Page 1 of Almost Perfect
ONE
Calla
Being late didn’t bother me anymore.
Whoever was waiting? They could wait. They’d live.
Or at least, that’s what I told myself. I’d gotten so used to Candy making me late, I’d had to come up with this wholeI’m the most important person in the roommindset to cope with it. That came naturally after being in the spotlight so long anyway, but a lot of people got sick of that attitude.
So that was one more thing I didn’t have to do anymore. I’d shown up on time for every obligation I’d had in the last eighteen months since she’d passed. Good for me.
Cue crashing, gnawing guilt.
“Did you get everything you need?” the cabbie asked from his seat.
“Think so. Thanks.”
I adjusted my sunglasses like that would help. He’d gotten more talkative in the ten minutes between the small mountain airport where the private plane had landed, and entering the small mountain town of Silverton, Utah and waiting while I ran into the grocery store.
Now he wound his way through the snowy downtown, which I happened to know wasn’t the fastest way to get to my destination. He couldn’t be driving up the fare because we’d settled on a flat rate. Normally, I’d take a hired car, but none could meet me at the requested time, and I hadn’t wanted to wait.
“You been here before? It’s grown a ton in the last five years or so. More in the last three for sure, since the gigantic new hotel they built got crazy popular. Nice little ski town now.”
Had I been to Silverton before?
“I have, but it was in another life.”
Cryptic enough it didn’t invite questions. Also, true. Coming back was like hopping onto a spaceship to another planet. I’d become someone else since then, and twice over too—I’d had to. So much so, I hardly remembered the person who’d started life in this small town so long ago.
That I’d grown up in this town until just shy of fifteen felt more like a weird piece of trivia someone might dig up and wave around more than something that had shaped me.
It had, though. Hadn’t it? Why else had I come back after as many years gone as I’d spent here?
I brushed away those thoughts. I had plans to fully wallow in the circumstances, but not yet. I sure as hell wasn’t about to break down in front of Jarrod, the cabdriver. Nice enough guy, but the more questions he asked, the more likely it was he recognized me. I’d hoped maybe I could avoid having him sign an NDA, but this was what you got when you didn’t make reservations with a private car service.Oh well.
I could hear my PA Kristoffer chiding me and could feel my security team’s glares from here. Getting out of LA without a small contingent of staff had taken no small amount of convincing, and I wasn’t about to spend my time thinking about them while here.
Yeah? How’s that working for you?
As if on cue, my phone rang. Rad Bickman, my manager.Again. Like he wasn’t a huge part of why I’d fled LA and a huge part of everything that’d gone wrong leading up to getting on the plane to come here.
Nope!Ignore.Couldn’t deal with that right now.
Outside my window, the quaint downtown positively burst with life—definitely a different version of Silverton than I’d had as a kid. I’d read about the sleepy settlement going through a boom since Rockstar Jamie Morris had bought a house and developed land here around the same time he got married—the tabloids had had a field day declaring music’s most eligible bachelor was off the market—a handful of years ago. Paired with the growth of the resort itself, including a luxury hotel on site, it felt like a real hoity-toity ski town now. Not as much as Aspen or Park City, or even Jackson Hole. I’d been to all those places but never ventured back here.
“That’s the Egyptian Theater. Odd trend out here, but lots of the towns have ’em. Usually function as regular theaters until February when the film festivals start,” Jarrod shared.
I eyed the old building with pastel coloring and intricate geometric shapes on the front, my belly swooping low as that particular aesthetic pushed me back in time. Candy—or as I’d known her then, Mom—and I had gone there fairly often. Sunday matinees the last weekend of the month were usually half-priced, so we’d catch whatever we could.
No one would remember me anymore, especially without Candy. But even with her, I doubted anyone would’ve placed us. My mom had never been social, and even if she had, she’d been the far more sophisticatedCandicethen.
Shifting in the squeaky back seat, I admired the shops lining Main Street just as Jarrod piped up again.
“You’ll wanna try Guac for the best Mexican food in the state, and I’m not joking. Rise and Shine for breads and coffee, also award-winning. Fancier restaurants on Elk Street one block over. Here, you’ve got a few stores and such as well. Plus if you’re a pasta lover, I highly recommend Basta.”
“Sounds great,” I said, taking in the adorable storefronts and metal signs arching along the street, which reminded me more of a European city than what I’d remembered of this place. They must’ve been there all along, but at fourteen, I hadn’t noticed them.
None of the restaurants looked familiar. I remembered the Elk Street Grill, but we didn’t eat out much when we lived here, so maybe the others had always been here too. Even for a tight-knit community like this one, Candy and I were outsiders. I did okay at school, wasn’t bullied or anything, but I’d left Silverton before I ever made it out of my awkward teen stage.
