Page 1 of Sin in the Mountains

Chapter 1

Scarlett

"Rachel?Haveyouseenthe silver heels I bought last week?" I blow an errant hair out of my eyes and look around my room, before pulling another large box from the pile in the corner. "They have to be here," I mutter.

My roommate pokes her head around the door. "They're here. You showed them to me a few days ago." Seeing my distress, Rachel crouches to search through the pile of clothes in the corner.

"I know, but where are they?" I disturb a carefully balanced stack of papers and mail, groaning as it cascades across my floor and under the bedside table. "It's a sign. I shouldn't be going to Duhring Park. Miranda will understand if I miss the wedding, right?"

Rachel snorts. "Or, it's a sign you need to unpack your boxes and organize your room."

"Pssh. You’re far too practical." I grin in spite of my mounting anxiety.

"You know, I'm starting to think you aren't planning to live here long." Rachel sits back on her heels and eyes the stacks of boxes around the room.

"Tired of me already?" I tease.

Rachel shakes her head quickly, her brown eyes going round. "No. I love having you here."

"Me too," I say sincerely, and then look around warily. She has a point. "I think I'm still in shock at how quickly I was displaced last time. I want to be able to move at a moment's notice, in case I'm ever kicked out again. Not that you'll evict me," I insist, putting up a hand to ward off Rachel's protest.

Rachel nods, giving me a sympathetic look, and then she shudders. "I don't know how you lived with him for seven months after you broke up." She leans forward and pulls things out from under my bed as she continues to hunt for my shoes.

I shrug. "He made a better roommate than a boyfriend."And I think I'm having a slightly-beyond-quarter-life crisis, I add silently. I don't have time to melt down this exact second, but it's looming.

"Until he got you both kicked out." Rachel's beautiful face scrunches up with anger. My bubbly, gorgeous, wouldn't-hurt-a-fly roommate's eyes flash with disgust for my ex-boyfriend. Chad was definitely not the one, but I thought he was at least a somewhat decent roommate. And he was. Until he stopped paying rent. Without telling me. And pocketing my half.

It's becoming clearer to me by the day that my radar for good choices is always slightly off kilter. Prime example: I worked my butt off in college to get a great internship with the top finance company in the city, but I ended up working for a blathering idiot who strings me along with the promise of a promotion every few quarters. I've paid my time back after getting my MBA, and then some, so I should look for another job, but I'm starting to think I don't love what I do. Hell, I think I might actuallyhateworking in finance. And probably the worst of it is remembering how fast I ran to get out of my hometown, yet every time I drive over Passion Ridge back to the city, the loneliness pummels into me like a boulder.

Hey, meltdown. Give me three more days and then you can hit me like a tsunami.

Rachel points her finger at me. "Scarlett, you deserve a guy who wants to take care of you."

"I can take care of myself." My defense mechanism kicks in immediately.No problems, no worries. Everything is fine, fine, fine.

"Of course you can. And he'll know that but will still take care of you anyway," Rachel says, the dreamy glint in her eye making her practically swoon. "Those are the men worth your time."

I can't help but grin at her romantic ideas about love, born entirely out of romance novels and the many film versions ofPride & Prejudice.

"May your book boyfriend come to life and bump right into you," I say like it's a wish to the heavens.

"Yeah, well, at this point, I need a job first. Then I'll find love." Rachel wiggles her eyebrows at me before resuming her search under my bed.

I should buy a lottery ticket with how lucky I am to have found a friend like Rachel. Two months ago, Miranda's wedding planner, Violet, happened to be atThe Reading Groundswhen I called to scream about my newfound homelessness and the baffling stupidity of Chad. Violet mentioned her friend had been given two weeks’ notice and was desperate to find a roommate to help split costs until she landed on her feet again.

By that afternoon, I'd met Rachel. She helped me move into the office space of her apartment, and we spent the night bonding over takeout and K-dramas. We love the same music, have the same favorite Chinese take-out place, and both of us make sure to have at least one pair of black undies in rotation at all times because of10 Things I Hate About You. I may sleep on a fold-out couch, but I've never been so grateful to be free of a dramatic man-child who doesn't know how to manage money.

It was fate.

Now, if I could get her to read something besides billionaire romances, I might trust her advice on men.

"Found them!" Rachel yells, wiggling out from under my bed. She holds the shoe box up in triumph.

"Yes! Oooh, thank you." I clutch the shoes to my chest and breathe out a sigh of relief.

"For someone trying to get out of going back to Duhring Park moments ago, you certainly seem relieved," Rachel observes shrewdly.

Shaking my head, I shrug. "It's complicated."

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