Читать книгу A Great Kisser - Donna Kauffman - Страница 10

“Okay. Sitting in your room is no longer an option.” Lauren fiddled with her cell phone but didn’t press the CALL button. The button that would dial her mother’s number. She’d been in Cedar Springs for exactly one hour. She was unpacked, showered, and changed, makeup and hair mercifully repaired. All she had to do now was make the call.

Her mother knew she was here. At least, Lauren had to suspect she knew. She hadn’t thought to ask her friendly neighborhood pilot if he’d planned on letting her mother know he’d gotten her safely to town. But then, she hadn’t thought to ask the man his name, either. Who did that? Who drove with a complete stranger for more than two hours, chatted with him—agreed to see him again—and even went so far as to share her deep, dark, job-quitting secret…and didn’t get his name?

She couldn’t even blame the rocky commuter flight and subsequent storm for scattering her brain. Not really. She might blame Hunky Local Pilot for discombobulating her a little. Okay, a lot. He’d been all rugged good looks and enigmatic personality back in the airport hangar. But once they’d started talking, she’d been surprised at how laid back and easy-going he was. He’d made her forget she looked like airport roadkill, and even took her mind off her immediate future for an hour or two.

Well, she knew Hunky Pilot Guy’s name now. There had been a copy of the local phone book in the nightstand drawer by her bed. She’d simply looked up flight schools in the slim Yellow Pages section. There had only been one listed. McKenna’s Flight School. Owned and operated by Jake McKenna, or so the modest ad proclaimed.

Jake. It suited him. He might not have been a traditional western cowboy, with boots and spurs and tobacco in his back pocket, but he definitely filled the bill for mountain man outdoorsy type. He fit here, among the soaring peaks and beautiful high meadows. And he raced airplanes. How sexy was that?

“Too damn sexy,” she muttered. And she had no real business getting involved with him, in any way. Not that being asked out on a short plane ride around the area was getting overly involved, but it was prolonging their acquaintance. She wasn’t sure what, if anything, he had in mind. She assumed, given her bedraggled appearance, and the fact that she hadn’t exactly employed the most scintillating conversational skills, that he was still doing a favor for her mother. And, possibly, the mayor. She hadn’t missed the fact that he’d politely refrained from saying anything directly about Arlen. He’d claimed he wasn’t close to her mother, but that didn’t mean anything where the mayor was concerned.

Regardless of why he was asking, or if anyone had put him up to it, Jake struck her as being one of the Good Guys. He might look and sound like a Bad Boy, all crinkling eyes and crooked grins, enough to make her pulse do a little tap dance more than once…and, yes, that might have had a tiny bit to do with why she’d accepted his offer. But the offer itself, she was pretty sure, had been issued by the Good Guy, not the Bad Boy.

Which was for the best, really. “Very really,” she warned her pouting reflection. She looked away from the mirror as her thoughts turned further inward. Her entire life was upside down at the moment. She, who had always had a Life Plan, a list of goals, and a pretty good idea about how she was going to go about achieving them—usually successfully, mind you, because that was the Matthews-O’Grady way—was currently floundering. No job, no prospects, no real idea of what she wanted to do with herself. All she’d known was that she was done in Washington. And that she couldn’t figure out what came next while she was still putting in grueling eighteen-hour days with no time to think.

The other thing she’d known was that she hated what had happened between her and her mother. And Lauren had figured that was something she could do something about. At the very least, she needed to make peace with her mother. At best, she hoped to get her normally levelheaded, responsible, and very smart mother to open her eyes and see that maybe she’d had some sort of mini–life crisis or something, but that making a mistake didn’t mean she was doomed to live with it forever.

Perhaps they would both figure out what came next, together.

“Yep. That’s the better plan. Flirting with Sexy Airplane Racer Man…out. Making up with Mom and charting my new future…in.” She stared at her cell phone. And still didn’t push the button. Because pushing that button didn’t just mean reuniting with her mother, it also meant meeting her new stepfather. Gah. She couldn’t even think of him like that. Hell, she couldn’t think of him at all. He was a complete stranger to her. Well, maybe not a complete stranger. She’d done a little—okay, a lot—of digging into his political and personal background over the past six months, which hadn’t exactly left her feeling optimistic that her opinion of him was going to miraculously change upon meeting him.

