Page 22 of Waitress at the Shadow Ridge Inn
With Angie gone, there’s no reason to stick around any longer. I leave the party and walk several blocks to my car, typing as I go.
The farther I walk, the angrier I get. The only reason I’d even gone to that party was because she’d begged me to. Worse, I’m hurt that she’d accused me of hitting on a guy she liked.
I know it’s the alcohol talking. Angie and I had been friends long enough for her to know better. And long enough for me to know that alcohol has a way of intensifying Angie’s insecurities.
Tonight, I’d let her sleep it off. But tomorrow, we were going to have a chat.
I unlock my door and reach for the handle when a wave of nausea washes over me.
My skin prickles, and a shiver runs down my spine, along with the sense that someone is watching me. I look around. There aren’t many people out at this hour, and no one is paying any attention to me.
I quickly get into my car and lock the door, taking a moment to look up and down the street again. After the weird cards and gifts that had been showing up from “a secret admirer” lately, I’m on my guard.
Another wave washes over me, this one stronger than the last. My head starts to swim and I feel like I’m going to pass out. I rest my head on the steering wheel, waiting for the dizziness to subside …
I woke up,shivering, my skin covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Typically, when I dreamed of that night, it was of waking up alongside a trail in the woods, not of the events that had led up to that point.
Was my subconscious trying to tell me something? Some important detail I might have forgotten?
I got up and shuffled my way into the shower. The hot water helped with the chills. I sank down onto the floor and leaned my back against the tiles, taking comfort in the heat and steam. I breathed slowly, counting. Odd numbers on the inhale, even on the exhale, up to fifty. Then, I did it again and again.
When sufficiently calm and warmed, I wrapped myself in a fluffy robe and padded out to the kitchen. I made some herbal tea, then went out on the cobblestone patio and watched the sun rise over the mountains.
8
I wasn’t scheduledto go into the inn until later.
I busied myself with doing laundry, tidying up the cottage, and spending some time outside. The weather was unseasonably warm, the sky clear and the sun bright. I took a walk, raked leaves, pulled weeds from the flower beds, and brushed away cobwebs and bug carcasses from the outside porch lights.
It was cathartic. I needed the instant gratification. I’d spent so much of the last year running, but never actually getting anywhere. That took its toll, and sometimes, I needed to stop, take a breath, and recharge.
That was what these last six weeks had been for me. A much-needed respite.
I would miss the little cottage when I continued on. It was cozy and secluded, and I doubted I’d find another place I’d like as much. I’d miss Shadow Ridge, too, with its beautiful scenery and laid-back simplicity. I’d miss the inn and the unique, quirky people who, despite my best efforts, had grown on me.
That was the one downside of doing mindless tasks—I had too much time to think while doing them.
I thought about putting Shadow Ridge in my rearview mirror, going home, and finally claiming my inheritance. I’d stay only as long as it took to get things done. I couldn’t afford to linger, not with my stalker still out there, watching and waiting for me to reappear.
I still felt like a victim. Someone was obsessed with me, and I was no closer to figuring out who it was than I had been when I left. I knew only that whoever they were, they were a danger to me and anyone around me.
I couldn’t do that to Angie, especially now that she seemed to be happy. I’d called her the night before, and she said she’d found someone. Hopefully, he was worthy, but the fact that she didn’t seem keen on talking about him or telling me his name was a red flag. That had suggested she didn’t think I’d approve, and she was probably right.
Angie was my best friend, and I loved her, but when it came to men, she exhibited poor judgment, in my opinion. She would set her sights on a guy and make him the center of her world. Too much, too soon. Things would end badly, and she’d be devastated and inconsolable. Then, she’d see another guy, and the cycle would begin all over again.
I couldn’t fault her for that. She’d had a tough life, and she wanted the happily ever after. Didn’t we all?
A vision of chestnut hair and hazel eyes filled my mind’s eye. In leaving, was I potentially sabotaging what might bemypossible HEA?
I shook my head. I was being ridiculous. So what if simply thinking of him made my heart beat faster and awakened parts of me that had been dormant for a long time?
My guardian angel wasn’t much help on the subject. She remained quiet and sulky and didn’t seem inclined to confirm that leaving was the best thing to do. While my head insisted that going was the right choice, my heart was quietly whispering,Why can’t we stay?
Eventually, it was time to go to work. I cleaned up, donned my black jeans and white button-down, pulled my hair back and secured it at the nape, and made the drive into town. I’d been psyching myself up to talk to Rose, but neither she nor John were there when I arrived. In fact, no one was.
The universe was conspiring against me—I was certain of it.
The lot was empty, and the employee entrance at the back was locked. Mondays were typically our slowest day of the week, but they weren’tthatslow.
