Page 14 of The Love Hoax
Who am I kidding? No way Adam would be interested in a much older woman.
Maybe I should have agreed to ride with him to the park. What are the odds a man who cheered me on at the pool table, against his buddy, is a secret murderer?
Doesn’t matter. It’s too late. I have no way to reach him. And anyway, I’m not in the market for a man. Been there, done that.
I spray on tons of sunscreen and toss a bag of trail mix and twogranola bars into my backpack. After filling up my water bottles, I grab my phone, sunglasses, and Columbia University ball cap and head out to the Porsche, pumped up for a day in Yosemite.
Chapter Eleven
Evie
The early morning clouds part the moment I park near the trailhead. I stopped for a short break on the drive from the hotel to fill up and buy two roast beef sandwiches at a Subway I found off the exit. Lunch and dinner.
I grab my backpack and all geared up, tap open my TrailsTrack app. It will keep me on the trail even when the Wi-Fi kicks off or the trail markers are hard to find. My smartwatch will log my steps, heart rate, and elevation.
Several other bleary-eyed hikers are starting out as well, some with dogs on a leash.
A young couple with a Shepherd mix greets me. The man is wearing a Cincinnati Bengals t-shirt.
“Hi there,” he says. “I’m Troy. This is my girlfriend, Sarah. Looks like we’re not the only early risers.”
“I’m Evie. Nice to meet you.”
“You also staying on the campgrounds?”
“Nope, I just drove an hour from my hotel.” I know I sound like a spoiled city girl. Can’t be helped. That’s exactly what I am. But with my heart in the mountains.
The dog sniffs the ground, fascinated by whatever scent he’s picking up.
“Far from home?” Troy asks me.
“Is it that obvious?”
He points to my head.
“Oh. Well, I went to Columbia Law a lifetime ago.” Probably his lifetime. “But I do still live in New York.”
“Never been,” Sarah says. She’s in her early twenties and soft around the middle. “We hope to get there someday. Actually, this is our first time out of Ohio.”
I find it remarkable when other Americans rarely leave their home states. The country is so diverse and beautiful. I know it’s a big city—possibly, entitled—mindset, but it’s how I think. “New York is great but this is prettier,” I say, gesturing to the breathtaking scenery, aware of the understatement. To our right is a wide lake surrounded by a carpet of yellow wildflowers. Ahead of us, a mountain of evergreens, its trail to the top yet to be conquered.
“You got that right.”
Sarah, Troy, and I turn to see who’s joining the conversation.
He’s head-to-toe in pricey Gore-Tex, dark wraparound sunglasses are perched atop his shaggy hair.
I feel a flutter in my belly. “Hi, Adam.”
“Good morning, y’all,” Adam says, brightly, as if he’d slept for a solid eight hours which I know he has not.
The young couple smiles as Adam lets the pup sniff his hand, gaining canine approval. Adam gives the dog a thorough scratch behind the ears. “Who’s a good doggie?” he coos, checking the collar tag. “Percy, aren’t you a sweetie?”
Percy licks Adam’s hand, then sprawls, legs splayed, asking for a belly rub. Adam obliges.
“I’m surprised to see you,” I say, interrupting the love fest.
“Why? I said I was taking this trail today.”
