“Yup—I saw a few of them on the way up here,” I said, reaching for her hand and assisting her as she stepped down out of the truck.
When she wobbled, I wrapped my other arm around her, pulling her close to keep her from falling. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”
I guided her to the side of the food truck until she was leaning against it, then pulled out my phone to call for medical help.
Too bad there was no signal at that spot in the mountains.
“Well, that sucks.” I slid the phone back into my pocket.
“I have insurance,” she said, which made me smile since she had no idea what I was talking about.
She massaged her temples, then tucked her wavy golden locks of hair behind her ears to reveal the most angelic heart-shaped face and mocha brown eyes that I could easily find myself lost in.
When she looked up and we locked gazes, those beautiful brown eyes turned murky and were suddenly shooting poisoned darts in my direction.
“What areyoudoing here?” she asked.
Speechless from her sudden change of demeanor, I couldn’t help wondering if she had been the recipient of one of my not-too-pleasant restaurant reviews in the past. She looked a little familiar, even the sound of her voice, but I was drawing a blank as to who she might be.
“Whatare you doing here?” she asked again, like she owned the mountain and I was trespassing on her property.
I hesitated, confused by the question. “Uh . . . trying to help you?”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
I didn’t understand why she was suddenly cold as an iceberg when I was trying to make sure she was okay. “I don’t know what’s going on here or who you think I am, but you’ve definitely got the wrong guy.”
Her laugh was borderline hysterical. “One never forgets the person who ruined their life,Filo.”
There were only two people in my life who had ever called me by my last name. My soccer coach in high school, and—
I studied her face.
Wait a minute . . .
“Zoe?” I said.
“As if you didn’t know,” she spat.
The last time I had laid eyes on her was over a decade ago. Back then, her hair was a vibrant electric purple that barely reached her neck, and she’d sported a nose ring. But as I gazed upon her now, time had certainly transformed her into a modern-day goddess. Her sandy blonde tresses flowed well past her shoulders.
It was like night and day.
Even the nose ring was gone—so it wasn’t a surprise I didn’t immediately recognize her. What was astonishing was that we were there in the middle of nowhere, together, years after that unfortunate event.
This is a coincidence . . . not fate.
There was no doubt in my mind that Zoe still hated me for what had happened at the culinary institute. Not that I blamed her, as the guilt of it all had been my daily companion for many years.
“Who do you think you are, showing up in my life again like this?” Zoe asked.
“I’m the person who is going to get you to a hospital to get checked out,” I said, trying to be the bigger person and not get into an argument with her.
Zoe winced. “I bumped my head. I can handle it. I’m fine.”
“You're not fine,” I insisted. “It’s as plain as day that you’re disoriented. You could have a concussion. You need to see a doctor to be on the safe side. I’ve had a concussion before, and that’s not something you mess around with. Plus, there is no signal, your truck is broken, and you can’t stay here surrounded by wild, hungry bears who are looking for potatoes with a side of human.”
Zoe crossed her arms over her chest, her expression stubborn. Her bottom lip did that poke out thing I remembered from school—she was hunkering down for a fight.