The fact that her mother had refused to even talk to her about any potential problem with her new spouse was what had alarmed Lauren the most. Her mother was not the run-off-to-Vegas type. Far, far from it. But she had. And with a man she’d only just met. Of course her only daughter was going to be concerned, was going to ask questions.

But instead of that leading to any answers, it had led to a stubborn refusal to even consider that anything might be amiss in her happily-ever-after fairy tale. Lauren realized now she should have flown out here immediately, but, as her mother had pointed out, she was a grown woman and fully capable of making up her own mind. And things had deteriorated by then to a point where Lauren felt perhaps a cooling off period would do them both some good.

Well, cooling off time was officially over. Nothing had changed, and nothing was going to change unless she personally did something to change it. She’d done a lot of soul searching. About her job, about her once-close relationship with her mother, her goals, what her role was, both in her own life and in her mother’s. Which had, at length, led her to quit her job and book a flight west. She’d figure the rest out. Eventually.

But she couldn’t do any of that sitting on a bed in her motel room.

Her finger was hovering over the speed dial button to her mother’s cell phone, when a rap on the door made her jump. In her e-mail exchange with Arlen’s office, prior to coming out, she hadn’t mentioned where she’d booked a room, just that she would be booking one. All she’d gotten in return was the note from Arlen’s assistant saying they’d be unable to come pick her up but were looking forward to seeing her. Which she took to mean that they’d be waiting for her to make the first move upon arriving. So…who knew she was here, besides—“Jake?”

She might have hopped up off the bed a little too enthusiastically, but she didn’t let herself think about that as she took a moment to check herself out in the vanity mirror before answering the door. Not her most excellent, but definitely an improvement over the last time he’d seen her.

So much for her grand plan to avoid meaningless flirtations.

She’d originally thought to stay in the resort hotel, but given her employment situation, despite the healthy nest egg she had squirreled away, that didn’t seem like a wise move. So, she had to squint a little to look out of the tiny peephole, the glare of the late afternoon sun behind her visitor’s back further stunting her view. But she could see well enough that her smile immediately fell. Not Jake. In fact, she had no idea who the woman was standing on the other side of her door. “Can I help you?” she asked without opening the door.

“It’s Melissa, with a message from the mayor’s office.”

She recognized the name as the secretary who’d sent her the e-mail. She unlocked and opened the door. “Hello.”

Melissa was a tall brunette, more wiry than slender, though she was that, too. Lauren had noticed that about a lot of the women she’d seen as they’d rolled into town earlier. Must be good mountain living, she thought. They all looked like distance athletes, with tanned skin and ready smiles. Melissa was no exception.

“Hi, I’m Arlen’s personal secretary. We communicated a few days ago?”

“We did. Thanks for the note.”

“The mayor and your mother both felt terrible about not being able to come pick you up themselves, but were hoping you wouldn’t mind the short flight over with Jake.”

Her smile was friendly, but Lauren wondered if, by mentioning him by name, she was putting out feelers to see what the new girl thought about the hunky local pilot. Probably a bit paranoid on Lauren’s part, but she had no idea where Jake fit into the small-town-bachelor hierarchy. Or who it might piss off if it were discovered that he’d asked her out.

Okay, so it wasn’t a date. It was more like a…tour. Still, it could be misinterpreted…even by the one invited to go on the tour. She didn’t think she was reaching all that far.

“So…it was okay?” Melissa said.

Realizing she was standing in the open door, fantasizing about Jake McKenna when she should be worried about saying the right thing to Arlen’s secretary, had her snapping to attention. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little fatigued—long day.” She didn’t bother to tell her about the storm or the truck ride she’d ended up with versus the intended short plane ride. “I appreciated the gesture, though. How did you know where I was staying?”

“I contacted Jake. I hope you don’t mind. He wasn’t exactly forthcoming, but—”

“It’s okay,” Lauren said, not wanting to make this whole thing any more dramatic than necessary. But the little warm spot for Jake grew a bit larger. He’d protected her…or tried, at least. That earned a few extra points. “I was just about to contact them, in fact, when you knocked.”

