“Yeah, so? I can do what I want.”
“Just making sure…you didn’t send them to anyone else, did you?”
“I’m not stupid, Jane. I know I’m a public figure. When I want to send boob pics, I only send them to you, so they’re going to nobody.”
Nobody. She bit her lip remembering Lars’s words on the drive to Gardiner from the airport when they first met. Means you’re somebody, I guess. Her heart twisted, thinking of him.
“Sebastian’s picking you up in the morning, Sara. You’re—”
“SAMARA, Jane.”
“Of course, Samara. You’re going to be ready at eight, right? Do you want me to call you to wake you—?”
“I hate traveling with Sebastian,” she pouted. “He’s so annoying.”
“Well, Ray will be with you too.”
“Whatever. Ray hates me. He’s your friend.”
Ray Cartier was only Sara’s makeup artist because he was the best, which was the only reason Sara put up with his subtle digs. Jane adored Ray.
“I want my Laney,” she whined. “The rest of you are no fun. This sucks.”
“Your whole team wants the best for you. I’m sure Laney will be better by the time you get home.”
“Don’t try to change the subject, Jane. I want the cowboy.”
“Do what you want, Samara.” You always do.
“Jaaaanie…I know you didn’t mean to send me those pictures. They were re-titled. ‘Lars’ and ‘Lars Smiles’. I know you, Jane. I know your type and he’s it. I’m sure you’ve been making an ass out of yourself following him around.” She paused, chuckling lightly. “But we both know…Sun’s coming out tomorrow, Plain Jane. You know what they say about the sun.”
Ben’s words returned to Jane, and she winced. I’m blinded to anything but the sun…
“Travel safe, Samara. See you tomorrow.” She managed to whisper the words before pressing the red end button on her phone. She threw it across the room and watched it bounce twice on the bed before clunking onto the carpeted floor. Then, she curled up in the chair where she was sitting next to her laptop, feeling the heaviness, the oppressive dread, return.
Tomorrow he will belong to her.
Her stomach was empty, but the thought of Lars with Sara made her stomach muscles contract and she retched bile into her mouth.
I’ll quit, she thought frantically, wincing as she swallowed back the acid. I’ll call her back and quit and tell her to shove this crap job up her million-dollar ass. I’ll catch the next flight out of here. I’ll go back to San Francisco and take pictures. I’ll – I’ll –
And where will you go for Christmas, Jane? For Thanksgiving? Who will walk you down the aisle one day? The old, familiar voice whispered the old, familiar questions, stopping her thoughts cold. You don’t know a soul in San Francisco. You haven’t kept up with your college friends in Boston. Who will you have in your life? Ray? Sebastian? They’re all in Sara’s pocket. They’ll turn their backs on you the moment you walk. Face it. You have no one. You’ll be alone, Jane. Utterly and completely alone.
You’re. Not. Going. Anywhere.
Her eyes filled with tears at the unfairness of it, and she brushed them away. She had seen Lars first. He had liked her first. He had kissed her first.
She took a shaky breath, running her fingers through her springy curls, picturing his face in her mind, his hand laced through hers, his lips slanting across hers. After tonight, she would lose him.
After tonight. After.
“Not yet, Sara,” she whispered raggedly. “You can’t have him until tomorrow.”
***
Lars had recently heard chatter about a mama grizzly and her two cubs getting a little close to the road near the north part of Lower Hayden where the Lindstroms often took their groups on day hikes, and he wanted to be sure he steered clear of her territory with hikers. But he also considered that knowing her routes would give him an opportunity to find viewing points for watching her. People would pay insane amounts of money to see a grizzly in her natural habitat, so he headed out on Monday morning to take a look around.
Unlike most days, when he was keenly aware of the park around him, he was distracted today. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so much anticipation looking forward to a date. Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he went on a conventional date.
When Erik still lived in Gardiner, they would go out on impromptu double dates with women just in town visiting the park—generally set up by Erik—and every other night felt like a party with the “Park Girls.” That’s what Lars and his brothers called the women who came to Yellowstone on vacation looking for a little something extra to spice up their adventure vacation. Women on tours, groups of friends coming to hike and sightsee, even women like Jane who came for work. They’d have the Park Girls back to their apartment or hang out at their hotel. The summer months were a seemingly endless parade of available women. He and Erik had pursued these short-lived flings like playboys, and enjoyed every minute drinking beers and bed-hopping with pretty girls.
But Erik had headed up to Great Falls for college about three years ago and married Katrin last fall. Nils was in love with Maggie but wouldn’t do anything about it, he was so busy working and sucking up to their father. Paul had been crazy about Lars’s sister Jenny for years so he never did much carousing anyway, but lately he was on his laptop all the time talking to some chick in Connecticut; besides, he was the principal at the high school—bars and girls weren’t his thing. Surrounded by friends and family who had all at once decided to grow up, Lars was starting to feel his age too, and when he thought of his three small nieces, he had to admit the idea of settling down and having a family of his own had appeal.
The problem with settling down, though, was two-fold.
First, he couldn’t think of any girls who lived in Gardiner who were potential marriage material. The permanent population of the entire town was only 720 people, and Lars knew every one of them.
The single, eligible, legal-aged women could practically be counted on one hand, with Maggie leading the pack. But Maggie and Nils were just a matter of time, and Lars didn’t see Maggie like that anyway. There was Ms. Phillips, the church secretary at Grace Church, but she had to be in her mid-forties, and she was always talking about her shingles, which, frankly, grossed Lars out. There used to be Missy at the Blue Moon, but even she had found someone and moved away to Billings. And sure, there were a few other girls in Gardiner who he knew and a few divorcees, who were always on the lookout for their next “Mr.,” but none of them exactly got his heart beating faster; none of them was the next Mrs. Lindstrom.
That left the Park Girls. But the Park Girls were transient, weekenders even, and he didn’t imagine Gardiner out of season was enough to induce many of them to stay. To stay in Gardiner, you’d have to be looking for a small town—a small town on the outskirts of a very large park—and who was looking for that? A botanist? A naturalist? Maybe an artsy type like an author or a painter, but Lars imagined they’d be transient too, because the artistic types always went back to the big cities for the galleries and museums.