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The diner looked like it was straight out of the nineteen fifties. Our server, a woman named Muriel, made some recommendations from the menu, a handwritten chalkboard over top of the open kitchen window. “I’ll have the burger and fries.” A salad wasn’t even an option, and I was thankful because, after my day of skiing, I was ravenous.
“Me too.” Chance smiled at Muriel.
Over dinner, we discovered that we had both taken courses at the same university. We lived one borough apart and both shopped at the same grocery store. My eyes were drawn to his, and after the first few glances, I let my gaze linger. So did he. He skied at the same puny little hill outside the city as me, and I wondered how we hadn’t run into each other before.
Muriel recommended the G-Spot’s signature dessert, a deep-fried pastry with cinnamon. “Perfect for sharing.” She’d smiled.
I glanced at Chance.
“I don’t think that we can pass on the G-Spot’s signature dessert. What do you think, Julia?”
It was warm in the diner, but when my name came out of Chance’s mouth, I think that I melted into the Formica bench seat. “I’m game if you are.”
I would’ve stripped naked and gone on a polar bear plunge with Chance if he’d asked. I was on vacation and I felt like a different person, the kind of person who took risks. Why couldn’t I be wild Julia when I was away from the city?
The dessert didn’t disappoint and Donny was waiting outside the gas station slash convenience store slash diner when we emerged three hours later.
Tension hung heavily between us in the shuttle. This time, we sat side by side, and it was impossible, but I could feel the heat coming off Chance’s body through my thick down coat. As the shuttle crossed the covered bridge and headed up the switchbacks to the mountain, I heard Christina’s voice in my head and I cursed myself for not wearing the lacy undies.
If the tension was heavy in the shuttle, it was even heavier in the elevator. The two buttons for our floors lit and as we neared his, I wondered if I should get out with him. Our jackets made a swishing sound as we stood close enough for our sleeves to brush together as the elevator rumbled up through the floors of the hotel.
I held my breath as we reached Chance’s floor. “This is me,” he said quietly and stood in the opening, the door bumping his arm as he hesitated. “Thank you for the…” He paused, seemingly lost for words. Was he going to say date? “Dinner and Beaver Tail.”
A smile spread across my face and I stepped closer to him. I wasn’t crazy. We had been flirting all night, and there were so many similarities in our lives, it seemed as though we were destined to meet. We could’ve met at any one of many places in the city, but it took a winter storm and delayed flights and a hotel across the country for us to finally come together.
“Julia,” Chance whispered.
“Yes.” I inched closer.
“Would you like to meet to go skiing tomorrow?”
The door banged against his arm and the elevator dinged impatiently. He stepped into the hallway but held the door at bay with his hand. The moment was gone. We weren’t going to rush into his room in a flurry of kisses, ripping wildly at each other’s clothes.
Silly Julia. We weren’t even going to kiss.
Had I imagined everything?
Sure. I stepped back, crossing my arms. “My lesson is done at three.”
He nodded and extended his hand. A fucking handshake. “See you at the top of the mountain at three.”
I gulped. “Three.”
As the doors closed, I could’ve sworn I heard him say my name. Tears stung in my eyes as I cursed myself for being such a fool. It had been dinner with a kind stranger, not some true-fated love bullshit.
The next day I didn’t have the chance to find out if Chance showed up at the top of Sugar Peaks at three o’clock. I also didn’t have the chance to decide if I was going to show up either. On the last run of the day, when I was flip-flopping for the forty millionth time about whether or not to catch the chairlift to the top, the mountain took care of the decision for me. And broke my ankle.
And I never heard from Chance Powers again.
ChapterFive
We were walking back to my house, tipsy from the wine when I finished telling Serena the story about the man I’d met ten years earlier.
“That’s so weird,” she mused.
“I felt like a fool. I must have imagined everything,” I sighed, my cheeks pink from the cold air and the Chardonnay.
“What makes you say that?” Serena linked her arm through mine. “I’ll bet you he felt everything you did, but he was nervous.”