Melissa leaned down and lifted a basket that Lauren hadn’t noticed was sitting by her feet. “They are still tied up at the charity function. There was an auction afterward and it’s dragging on quite a bit longer than expected. So, Arlen asked that I deliver this to you. And your mom asked me to tell you that she was very happy you had arrived and is looking forward to seeing you. They are hoping you’ll join them for dinner this evening at the Ragland Gap Steakhouse.”

Lauren wondered what Melissa must be thinking about a family who used a secretary to deliver personal messages between its intimate members, but it was more than she could worry about at the moment. She took the basket, which was filled with all kinds of goodies: fruit, food, coffee mug, and even some wild flowers.

“It’s kind of a welcome to Cedar Springs. Lots of local products, a little taste of our mountain town.”

She was so darn cheerful, it was hard not to like her. In fact, the few people Lauren had actually met since hitting eight thousand plus feet had all been the same. Sunny, warm, sincerely nice, and always helpful. Definitely not typical of her experience living in D.C. Must be the thin air.

“Thank you,” she said, and meant it. She had no idea yet, what the dynamic would be between her and Arlen, or even with her mother, much less with the two of them together as a couple, but that wasn’t Melissa’s problem. “I appreciate it, and appreciate you taking time from your schedule to deliver it personally.”

“No problem. It got me out of listening to the mayor’s luncheon speech.” She leaned a little closer and in a more conspiratorial but still cheerful tone, added, “Which, frankly, doesn’t change much, event to event. Neither does the food.”

“I guess Chamber of Commerce luncheons are the same across the country,” Lauren said. “More than once I swore that if I never saw another over-seasoned chicken breast and limp piece of broccoli, I’d die a happy woman.”

Melissa laughed. “Exactly! And I only have to do them a few times a year. You must do them weekly, working for the senator.”

Lauren’s smile tightened slightly. “One of the perks of the job.”

“Well, we’re all happy you’re in town.”

“All?”

“Oh, don’t look alarmed or anything. Cedar Springs is small, so we’re tight knit. It was pretty big news when the mayor came back from the national mayor’s conference in Florida with a new wife! I mean, you can imagine, right? So we were happy to hear you were finally coming to pay us a visit.”

“So…the whole town knows I’m here?”

“Well…yes,” Melissa said, but again, with such cheerful goodwill, as if it were impossible for her to comprehend why that could possibly be a bad thing, or even a disconcerting thing, it was hard to hold it against her. “But, don’t worry, we may be like one big family, but we’re an easy family to get to know, and we always welcome new members with open arms.”

Lauren was beginning to miss D.C., where no one spoke to anyone they didn’t have reason to, and were generally so distracted by whatever they were doing that they paid no attention to anyone else unless it involved cutting them off on the beltway. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

“So, will dinner work? I’m sorry, it’s been great getting the chance to meet you, but I need to get back. If you’d rather just call—but they won’t be out of there for at least another hour or so. There were several speeches, with a question-and-answer session that ran really long, then the local schoolchildren were putting on some kind of little production, then the auction, so it’s just a never-ending thing, it seems.”

“Dinner is fine.”

She beamed. “Great. Seven at Ragland’s. Enjoy your afternoon!”

Melissa waved and was gone, her long strides carrying her quickly across the parking lot before Lauren thought to ask what the dress code was for the steakhouse. She supposed she could just call the desk and ask. One bonus to being in a small town, everyone would probably know all the local establishments.

She closed the door and leaned against it. Still, it was more than just a little disconcerting, realizing that the whole town knew she was here. And she had a feeling that wasn’t an exaggeration. The woman who’d checked her in had commented on it, as well. But Lauren had just assumed she’d made the connection from getting Lauren’s information while taking the reservation.

Lauren set the basket on the small dresser, then sank down on the edge of the bed. So. She no longer had to make the call. That, at least, was a relief. But now she had a few hours to kill. She thought about wandering around the town a little, getting to see it through her own eyes first, but now there was this feeling that everyone would be watching her, talking. About what, she didn’t know, but still.

Between reconciling things with her mom, and reconciling herself with her unplanned future, she had enough to deal with without wondering what every person who said hello to her might be thinking. She had no idea what the townspeople knew or didn’t know, and was having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that anyone other than her mother and herself might care.

