Page 43 of A Little Too Late
“Oh, I would,” I admit. “But tonight is the practice session for the opening night ceremony, and I can’t be in two places at once.”
Every year we hold a ritual the evening after the ski mountain’s first open day of the season. A symphonic band plays outside, while the employees ski down the mountain in formation, holding lanterns. It looks cool, and it gets us a lot of social media shares.
Reed hefts the box of pottery. “Thank you for this.”
“It’s nothing,” I insist. I walk him to the door, but I stand back at a safe distance. I don’t need a repeat of that naughty, misguided, wonderful kiss.
CHAPTER 17
THE RUSTY HINGES OF MY HEART
AVA
“Here, Ava,” Halley says, passing me a red Solo cup as the jacuzzi jets burble cheerfully all around me.
It’s nine o’clock, and our practice session for the opening ceremony ended an hour ago. I glance into the cup and see a splash of pink wine. Drinking is still not on tonight’s to-do list, but I’d never say no to a spontaneous hot tub night with the girls.
The resort has two hot tubs—one adjacent to the heated pool and a private one that’s only for spa clients to use between treatments. The high wooden fence around the spa patio is strung with cheery fairy lights and potted evergreen shrubs reside in each corner.
Once in a while Sarah, the spa manager, invites us into the spa’s giant hot tub after hours. Tonight, it’s me and Halley, Sarah, Raven, and our special guest, Sheila. I’d found her sitting alone at the bar flipping through a magazine, and she’d been happy to dash upstairs for her swimsuit to join us.
“So how are you holding up, Ava?” Raven asks.
“Fine,” I say primly. “The accounting review seemed to go well today.”
Raven tosses her hair and smiles at me. “I wasn’t asking about the accounting review, babe. How is it spending time withhim?”
My eyes flip involuntarily to Sheila.
“Hey, girl code,” she says, holding up two hands in submission. “I’m a vault. Besides, I don’t really pay any attention to Reed. Inevernotice how lonely he seems. Or how frustrating he is to the women he halfheartedly dates. And I sure never noticed how hot he looks getting sweaty in the corporate gym.”
The other women roar with laughter.
“So I repeat the question,” Raven presses. “How’s it going?”
“Terrible,” I grumble. “First I got drunk and chatty…”
Sarah moans in sympathy.
“Then I barfed in his presence. That was yesterday. Today I learned that I broke a piece of pottery his dead mother made for him. And while I was trying to apologize, I—” Oh, it’s too awful to say aloud, so I stick my face in my hands. “Ahkissedhim.”
“Sorry, what?” Sarah asks.
“I kissed him,” I mumble.
There’s a shared intake of breath.
“Oh Jesus,” Halley curses. “Big mistake.”
“I know, right?” I pry my face out of my hands and sip my wine. It tastes like battery acid, but that’s probably just the remnants of my hangover talking.
“Sounds like you two have some old issues to sort out,” Raven says. “Maybe it’s agoodthing he showed up in Colorado again.”
“Maybe,” I grumble. “But good forwhom? Reed is working through some unresolved grief, which is probably healthy. But I’m just forgetting how to be angry at him.”
“You’re right.” Sarah titters. “And forgiveness is so destructive to the soul.” She aims a playful splash in my direction.
“It is!” I argue, splashing her back. “My anger keeps me warm at night.”
