Page 2 of When Wildflowers Bloom

When I smile, she frowns.Right.

My eyes dart around the wall of bottles behind her for something that screams woman on a mission without artificial dyes. Something strong that will burn my throat and the doubts of everything I’m about to do.

Bingo!

“Triple sec,” I say with confidence at the same time an explosion of clacks come from balls colliding at a pool table behind me, making me jump.

“You want two fingers...of triple sec?” Her red lipspress in a tight line.

I nod and look down the length of the bar to see if I’m forgetting something. Garnishes.Right.

“And an olive. And orange wedge!” I point my finger at her like a gun with an unspokenand don’t you forget it.

“Two fingers of triple sec…with an olive and orange wedge. Got it.” She gives me one last lingering look before turning away and grabbing a bottle.

“That’s an interesting order,” a man says from a stool next to me.

I turn my head to look at him. His dark hair, long enough to tuck behind his ears, frames a handsome face with a square jaw. He has a beard, thick yet trimmed, and a toothpick bobbing on his lips. The corners of his dark brown eyes crinkle when they meet mine. He’s wearing a black T-shirt—plain—that pulls across his shoulders and chest.

In a different life, I would touch him to see if looks this good are real, but lucky for him, I’m in this life and not wasting my time.

I flick him an uninterested smile as I pull a blue sticky note out of my purse and alternate between skimming it and scanning the crowd.

“I’ve never seen you in here before,” he says, taking a pull of his beer.

I shift on my stool as the bartender sets my drink down.

“Aren’t you observant.”

Translation:Leave me alone.

He doesn’t. “Do you live here?”

I look at him. “I’m from…” My gaze drops to the mountainous label on the beer in his hand, reminding me I’m someone else tonight. Someone free. “The Rockies.” Aiming for mysterious, I miss with awkward. “I’m here visiting family.”

Both he and the bartender are silent as their eyes ping from me to each other to the drink in front of me.

I pretend not to notice.

I down the liquid in my glass in a single gulp and suck the orange wedge like I’ve seen on TV. I eat the olive next, smacking my lips and following with a loud sigh that I hope masks my disgust. It’s gross, like orange juice syrup mixed with salad dressing, but I don’t show that. I smile. Tonight Me likes it.

The bartender’s eyes widen like a cartoon character. “Okay,” she drawls, dragging out the word with a sort of skepticism that I ignore. Smiling, she reaches across the bar. “I’m Libby, the owner, by the way.” She lifts her chin toward the man next to me. “This is Bo.”

Some of the tension dissolves from my shoulders, no doubt from the hard alcohol, as I shake her hand. “I’m…” I pause, panicking slightly. Tonight Me is someone who does everything different. Has a different name even.Yes!“Pam. Yes, Pam.” I clear my throat. “Beesly. That’s it. Pam Beesly.” My only idea for a fake name is the secretary fromThe Office,and it makes me want to punch myself in the face.

“Well,Pam Beesly, nice to have you here…from the Rockies,” she says.

She drops my hand, giving Bo another knowing look before walking away to help another customer.

“I guess youarefrom around here?” I ask, turning to look at Bo.

He has a casual, easy way about him. Maybe he’s faking it like me, or maybe he’s lucky enough to have the kind of life where happiness comes as easy as breathing. Either way, it suits him. Either way, Real Me feels like a gigantic bruise being pushed on when I notice.

“Guilty as charged,” he says, lifting his bottle. “Why are you here alone if you’re visiting family?”

“It’s my birthday,” I say with a grin.

His forearms drop to the bar, his chin pulls back, and a crease forms between his eyebrows. “Where is everyone else?”

---