AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I turned to leave, but the front door jangled, indicating that someone had either walked in or out. I froze out of fear, praying one of the current guests was leaving. Then I heard, “Dude, is this where we’re staying? It looks like one of Bridgette’s old dollhouses.”
Bridgette? That was the name of Patrick’s daughter.
I gripped Charlotte, who was smirking. I was kind of impressed. I never thought she would be one for revenge. Dang, was she good at it.
“Thank you for that assessment, son,” a voice I would recognize anywhere responded. He sounded exhausted, but his tone still had that smooth-yet-gravelly quality to it. In my mind I could hear him as clear as day, in the glow of Nina’s family Christmas tree after everyone had gone to bed for the night, say: “Isabelle, you are the best Christmas gift I’ve ever been given.”
Why didn’t I call him?
“It’s showtime.” Charlotte spun around. Wow. Perhaps I had rubbed off on her a little too much.
I watched Charlotte prance across the ballroom floor, like she was a princess, in her signature overalls. I looked down to make sure I was dressed. Somehow, I had forgotten getting ready for the day. I was grateful to find I was wearing a gray asymmetrical sweater, leggings, and boots. It wasn’t the cutest thing I owned, but at least I was clothed. I touched my hair, remembering it wouldn’t be tamed that morning so I was looking like I belonged in a rock video. You know, minus the rock-hard body. I worked out regularly, but things didn’t snap back the way they used to. Hence the push-up bra I was wearing.
I covertly hid behind a large blue spruce that glowed in hues of shimmering gold, with white poinsettia leaves interspersed throughout, while Patrick was surveying the parlor across the way. It was one of my favorite spots, complete with cozy couches and chairs, a perpetual fire burning in the fireplace, and shelves full of Charlotte’s and my favorite books. The mantel was decked out in dozens of candles and fresh pine boughs. I took particular interest in his lovely daughter, who was petite and graceful like her mother and clinging to his side. Patrick kept an arm around her. Perhaps he needed her comfort as much as she seemed to need his. His son, Rory, dressed in a hoodie and ripped jeans, looked less than impressed with our beautiful inn.
Patrick carried with him a distinguished air. Everything from the way he held himself with such confidence to his charcoal merino wool coat and designer jeans spoke to his station in life. Even if I had never met him before, I would know he was successful. More than that, he was still beautiful. I ached to touch his strong, stubbled jaw and look into his aqua eyes to see the goodness and unspoken pleas I once saw there, begging for me to give us a chance.
“Welcome,” Charlotte’s soprano voice chirped. “You must be the Abbott family.”
Patrick, along with his daughter, turned to greet my sister. He eyed her cautiously. “You must be Charlotte.”
Charlotte reached out her hand. “I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Patrick reluctantly took hers and shook it, albeit briefly. “I appreciate you making accommodations for us on such short notice.”
“It’s my and mysister’spleasure.”
Oh, was she getting good at being evil. It would appear the student had become the master. I would praise her one day for it, but today was not that day. All I could do was stand mesmerized by the beautiful family. It felt like a dream seeing Patrick in person again. While gazing at them, this overwhelming feeling came over me. I swore my soul screamed,This isthe thingyou came here for.I hugged myself. How could that be true?
“Isabelle,” Patrick croaked out my name like a diseased cough.
It was a punch in the gut. He used to say my name so beautifully. But what did I expect? I hurt him, and then he moved on to greener Nina pastures. Surely he was mourning her, and he probably thought of me as a tease and a lapse in judgment. I bet he thanked his lucky stars he didn’t get stuck with me.
“Is she here?” he seemed hesitant to ask.
Even from my vantage point, I could see Charlotte’s devious eyes light up. She was starting to scare me. “Oh, Izzy,” she called in her best lyrical Disney princess voice, but she was acting more like Maleficent.
