Читать книгу A Christmas to Remember - Rebecca Moesta - Страница 10

Chapter 6

Jennifer looked forward to the drive from Denver International Airport up to Aspen. Taught by her mom, she’d gotten her driver’s license during high school, like Meredith and most of her other friends in New Jersey had. Jennifer was a good driver, but living in New York, she didn’t get to do it very often anymore. She missed it. Long drives alone refreshed her and helped clear her mind.

Her travel day hadn’t started out well. Her flight to Denver had been delayed. Then it had been canceled altogether, and all of the people on her plane had been rebooked on flights later in the day. She’d ended up in a middle seat toward the back of the plane.

In Denver, after waiting at the baggage carousel for half an hour, she’d discovered that her luggage had been put on an earlier flight and was in a holding area. By the time she reached the car rental counter, she was frustrated and in a hurry. She hadn’t even considered spending a night in Denver, especially since she had intended to arrive much earlier in the day. And a posh, private chalet awaited her. At this point, she didn’t want to waste another minute of the luxurious vacation Paula had promised her.

“Jennifer Wade,” the car rental agent said. He gave her a questioning look.

“Yes, that Jennifer Wade, yes,” she acknowledged. She was used to being recognized in New York.

But the rental agent’s face did not register any recognition. Maybe she wasn’t as recognizable here as she was in New York, where her likeness was plastered on billboards. He consulted his computer terminal. “Yup, we’ve got a nice four-wheel-drive SUV for you.”

That didn’t sound very fun to Jennifer at all. A clunky old SUV? She’d been hoping for something a bit more luxurious or sleek to start off her vacation. “Ooh, do you have anything a little faster?” she asked. “I was hoping I could get there before it’s too dark.”

The clerk hesitated. “An SUV would be a great choice in this weather.”

She smiled one of her patented Jennifer Wade smiles that always got her what she wanted. It was an expression of friendly determination with a flash of challenge in her eyes. Paula called that smile “velvet over steel.”

The rental agent sighed. “Well, there are a couple of options I could show you. Will you be needing to rent a GPS today?”

Jennifer held up her smartphone for him to see. “Everything I need is in here.”

The clerk smiled wanly and clicked something on his computer. He printed out her rental agreement, and it took an exasperating amount of time to complete it—sheesh, there was a waiver for turning down the GPS?

It was late afternoon and snowing by the time she pulled out of the rental car lot. The weather had turned the skies gloomy. And it was rush hour. The silver sports coupe she had chosen crawled along I-70 heading west through Denver. The sun was low on the horizon, nearly blinding her. She flipped down her visor and put on a pair of sunglasses.

“What time does the sun set today?” she asked the electronic assistant on her telephone.

“The sun will set at 4:38 pm today,” the electronic voice answered.

She blew out an annoyed breath. The last thing she wanted was to be wandering around in the dark looking for an unfamiliar place. When she had asked the car rental agent for directions, he had told her, “It’s a straight shot on I-70 for hours. Then there are lots of signs—you can’t miss it.”

But she might miss it, especially if it was dark and snowing. Well, at least no one was at the chalet waiting for her. There were no engagements, no deadlines, nothing to do but relax. She didn’t have to worry about disappointing anyone by arriving late, and Paula had told her she didn’t need to call right away. So why was she worrying?

“You’re a grownup,” she chided herself. “You can handle a freeway and following a bunch of signs. Besides, you’ve got the GPS on your phone.” On the far side of Denver, the traffic finally started to ease up, and she gladly accelerated to the posted speed limit as the road climbed into the foothills. “Straight shot for hours,” she reminded herself.

She felt the tense knot between her shoulder blades getting tighter. When she tried to massage her neck and shoulders with one hand, she bumped the steering wheel, started to drift out of her lane, and yanked the wheel back straight. The tires of the impractical sports coupe slipped on the road. Her stomach clenched, and she held her breath. The back of the car slewed to the right for a few seconds. She steered into the skid, and the car straightened out again. That was close, she thought. She made herself start breathing again.

“Okay, Colorado, you’d better be worth it.” It was getting dark. Snow swirled around the rental car. “I can’t see anything,” she muttered and took off her sunglasses.

What she really needed right now was something to take her mind off the long drive. Maybe she could listen to some music or news. She turned on the car radio. Since she didn’t know any of the local stations, she tried the preset buttons. The first station was playing Christmas music. She listened for a few seconds, but then her mind went back to the Christmas special she had just finished shooting, and she thought of the different ways she could have set the table that would have displayed the food to better advantage.

No, she would be better off not listening to Christmas music at the moment. Even though the holidays held good thoughts of her mother, it had only been two years since Jennifer lost her, and Christmas music felt like an unfair reminder that she had lost all of the family that she’d had left in the world. Not all of her friends, of course, but all of her family. She tried another preset button. This station played Christmas hymns. She tried a third button, but only found more Christmas music. In frustration, she shut the radio off. She glanced down at her GPS and saw she was perfectly on course. She gave a sigh. With nothing else to occupy her mind, the memories came.

Her thoughts inadvertently drifted back to when she was in her twenties. While putting herself through the Institute of Culinary Education in New York, she’d frequently helped her friend Meredith with catering jobs. During one of these catering events, Jennifer had met Ashton Randall III at his parents’ elegant Long Island home. He had enigmatic hazel eyes, patrician features, an aquiline nose, short copper hair, and lips curled into a perpetual smirk.

After the party, he’d offered to take her home. The rest, as they say, was history—bad history.

After a couple of months of formal courtship, Ashton had proposed, and Jennifer had accepted. What she had wanted most was a real family: children, a home, and a sense of belonging. Only much later had Jennifer realized that the warning signs with Ashton had been there all along. It had taken years to recognize that he viewed her as little more than an ornament, a pretty tool to use in furthering his position and prestige. In his narcissism, he had tried to control every part of her life.

Looking back now, Jennifer decided that the best thing to come out of those wasted years had been her blog, which had ultimately led to her friendship with Paula and to her career. Maybe she would give Paula a call, after all, as soon as she got to the chalet.

Jennifer pressed down harder on the gas pedal of her sports coupe.