She knew what it was like to live under a microscope, at least in political circles, due to her job. But even then, she was an adjunct to that life. The senator was the one being personally examined. She was just the person in charge of mitigating the effects of it as much as possible.

Restless and unable to think clearly, she got up and rummaged through the basket, finally settling on a little pouch of organic, locally made granola. Crunching on fruits and nuts didn’t help much with the thinking process, but it did give her the impetus to get the heck out of her room. She should go rent a car. That was something to do. She wasn’t sure how long she was going to stay, but even a day or two required transportation. And she wanted to make sure she had that taken care of before meeting up with her mother and Arlen. She didn’t want to run any risk of being dependent on them to get wherever she might want to go.

She started to get the Yellow Pages out again, but decided what she really needed was to get out of the room. Fresh air, even of the thin variety, would be very welcome. Taking the bag of granola and her purse, she left her room and stopped by the front office to ask where she could rent a car. The rain had stopped and the storm clouds had fully moved out of the area. The sky was a deep blue streaked with the palest streams of gold and pink as the sun began its slow, late-summer descent. She loved this time of day. When she’d had time to notice it, anyway. The difference was, out here, the sky seemed endless, and the only thing obstructing her view from seeing forever were the jagged mountain peaks that surrounded her no matter what direction she looked.

Jake was right, they truly were magnificent. And to think, she was already at eight thousand plus feet, and they still soared so much higher. She was thinking about what he said, about being both humbled and inspired by them, and could see where he was coming from. She pushed open the door to the registration desk area and found herself wondering where his flight school was. Right at that moment, he was pretty much the only thing that felt grounded, which…how ironic was that?

The desk registrar’s name was Debbie, according to her nametag, and was the same person who had checked her in. She was older than Lauren by a decade. Or two. Hard to tell with the Olympian genes these people all seemed to have. Her hair was cropped short, streaked with blond highlights that Lauren was pretty sure she hadn’t had to pay for. In her deep blue polo shirt and khaki pants motel uniform, she looked more like a golf pro than a motel manager. She was average height, which meant she still had a handful of inches over Lauren, and greeted her with a sunny, toothy smile. “Good afternoon, Miss Matthews. Settling in okay? What can I do for you?”

What were these people on? And where could she get some?

Lauren wondered if Debbie was the owner’s daughter or sister. And if the other two were as naturally caffeinated as Debbie, here. Even with her growing dissatisfaction with her career choice, Lauren had prided herself on maintaining an upbeat, optimistic attitude despite living in a town, and working in a field, that prided itself on grinding the optimism out of a person as early in as possible. But out here, she felt downright crotchety and grinch-like. Apparently she’d been assimilated into her old life more deeply than even she’d realized.

“I was thinking about renting a car.”

“Oh, you don’t really need one if you’re planning to stay in town. We have a free bus system that runs here and out to the resort village. You might enjoy renting a bike, though. That’s how most folks get around.” She smiled. “Until the snow starts falling, anyway, but that’s a few months off yet. Between the bike and the bus, you’d be all set. There’s a rack on the front of every bus to put your bike in, if you get somewhere you don’t feel like peddling back. And it’ll save you some money, too,” she added cheerfully.

Lauren paused a moment, wondering if—no, there was no way anyone could know about her job. She was being a little too paranoid. Besides, Jake was the only one she’d told—stupidly, now, she supposed—but Arlen’s secretary, Melissa, had said he wasn’t wanting to be all that chatty about where he’d dropped her off, which Lauren appreciated. So she would guess he hadn’t been in a gossiping mood, either. She hoped. Her sudden lack of both a career and steady income was definitely news she needed to spring herself.

“I’ll think about that. But, just in case, where would I rent a car?”

“Well, back at the local airport in Holden is your best bet, but sometimes the resorts will have them brought out and delivered for you. Usually, that’s more a seasonal thing, but I’d be happy to ring over there.”

“Isn’t that more of a service for their guests?” She should have held her ground and gotten a car before leaving the airport.

“Normally, yes, but I’m sure when I tell them you’re the mayor’s daughter—”

It was on the tip of Lauren’s tongue to correct her and say “stepdaughter.” But even that left a sour taste in her mouth. And now that she’d been clued in to her quasi-celebrity status in town, the less fodder she provided the better. “That’s okay,” she interrupted. “Truly. I’m—going to think about it. I appreciate your help.”