I stood, debating my next move. Act like a coward or confront myself. It wasn’t really Patrick I had run from all those years ago. It was me. Me, who had never before backed down from anything or anyone. That weak moment had haunted me for a long time. And hadn’t I promised myself that one day I would tell Patrick what our time together meant to me? Whathemeant to me? He probably didn’t care, but for my own heart, I had to face him. I had to know if what we had was real or just a fling.
I stepped out from behind the pine tree. Patrick immediately lasered in on me.
I swallowed down twenty years’ worth of regret. “Hello, Patrick.”
I’M NOT SURE I HADever felt more awkward in my life than I did standing behind the check-in counter, trying not to stare at Patrick while Charlotte checked him in. I was doing a terrible job of it. My eyes kept landing on his lips. I knew I had promised to kiss his face off if we ever saw each other again and we weren’t married. I probably should have added in a clause for kids. Under the circumstances, it didn’t seem appropriate or welcome. Patrick hadn’t said a word to me—other than to whisperIsabelleafter I’d said hello. As quiet as it was, he said it just like I remembered, like it was the most beautiful word to escape his mouth. It seemed to have startled him, perhaps even angered him, as he coldly turned from me immediately after. Yet he kept stealing glances at me. His eyes seemed to land on my lips too, but judging by his grimace, I was pretty sure he was nonverbally communicating that he was releasing me from my obligation to kiss his face off. Can’t say I wasn’t disappointed. His lips looked as irresistible as ever. And something about him called to me even though he was obviously unhappy to see me again.
I should have been relieved that I received my answer. Patrick didn’t care for me. He probably never truly cared for me. It really was a fling, and I’d made the right decision not to contact him all those years ago. Yet, I felt not a drop of relief. What I did feel was confused and hurt. Could he not even spare me a few words, besides my name? Hadn’t we promised each other that no matter what happened between us, we would always be friends?
When I wasn’t staring at Patrick’s lips, I snuck glances at his children waiting out in the hall. Rory was bemoaning staying in such an ancient place. He wondered aloud if we even had Wi-Fi and indoor plumbing. Bridgette, on the other hand, studied the old pictures we had hanging in the hallway of George, Daisy, and the inn. She moved her head side to side and even smiled at the one of George and Daisy’s wedding. Though she looked like her mother, she was quieter and more reserved; a natural intelligence radiated from her. I had a weird ache to reach out to her. Undoubtedly, Patrick would not approve of such an act. But she reminded me so much of Nina. I longed to know what had happened to my old friend.
“Checkout is December twenty-first.” Charlotte handed back his credit card. “I hope that’s not an inconvenience for you,” she added nervously.
I wanted to nudge her, reminding her she needed to behave normally. We were closing the inn to any nonfamily guests beginning that day. In our system, we appeared booked through Christmas. More like we would be hosting the insane asylum. Our extended family was a little odd, to say the least. Even our parents could be considered colorful. Our mom went byseximimion Instagram, if that explained anything. Don’t get me wrong—we loved our parents and we needed Mom to come. She was making the cake. She’d been making wedding cakes for people as a side business for years. She was in a dither to make one for the star-studded event. Dad had mentioned on the phone last night that she’d made business cards to hand out to all of Drake’s Hollywood friends. I would be embarrassed about it later.
The lengths we were going to, trying to smuggle in our family and friends, were insane. We were making our parents fly into Salt Lake City and drive the five hours here, just in case. All Drake’s friends were staying at the various ski resorts in the valley and in Jackson Hole. Said friends had to sign nondisclosures. Family members were sworn to secrecy regarding the wedding of the decade. I wondered daily if we could pull it off. I wasn’t all that optimistic, but Charlotte would remind me that Jennifer Aniston had kept her marriage to Justin Theroux a secret. I hated to tell her that TMZ had photos of that wedding.
Patrick cocked his head. “According to George, no one else has ever booked the suite.”
Charlotte’s cheeks pinked. “Technically, that’s true. It’s just ... um ... well ... uh. Do you need to stay longer?” she floundered.
