marcus.” Ian extended his hand and Marcus shook it.
“Good to see you, Ian. Have you met our friend, Gwen?”
Ian turned to look at her then. Really look at her. His eyes took her in. Surely he’d recognize her then? But there was nothing. No flicker of recognition. Nothing. Gwen swallowed hard. He really didn’t remember her. Pain, hurt, and a flash of anger flowed through her all in a split second.
“Oh,” Deanna said across the table. “You must remember—”
“No.” Gwen cut her off smoothly, as an idea formulated in her head. “I don’t think we’ve met before.” She gave him her most radiant smile. The one that she knew from recent experience men couldn’t resist. “I’m sure I would remember meeting you.” She held out her hand.
“The feeling is mutual.” Ian took her hand softly in his and squeezed it. For a moment, she thought he might bend and kiss it. But no, they weren’t in some old Western romance movie. “I would absolutely remember meeting someone as beautiful as you,” he said. It would have sounded like a line coming from anybody else’s mouth, but from Ian, it sounded sincere. “My name is Ian McCormick. I’ve just moved back to town to open up the marina.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Ian.” Gwen avoided her friend’s gaze, but she couldn’t miss the half cough, half choking sound Deanna made. “Would you like to sit?”
“I really don’t want to intrude.”
He took a step back, but Gwen reached for him, her hand sliding around his wrist. It took all the willpower she had to keep from yanking him toward her. But no. If she was going to play this, she was going to play it for all it was worth. She squeezed his wrist just enough to be flirty. “You’re not intruding at all. Join us.”
Ian looked to the others. Marcus nodded with a shrug. Deanna opened her mouth to say something, but Gwen delivered a small kick to her friend’s shin to shut down whatever it was she was going to say. “Fine with me,” Deanna ended up saying.
“I think I have a few minutes.” Ian looked over his shoulder, checking the room for someone. “Thanks.”
She slid over in the booth to make room for him. But not too much room. His leg pressed up against hers; her body filled with warmth at his touch. It was ridiculous. She should not be feeling any of those feelings for Ian McCormick. Not after so much time. And especially not after he’d so clearly had no idea who she was. She’d all but thrown herself at him when they were teenagers. She should be over him.
But she wasn’t.
They sat, making conversation. Hearing all about his new marina project, the Dockside. Flirting didn’t come naturally to Gwen; it never had. Likely because she’d spent her formative flirting years overweight, awkward, and worst of all, with a complex about all of it. Now that she had the gift of time and distance from her past self, Gwen knew that she shouldn’t have hid herself away all those years ago. She’d ostracized herself. But she couldn’t go back in time. Especially with Ian.
The longer she listened to him, the more she could see that he was into her. He cocked his head when she spoke, tilted his body toward her and seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. Talking to him was easy. Really easy. Especially with Deanna and Marcus there to act as a buffer. As residents of Cedar Springs, they were both keenly interested in Ian’s new marina and it was easy to see why. Ever since the Springs had moved in, tourism had exploded in the area and the town was growing once again. That meant more patients for Deanna’s medical practice and a busier ski hill for Marcus up at Stone Summit, his twin brother Malcolm’s ski hill.
More than once, Ian tried to steer the conversation toward Gwen, but each time she deflected his questions. Not to be coy, but because as they chatted, an idea began to formulate in her head.
He doesn’t remember you.
He’s into you.
It was only natural that she quickly formed a correlation between those two facts. He didn’t remember her because he hadn’t noticed her back then. He was into her now because she was thin and gorgeous. No matter what her feelings for him had been once, that was unforgivable. Fundamentally, she was the same person as she was when she was fat. If she hadn’t been good enough for him then, that only meant that she was too good for him now. No matter how attracted to him she was. And she was.
He didn’t deserve her attention. That’s exactly what her readers would say.
In fact…
“Excuse me for a moment.” She slipped out of the booth, grabbed her purse and headed for the restroom. The minute she was in the stall, she pulled out her cell phone and logged into her blog. Just as she suspected, her readers had already begun to comment on the post she’d only published a few hours ago. And just as she’d hoped, they’d already started leaving their opinions.
“Tell him who you are and show him what he missed out on.”
“Don’t waste your breath. He’s not worth even a second of your time.”
“Give him another chance. Everyone made poor choices when they were teenagers.”
And then there was one comment that confirmed the idea she’d just had. “Have a little fun with him,” Shasta, a reader in Indiana, wrote. “If he doesn’t remember you, why not pretend to be interested in him and then hurt him the way he hurt you?”
*
Why not do just that? Except hurt him. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. But surely it would be okay to play a little game and see how far she could take it before he remembered her. If he would.
She could get away with it, too. Deanna hadn’t tol
d him who she was. Gwen opened a text message and quickly tapped Deanna a message. Don’t tell him who I am!!!
Three exclamation marks should do the trick.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she pulled up a new post screen on her blog app and started to write.
*
Dear Reader,
I’ve decided on a bit of a summer experiment. As women who have been challenged by our weight and our self-esteem, haven’t we all had that one man in our life who just didn’t notice us? The one we were madly in love with, but wouldn’t give us the time of day? The man who gave his attention freely to thin, beautiful women while we barely got a nod?
Yes.
We’ve all had that man at some point.
How often have you wished that “one day” you’d love to have the chance to show him just what he missed by overlooking you?
Well…I have that chance.
Mr. Summer is here in my summer town, just like the old days. And, if you read my previous post, he doesn’t remember me. However, based on the last few hours, I think it’s fair to say that while Gigi wasn’t good enough for him, Gwen most certainly is.
So…my summer experiment will be to test the theory that for some men…beauty really is only skin deep.
Stay tuned…
*
Satisfied, Gwen did a quick proofread and hit the Post button, effectively sending her post out into cyberspace. She tucked her phone away into her purse. Her readers were going to love it. And she was definitely going to have some fun.
*
“Tell me about Gwen,” Ian asked as soon as she excused herself. “Is she a new friend?”
“Gwen?” Marcus looked at his girlfriend, but she shook her head.
“She’s an old friend,” was all she offered for information. Of course, she wouldn’t say much. Once upon a time, he had a little thing with Deanna. It was a very little thing and they’d both agreed to be friends after, but maybe there were still some lingering feelings or some sort of girl code or something that said they couldn’t or wouldn’t date the same guy. Not that it should count. That was at least ten years ago. Maybe more. If he based all his life decisions on the choices he’d made as a teenager, he’d be in a very sorry state.