“I’m sure the mayor would be happy to take care of it for you. I can just ring Melissa, or Ruby Jean and—”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Debbie a question or twelve about her thoughts on the mayor, but now was not the time. Somehow she didn’t think Debbie was as stalwart as Jake when it came to being discreet. Which, admittedly, would be to her advantage in getting some answers, but not so much in keeping Debbie from telling everyone else that Lauren had some questions. “I think I’m just going to set out on foot and see the sights for a bit.”

Debbie waved her a cheery good-bye and, once on the sidewalk, Lauren turned and headed into town. Her motel was at the near end of Main Street as you entered Cedar Springs from the highway—if you could call the little two-lane road that. The resort was on the opposite end of town, and even now, in the summer, you could see the trails cut through the soaring pines, all over Mount Wisternan, the massive monolith that served as a spectacular backdrop to the entire village. She’d skied a few times, but only on the East Coast. She tried to imagine the pine green mountain, and the picture postcard town, buried in snow.

One thing was certain to be true, and that was that every person in Cedar Springs probably looked adorable in their brightly colored fleeces and snow gear.

One of the things she’d argued about with her mother, who’d retired and moved from Richmond, Virginia, to sunny Coral Gables, Florida, eighteen months earlier, was having to abruptly adjust to life in a place where it snowed at least seven months out of every twelve. The average snowfall of Cedar Springs was over a hundred feet each winter. Average. Being raised in the mid-Atlantic, where it occasionally snowed, sometimes even several feet…she still couldn’t really even imagine a hundred of them.

Her mother had laughingly responded that she’d moved to Colorado, not Siberia. And she’d moved here in February, so it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen the snow yet. Which, fine. Except her mother had been thriving since the move to a sunnier, consistently warmer climate. She’d bought a little place of her own in a great, waterfront retirement community that Lauren had privately dubbed Camp Seniors. But, kidding aside, it had seemed like a wonderful place to live.

Charlene had been active in several clubs, did volunteer work for a couple of charities, as well as a few other local organizations—and that was a very reduced pace of life for a woman who had been the toast of the hostess circuit in the society and professional realms in the capital city of Richmond. She had gushed to her daughter about all the new friends she was making, while still finding it relatively simple to keep up with many of her old ones, a great number of whom spent time in Florida, as well.

And almost all of whom had also expressed shock over her sudden elopement and subsequent move west.

Charlene had been so happy, so relaxed, so involved. Her friends, new and old, had all echoed Lauren’s sentiments in that regard. And then, wham, her mother meets Arlen during some political luncheon hosted by one of her ladies groups in Miami. He was in town for a national gathering of mayors, and before anyone even knew she’d even met the guy, she was running off with him. They were married less than two weeks after meeting each other, and she moved, lock, stock, and lawn flamingos, to Cedar Springs.

Then, to compound matters, her mother had been hurt when Lauren hadn’t been over-the-moon excited for her when she’d called with the stunning news. In return, Lauren had been hurt that her mother hadn’t even told her what was going on, before going off and doing it. At sixty-three, Charlene O’Grady Matthews was still every bit as sharp, if not sharper, than most of Lauren’s thirty-something peer group. So…she couldn’t reconcile what in the world her mother had been thinking to run off like that, on some spontaneous whim with a guy who was tantamount to a complete stranger.

Her mother had taken offense at that tack. She’d outright refused to talk about her mental state, and whether or not, perhaps, they should be concerned about such an abrupt departure from her normal behavior. Yeah, that whole conversation hadn’t gone over well. At all.

Which was when Lauren had started digging into Arlen’s history. Her mother might not know him, but Lauren planned to know everything she could find out on the guy. Being that he was a public official, and applying her personal contacts, there had been a fair amount to sort through despite his position being in such a small town. He was from San Francisco originally, and had made a run to be his party’s pick for governor many years back, early on in his political career—too early, it seemed, as he hadn’t won their support.

