Page 34 of When Glitter Meets Gold

“Most people come out to places like this to forget about work.” He shrugs, and I recall we never did revisit the conversation about thesituationhe’s dealing with back…wherever it is he’s from.

“You’re forgetting I never meant to be outhere.” And one night in a tent doesn’t suddenly make me a woman of the forest. “But, being out here has actually helped…clear a couple of things up.”

“About work?” he asks, trying hard to make sense of my vague replies.

“Mhmm.” I bite my lip. I’m not sure if it’s an invite to share what’s on my mind or if he’s just distracting me from the swarms of flies that seem to be doubling with every curve in the trail. “I’m going for a promotion, and I needed to figure out a way to give myself an edge. I guess I figured it out.”

“Then this whole ordeal wasn’t a total bust,” he replies. I look over to see him watching me carefully.

“Right,” I say absently, my thoughts drifting back to work. About something foggy I’ve been thinking about, something that hasn’t yet formed solid edges. Something I can’t wait to outline when I get back home. Something I thought about while distracting myself from the horror of sleeping with my makeup on for the first time since college. Something that might just give me the advantage I need. Apart from this whole fake hike thing. Something that’s actually real.

“I guess I can see why this place appeals to you, sort of.” I shrug. “I mean obviously it’s gross,” I say quickly. “But it’s peaceful. In fact, I also wouldn’t mind finding somewhere to escape to whenever I need to catch my breath.” I remember what Jack said earlier about his job being nuts and how he needed the trails to decompress. “But ew, not here. God no.” I shake my head, earning an eye roll and a smirk from him.

We follow the path—an actual path this time—for another twenty minutes or so until I remember something I want to ask before we inevitably part ways.

“I meant to ask earlier…if you don’t go by Jack anymore, what do I call you? You know, for the story I tell my grandkids about the time I drove a car off a cliff.”

We stop in front of an enormous wooden structure, andI figure that we’ve reached the tower at last. Though for some reason, the arrival doesn’t fill me with the relief I’d imagined.

“Why don’t you just stick with Jack,” he says, before adding a little softer, “I don’t mind it so much when you say it.”

A heavy set of footsteps, accompanied by a deep voice coming from a rocky set of stairs around the side of the tower, keeps the conversation from going any further. Perhaps for the best, since a part of me wants to askwhyit’s suddenly okay to call him a name he’d made me believe he hated. Maybe touching someone with your morning boner changed things…

“Up here.” A broad-shouldered man with light brown hair, and mirrored aviators signals to us. “Everything good?”

Mountain Rescue. Thank the lord.

“This one’s a little far from home.” Jack smirks at the man who’s wearing a white shirt with a dark olive vest zipped over the top. Then he’s resting his eyes on me, his body stiffening, his posture giving off something final and definitive. “He’ll take care of you.” He nods. “Good luck with everything, Sara. Keep the sweater.”

Before I can utter a word, he’s already striding in the opposite direction, steering off the path, and cutting through the thick underbrush. It’s not long before he disappears entirely into the wilderness. The time spent with him already feels like its dissolving into a memory.

“You coming?” the deep voice calls from over my shoulder. “There’s a doctor waiting in the tower to examine you, then the chopper will get you off the mountain.” He points to the top of the tower where I assume there’s a landing pad.

“My car—” I begin but the man cuts me off.

“A team’s already performing the recovery. Don’t worry,it’s being taken care of. You can relax and focus on getting out of here. Sounds like you’ve been through quite the ordeal.”

The rest is a blur.

There’s the long climb to the small room in the tower where a kind, white-haired female doctor checks me over. And the even longer climb to the top of the tower after I’m granted the all clear. And finally, the ride in the helicopter that takes me away from the mountain where my entire life felt like it flashed before my eyes.

All of it disappears in a flash.

Even the journey from the manicured grounds of Whistling Acres to the hotel lobby passes without so much as a thought. I don’t even flinch when the girl at the reception desk sourly informs me they’ll be charging me an extra hundred dollars to replace my missing room key.

The thing that finally shocks me from this haze is the discovery of a butt naked guy sprawled across my bed, whipped cream doused over his crotch, and a big ripe strawberry in his grinning mouth.

14

SARA

The knocking coming from the other side of the door echoes throughout the glossy walls of the white marble bathroom. It’s the same type of knock that occurs when someone sheepishly disregards ado not disturbsign. Weak, but relentless nevertheless.

I’ve been hiding in here no longer than thirty seconds, because I didn’t know what else to do when I found none other than Drew Dawson propped up on one elbow on his side, legs bared wide, whipped cream leaving nothing to the imagination. Rushing into the bathroom to barricade myself behind a locked door had seemed like the best plan. Not to mention I haven’t looked at myself in the mirror since yesterday afternoon. I couldn’t just stand there and let him witness me in my most feral state.

Now I’m hyperventilating with both hands gripping the sides of a very beautifully crafted porcelain sink.

“Sar? You okay?” Drew’s voice comes from behind the door. “Was the cream too much? Sorry, it was the cream, wasn’t it? You know what, I’m getting rid of it right now.” Ihear a sigh, followed by the unmistakable sound of a towel chafing against skin. “Are you okay?”

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