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When Allie made it on the high school newspaper the next year—something Meredith had also applied for and been declined—she knew it was only a matter of time. With Allie and Sam working on the school newspaper together, it was inevitable she’d win him over as she did everyone. She’d get the boy and the position on the paper that Meredith had wanted. So in a pique of fourteen-year-old jealousy and resentment, Meredith had made up a story about how she’d hooked up with the cute jock at the latest party.
It had broken Allie’s heart. Earning Meredith a brief moment of satisfaction that later only turned bitter in her mouth as she reaped the fruits of that lie. Sure, she was even more envied by the girls inside and outside the freshman class, and desired by boys of all classes, but she’d also lost her one true best friend.
Meredith still didn’t know exactly why she’d done it. Sam hadn’t slept with her. Never even paid attention to her back then. Which drove her insane. But she’d spread the rumor and, to this day, had never come clean.
Who would admit to making up a story that made them the school slut anyhow?
And then Sam came back to town, nearly ten years later, even more good-looking than he’d once been. And sure, Meredith might not have been looking for an emotional connection or a happily ever after with the man—because, really? Was there such thing? Definitely not for her—but a little conversation with someone like Sam would have been welcome.
Meredith caught the small, grateful smile Allie shared with Claire, and felt a pang of envy.
“Claire’s right about having more than enough food,” Allie said. “We have fruit salad and crackers, along with a variety of cheeses, homemade chocolate chip cookies, and salt and vinegar potato chips. And thanks to Rick, we have a dozen sandwiches to choose from. They’re from that new Italian deli downtown.”
“No, but thanks—” Meredith started but was interrupted by Rick
, who had been crouched on the blanket digging through a cooler.
“I insist. We have more than enough. Ten minutes. You’ve got to eat, right?” He stood up, a handful of wrapped sandwiches in his hands. He smiled. Seemingly innocent. Friendly.
Except for the brief moment his eyes dropped to her boobs before returning to her face.
She wanted to hit him.
Travis was more courteous. “We’ll grab a couple.”
“Italian club okay?” he directed toward Travis, who nodded and opened his hands and caught the sandwich tossed to him.
“And Meredith, I have a turkey with light mayo on a whole wheat bun.” Rick held it out to her, his smile almost daring her to deny him.
Short of insulting him and everyone there, she didn’t see any option but to take it. His fingers grazed the underside of her hand—intentionally, she was certain—and she almost dropped the sandwich as she flinched.
Travis plopped down on the blanket and took a bite. At seeing Meredith still standing, trying to decide who to squeeze in by, he slid a couple of feet to the right and patted the area he’d just left. She took a seat next to him on the blanket.
Only a hard object, likely a rock the size of a golf ball, was lodged under her butt.
Sensing Travis’s attention, she turned and found him grinning. “Everything okay, Mer?”
He knew of course what she was sitting on, probably expecting her to eviscerate him now with a stern reproach. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, she moved slightly to the right, so the length of her leg pressed against his.
His smile fell off his face.
Feeling the tiniest victory, she bit into her sandwich. Trying her best to ignore the near scorching heat at having his body so near hers.
Once again, her victory was short-lived.
…
Travis kicked his legs in front of him and unwrapped his sandwich. The shock of feeling her soft warmth had stunned him, but he thought he covered it well.
Meredith wiggled on the blanket next to him. He was certain she was going to make some comment about the rock she was undoubtedly sitting on, but miraculously she stayed silent, taking a baby bite of her sandwich.
“Allie and I spent this morning trying to figure out who that guy Bryce was talking about, who left midyear,” Claire said to Travis. “We got nothing. Jeremy—the principal—would have a better idea, but he and his wife have been in Italy the past couple of weeks. I sent him an email last night but haven’t heard back yet. Should be at the gala tomorrow night, though.”
“Have you two found out anything more?” Allie asked. “Maybe we can offer a new perspective.”
Meredith tensed next to him. “Nothing yet,” Travis drawled. “We’re looking at a string of other missing girls from the area. Seeing if there’s any connection.” When he didn’t add any further details, such as the possibly that Darcy was possibly part of a human trafficking enterprise that aimed to make her nothing more than a sex slave, Meredith relaxed again.
As a distraction from the new unease that had settled on them, Claire began a monologue about a particularly terrible tee-off resulting in some damage to a golf cart that soon had everyone laughing.