He’d ended up marrying one of his aides and settled with her in her hometown of Cedar Springs, running for the far less prestigious position of mayor, which he’d won handily with the support of his new wife’s family, who carried enormous clout in the area. It was a position he’d held ever since. Lauren hadn’t been all that thrilled with the rest of what she’d turned up. His first wife died shortly thereafter in a car accident. Drinking was rumored to play a role in the tragedy, as was a turbulent marriage. He remarried and divorced shortly afterward. Then remained single and focused his energy on trying to grow Cedar Springs into the next Aspen or Telluride, despite less than enthusiastic local support. In fact, from what she’d learned, Arlen Thompson was mostly all about Arlen Thompson…and thought everyone else should be, too.

What she couldn’t figure out is why they kept electing the guy, but that wasn’t her problem. Her mother marrying him was.

But try to caution her mother that she might not be fully aware of some pertinent information about who she’d married…and all Lauren had gotten was a chilly blast in the ear about daring to dig as she had, about not trusting her mother’s judgment, and, well, that had just been the launch pad. It had swiftly devolved from there, until Lauren didn’t even recognize either one of them during even the briefest phone conversation.

She mourned the loss of both a parental bond and the one true friendship she’d always counted on. Not only because it kept her from being a part of her mother’s new life, but also removed the one voice of reason she could count on when she really needed help. Like deciding whether or not to ditch the career she’d worked so hard for.

She’d really tried to see it from her mother’s point of view, but that hadn’t stopped her from worrying. Or from continuing to dig. She’d finally had to face the fact that the only way her mother couldn’t avoid the topic was if she was standing right in front of her. They had to talk about this…aberration. So, she wasn’t entirely sure just how “excited” her mother really was to see her, but she hoped that they could get past their seeming inability to get through even the most rationally approached conversation about this, and move on to some kind of common ground. Or, at least, a peaceful détente.

She really hoped she’d feel better after meeting Arlen, seeing them together. Her gut, and her reams of research, however, were telling her otherwise. What in the world did her smart, intellectual, witty, and wise mother see in this guy?

“Open-minded,” she reminded herself. She’d promised herself she’d do her best, despite her predisposed opinions. Blame it on her workplace of the past eight years. An environment her mother also knew quite well, as both the daughter of James O’Grady, a well-known lawyer and eventual appellate court judge, and widow of Daniel Matthews, a very respected trial attorney, who’d also been Lauren’s dad. She just couldn’t fathom what had made her mom, who’d been courted plenty over the last sixteen years since her father had passed away, and by some pretty distinguished men…fall for this one?

Yep. Apparently she had a little more work to do on her whole “unbiased” approach if she hoped to pull it off outside the initial handshake.

Lauren continued her stroll down Main Street, looking at the window displays that alternated between mountain gear, mountain sportswear, and a surprising array of beautifully done art, sculpture, and hand-crafted jewelry, with the occasional bookshop and restaurant thrown in for good measure. Most of it immediately forgotten, as her thoughts continued to stray back to the impending dinner. She really wished she could get her mother alone, first to talk and, hopefully begin to smooth things over, before diving into the crux of why she’d come, much less meet the crux. But she didn’t see that happening.

It was the beginnings of a tension headache that had Lauren impulsively pushing through the doors of a bike shop. The constant stress of her job had been taking its toll for some time, even longer if you counted in how long she’d stubbornly refused to accept the fact. Headaches had become the norm, not the exception, and, by the end of each day, her body had ached like someone twice her age. Her doctor—when she’d finally broken down and gone to see him—had given her solid suggestions on how to reduce stress. But his first suggestion had been to either manage her job better, or find another job. She remembered thinking he was over-exaggerating at the time, that if she simply followed a few of his other ideas, things would improve.

Well, one of the other things he’d recommended was walking, swimming, or biking. She walked—ran, really—all day, every day, it seemed, for her job. And while she wouldn’t drown if she ever fell overboard, swimming for distance, or style for that matter, wasn’t ever going to be part of her repertoire. Bike riding, on the other hand, had sounded like fun. Between riding on the Mall, around the Tidal Basin, or all the trails through Rock Creek Park, she had plenty to choose from. She’d decided that would be her gift to herself, her way of distressing. She’d even looked forward to doing it, imagined herself pedaling around town. She’d just…never gotten around to finding the time to actually get a bike. It had been on her to-do list. Along with making time to ride it.

