Page 19 of Fresh Tracks
After a couple roundsof Frisky Fox spicy margaritas, I finally spill the beans to Collin and Walker. I’m glad I did, it feels like a weight has been lifted. They understood why I don’t want my family knowing yet. I should have known Collin would get it. He might be Tanner’s best friend and even though he’s almost ten years older, we were still pretty close. I remember he came out after high school years ago, so if anyone would understand keeping things from your friends and family, it would be him. My worries feel almost trivial in hindsight now, even if I still don't plan to tell anyone else yet.
“I know, I know. I’m probably being overdramatic. Even TJ offered me a job,” I say, taking a sip of my drink. The salted rim stings my lips, chapped from a day of skiing.
The table goes quiet for a second and Josie turns to me. “Excuse me? TJ, as inTheTommy Jacob? As in Teal Tigers’ Tommy Jacob?”
I nod, licking more of the salt off the rim of my glass.
Collin chimes in. “As in TJ, the notoriously private retired rockstar whose house you stayed at with your brothers earlier this year? And side note, still bummed I missed that trip.”
I shake my head, jutting my chin out at them. “Yeah, and? He probably just felt bad for me or is bored since he can’t fish right now.”
They both hum curiously and look at each other. Simultaneously, Collin and Josie both look back at me, pointing at each other when their mouths open.
“I like her.”
“I like him.”
“What?” I groan, wishing they’d clue me in on their inside joke. I remember Collin could make friends with anyone and clearly that hasn’t changed.
Walker leans forward, letting out a low laugh. “I think these two here believe that good ol’ TJ has a thing for you.”
Between what they're saying and Walker's way too cool drawl, I can feel my cheeks heating. “No way. He’s just pity offering me a job. Tanner’s pathetic little sister. Besides, I barely know him and he didn’t even say what the job is.”
Josie shrugs. “I can’t believe you kept this detail from me. Who cares what he needs you to do? He’s Tommy-freaking-Jacob. You should absolutely take that job.”
I want to object, but she’s not wrong. I didn’t take him seriously in the moment and then there was all the commotion and celebration after Clay proposed to Lizzy. But would it really be the worst thing?
I was considering picking up shifts at the coffee shop or somewhere else around town. I’m sure whatever TJ’s offering would be better than that — and probably pay better too.
Would it be weird to text him? I told him I’m not a charity case. What if it was just a joke or he’s changed his mind?
Collin looks at Josie and gives her a few enthusiastic nods. “Hell yeah, she should. Plus, TJ's a total daddy.”
I nearly choke on my drink and Josie cackles. Walker is quirking his brow at Collin but gives an approving shrug.
“Screw all of you, seriously.” I manage to get the words out after I stop coughing on my drink.
They continue on with their conversation, but I can’t help but think they’re right. Not the hot part, even though yeah, TJ is definitely hot. It would be worth reaching out to him, even if it’s just to have another friend in town. If only I could just work up the nerve to do it.
CHAPTER 8
TJ
THE WORST
“You know,this might be the worst pasta you’ve ever made.” I lean across the chef’s tasting counter at Gloria’s, while Sutton cleans a set of knives in the open kitchen.
“Well, damn. That hurts,” he says while focusing on putting the fancy Damascus steel knife on the magnetic holder along the back wall. The neat row of knives, all made by Chapman, is orderly, but not quite up the standards that his neat freak brother, Slade, would keep. Slade still runs their first restaurant in Denver as well as their other one in Park City, Utah. They opened Gloria's here after both restaurants’ success. I started getting lunch or dinner here at least once a week if I was in town, and befriended Sutton. Ever since then, it seems like one of the Sterling brothers is always close by, which is fine by me.
Sutton puts the last knife away before turning back to me, still sporting his ever-present, shit-eating grin. “You do know that you still have to pay for it though, right?”
I finish the last bite, exposing my lie. His food is always exceptional. I’m still tired from the flight earlier this morning and I barely have enough energy to deal with his constant teasing and playful personality today. But Saturday lunches with him havebecome routine for me when I'm in town. I practically have a name plate on this seat, where I get to try the new dishes he’s been working on before they go on the menu.
“What happened to ‘the customer is always right’?” I grumble, still not quite myself because of the flight. Or at least that’s what I’ve been telling myself.
He laughs and shakes his head. “I swear, you’re the cheapest multi-millionaire I know. And now the grouchiest. What happened to chill, laid-back TJ?” He leans across the counter, taking in my empty plate and smirking back at me. “This wouldn’t have something to do with the very off limits woman you’re obsessed with shooting you down?”
I groan, dropping my fork into the empty dish with a clang. He’s not entirely wrong. I haven’t seen her since the reception, but that doesn't mean I wasn’t doing a double take every time I saw a black Sprinter van around Jackson, hoping it was her.
