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I gripped my chair, unable to breathe. Surely this couldn’t bemyPatrick. My biggest regret.
“He’s overseeing the new medical spa near the ski resort,” George added.
It was being billed as a healing spa, but we all knew that meant it was going to be a place for the rich and famous to get “medical” procedures they didn’t want advertised, as in plastic-surgery-type procedures. That meant there was a better than likely chance the Patrick Abbott George spoke of could indeed be the man I had done my best to forget.
I pushed my chair back. “Excuse me.”
I SAT ON MY BEDin the room Charlotte and I shared, at least for the next month. I stared aimlessly out into space, trying not to hyperventilate. That dang George. He knew. I knew he knew. I just didn’t know how. But what I did know was I couldn’t see Patrick again, not after what I had done, or not done. The memory of our last night together twenty years ago flooded my mind. The heated kisses, the promise I’d made and then broke. Then I thought about his wife, Nina. My heart ached knowing my friend was gone. It was all I could do at the table not to shed a tear about it. What had happened to her? Yes, Nina and Patrick married, that much I knew. How it came about, I didn’t know. I could never ask my friend. Nina actually begged me not to come to the wedding. Not that I would have. I don’t think I could have watched him marry another woman, although I was engaged at the time myself. Her note along with their wedding announcement rang in my head:Please, don’t come. I don’t want Patrick to ever see you again.
Charlotte opened the door and peeked her pretty head in. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t even sure if I could speak.
Charlotte rushed to my side and sat next to me, taking my hand. “Izzy, what’s wrong? Do you know Patrick Abbott?”
Oh, I knew him alright. I thought of all our time in the hot tub together. Little had been left to the imagination. More than that, I thought of all our late-night talks where secrets were shared and souls bared.
“Charlotte,” I agonized, “he can’t stay here.”
“Did he hurt you?” She squeezed my hand.
“No. I hurt him.” That’s what Nina had said—you know, before she started a relationship with him. I hadn’t even known she liked him. It probably didn’t matter anymore. I was sure he had forgotten all about me by now. But try as I might, I could never forget about him.
Her eyes bugged out. “What do you mean? You could never hurt anyone. Well, maybe Drake.” She nervously giggled.
I gave a her a small smile. I had gotten some pleasure from thinking about maiming him a time or two. “It’s not that kind of hurt, Char.”
“Oh. Is he the man you never want to tell me about? The one who gave youthe kiss?”
I nodded, desperately trying not to think of his kisses. Kisses that set my soul on fire and told me things I wasn’t ready to hear. Things I ignored, which to this day I regretted.
Charlotte’s big blue eyes brightened. “This is good, then.”
“How?” I questioned, desperately wanting to know.
“The inn is calling him.”
I fell back on the bed and curled into myself. “Please, don’t start in on that. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence. Besides, we haven’t told him he could stay here.” Nor would we. It was the least I could do for my dead friend. She didn’t want Patrick to ever see me again. I would grant her that wish. “And I would bet if he knew we owned the place, he wouldn’t want to come here.”
Charlotte lay next to me. I could tell she wanted to disagree with me, but instead she said, “Tell me about him.”
I grabbed one of my pillows and squeezed the life out of it. “Oh, Char,” I choked out. I wasn’t sure I could talk about him. I’d done my best to suppress my memories, even if I couldn’t forget him. And what good would it do now to speak of him? I’d lost my chance with him a long time ago.
Charlotte smoothed my hair. “It might make you feel better.”
“Uh-huh; you know you’re more curious than a cat,” I teased her.
“Maybe,” she sang. “But I know you’re holding on to something and it’s hurting you. That, I can’t stand. You’re my favorite sister.” She grinned.
“I’m your only sister.”
“Even if you weren’t, you’d still be my favorite. You helped make all my dreams come true,” she said sincerely.
“I still half rue the day I told Drake he could stay here.” I nudged her.
“Half is good progress. But I know deep down you like him. I saw you smile at him earlier, when he and Jameson were wrestling on the floor with Fiona.”
Fiona was the dog Charlotte bought Jameson to ease her guilt for lying to him most of his life about the origin of his birth. She’d told him the fireworks made him and his dad was Uncle Sam, on account of him being born on the Fourth of July. If the kid doesn’t grow up a little messed up after that, I’ll be surprised. Like I said, it’s a good thing Drake can pay for some serious therapy.