She’d ceremoniously burned the list the day she quit her job. She didn’t need reminders now. Her calendar was wide open.

“So,” she said, “no time like the present, then.” Because the present was definitely not the time to court a migraine-level headache. It could be the thin air, but more likely it was the only serious remaining source of stress in her life, which, when said and done, all boiled down to dinner. This evening. At seven.

Fifteen minutes later she was riding what they called the “townie” model, which essentially meant it had a bigger seat for her bigger caboose. One look at the narrow, rock-hard wedge that served as a mountain bike seat had her quickly swallowing any vanity she might have had on the subject, which had been ever-so-gently broached by the guy at the rental desk, and opting for the biggest, softest townie model in stock. It was pink. Very pink. She’d been trapped in navy blue and pinstripes for so long, she’d just instinctively pointed at it. The rental guy couldn’t possibly know how un-pink her life had been. But he didn’t laugh, or even look at her funny. He’d merely smiled as if it made perfect sense for her and handed her a matching helmet and water bottle. She decided the rental guy was her new best friend.

After a wobbling start in which she almost took out a sidewalk rack of fleece vests and an entire folding table lined with Crocs, she finally managed to find her pace, only to have to stop at the first corner as the one and only light in town turned green for cross-moving traffic. So, she took the opportunity to check out the map her new BFF had given her. He’d explained which trails were accessible to her on her “townie” and which were steep, mountain-bike-only trails. She didn’t bother to even look at those. This was supposed to be fun and pleasurable, after all. And she’d already risked death today in the gum-wrapper-size plane she’d flown out here in. No need to taunt fate twice.

There were various points of interest on the map as well. The ski resort, of course, along with the Olympic training grounds, the Nicklaus-designed golf course, the rodeo and county fairgrounds—just west of town—and a wee bit farther up…hunh. “McKenna Flight School,” she read out loud. “What do you know. He’s a town landmark.” Or his school was. She wondered again about what role he played, if any, in local politics, or just as a local businessman. She’d had him pegged as the sort who kept his focus on his own work and out of others’ business, but then, what did she really know about him? “Other than he didn’t throw you under the bus when Arlen’s secretary had come calling.” And if that was all she had to go on—okay, that and the fact that he was lust on a stick—then she’d extend him the benefit of the doubt. For now.

She glanced back over her shoulder and realized she’d come farther down Main Street than she’d thought. Another glance at her watch showed she still had more than an hour before she was to report for dinner. Which felt more appointment than social engagement. She toyed again with the idea of trying to call her mother to break the ice a little, but she really wasn’t ready for all the variables that action might lead to.

She purposely hadn’t gone into any of the shops, either. Other than the rental guy, Melissa, and Debbie at the motel, she hadn’t talked to any locals. “So much for your plan of playing super sleuth.” She had a whole list of questions she’d planned on asking folks once she got into town, find out what kind of man Arlen Thompson really was, especially to the people who knew him best. Riding herd on the media during Todd’s campaign had taught her a great deal about the dogged persistence of journalists and how they wheedled information out of even the most taciturn delegate. She’d always loathed their whatever-it-takes mentality, but now that she was on the fact-finding end of the stick, the education she’d inadvertently picked up was quite useful. Or would have been if she hadn’t landed in Cedar Springs as some kind of pseudo–local celebrity.

She looked up as the walk light came on, and tucked the map back into her pocket before setting off again. The fact that she happened to be heading in the direction of the flight school was strictly coincidence. Jake had been kind enough to get her into town, then leave her be. She thought about their “date” and wondered if he’d even remember it come Sunday. That was days away from now. Or, perhaps after hearing the buzz of gossip spreading about the mayor’s estranged stepdaughter being in town, he might decide she was too much trouble.

It should bother her, or at the very least be a red flag of some perspective-giving sort, that the idea he might back out on the date disappointed her the way it did. But, at the moment, he was the only person here she felt she could trust, ridiculous as that sounded. And now his school was on the map. She usually went with her gut, and she was rarely wrong. But maybe all the stress, combined with her rather abrupt, life-altering decision, had diluted her instincts. After all, she still had no idea what she was going to do with her life. Not exactly an instinctive move on her part.

Still, she continued pedaling without turning back.