the chiffon ruffles like pompoms while her stare remained fixed and unwavering. She must have said something, because Jason’s head turned in her direction. My heart dropped to my stomach when he smiled and took her hand in his.
The music started again, and Tricia wrapped herself around Jason, forcibly spinning him so he couldn’t see me. She returned my sneer and tightened her grip on his shoulders. The message was crystal clear: He’s all mine now.
My social inabilities came into sharp focus while watching Tricia effortlessly match Jason’s movements. I couldn’t dance, wasn’t much for small talk, and stuck out like a weed in the garden of beautiful people twirling in front of me. Jason was obviously accustomed to floating in high-class circles—what could possibly have possessed me to think I could keep up with him?
I sighed, sad but sure the fantasy was over. Behind me, the bar tempted, but my head was still buzzing from my last drink. With a four-hour drive ahead of me, I couldn’t risk any more alcohol. I enjoyed the view of Jason’s broad shoulders instead—until Tricia brought her face to his ear. Her long hair hid the contact, but I doubted she was giving him stock quotes. He stiffened; apparently her ministrations were having the desired effect. Without another thought, I grabbed my purse and headed for the nearest door.
Outside, the breeze had turned cold, ushering in the summer fog. “June gloom,” the locals called it—a name that fit my mood exactly. Hugging myself, I couldn’t help but wish other arms were protecting me from the chill.
Stop it. Wake up, already! So I’d had a nice little daydream and a quick—albeit steamy—conversation. That didn’t mean I had any feelings for Jason. Then why do I feel like I just lost something precious?
With a start I realized I’d wandered into the garden where the reception had started—and where I’d run into Ron the first time. Remembering his evil face and frightening grip, I whirled around, thankful to find myself alone. I hugged my purse tightly, keeping my only weapon close at hand. Hopefully he’d crawled back under his rock; all my protectors were quite out of reach.
The path I followed wound between tidy flowerbeds and neatly trimmed topiaries, but their manicured beauty did nothing to ease the stormy ache inside me.
Infatuation—that’s it. Nothing more. I’d stamped this Prince Charming image on a man I didn’t know—a man I’d never know. In a few hours I’d make the long drive home, and he’d be a fleeting memory. Mitch had graduated, Jason would go back east, and I wouldn’t have contact with either one of them ever again. This cold shower of reality washed away the last vestiges of my fantasy like so much dirt off Jason’s shiny shoes. Prince Charming could only be happy with a princess, not with me.
Pangs of sorrow rippled through my chest. I squeezed myself tighter, trying to crush the memories of how Jason had briefly touched me, teased me, kissed my cheek. My eyes burned in the icy wind.
Stop being such a wuss ! He could be a psychopathic killer for all I knew.
The brick wall at the end of the garden halted my march. The view of the waves crashing fifty feet below should have been awe-inspiring, but apathy was the best I could muster. In the distance, Catalina was slowly becoming shrouded in fog—disappearing, just like Jason would. I rested my arms on the waist-high barrier as I tried to erase the dramatic drivel in my head. I should be happy I’d met him at all.
The sounds of the party drifted out to me. Some friend I was, whimpering in the dark when I should be celebrating this huge milestone in Mitch’s life. The music inside changed to a lively country song—one of his favorites—but all I could think about was Tricia rubbing herself all over Jason.
I vowed with a shaky breath that I wouldn’t cry. Mitch had found that elusive joy only a soul mate
The music started again, and Tricia wrapped herself around Jason, forcibly spinning him so he couldn’t see me. She returned my sneer and tightened her grip on his shoulders. The message was crystal clear: He’s all mine now.
My social inabilities came into sharp focus while watching Tricia effortlessly match Jason’s movements. I couldn’t dance, wasn’t much for small talk, and stuck out like a weed in the garden of beautiful people twirling in front of me. Jason was obviously accustomed to floating in high-class circles—what could possibly have possessed me to think I could keep up with him?
I sighed, sad but sure the fantasy was over. Behind me, the bar tempted, but my head was still buzzing from my last drink. With a four-hour drive ahead of me, I couldn’t risk any more alcohol. I enjoyed the view of Jason’s broad shoulders instead—until Tricia brought her face to his ear. Her long hair hid the contact, but I doubted she was giving him stock quotes. He stiffened; apparently her ministrations were having the desired effect. Without another thought, I grabbed my purse and headed for the nearest door.
Outside, the breeze had turned cold, ushering in the summer fog. “June gloom,” the locals called it—a name that fit my mood exactly. Hugging myself, I couldn’t help but wish other arms were protecting me from the chill.
Stop it. Wake up, already! So I’d had a nice little daydream and a quick—albeit steamy—conversation. That didn’t mean I had any feelings for Jason. Then why do I feel like I just lost something precious?
With a start I realized I’d wandered into the garden where the reception had started—and where I’d run into Ron the first time. Remembering his evil face and frightening grip, I whirled around, thankful to find myself alone. I hugged my purse tightly, keeping my only weapon close at hand. Hopefully he’d crawled back under his rock; all my protectors were quite out of reach.
The path I followed wound between tidy flowerbeds and neatly trimmed topiaries, but their manicured beauty did nothing to ease the stormy ache inside me.
Infatuation—that’s it. Nothing more. I’d stamped this Prince Charming image on a man I didn’t know—a man I’d never know. In a few hours I’d make the long drive home, and he’d be a fleeting memory. Mitch had graduated, Jason would go back east, and I wouldn’t have contact with either one of them ever again. This cold shower of reality washed away the last vestiges of my fantasy like so much dirt off Jason’s shiny shoes. Prince Charming could only be happy with a princess, not with me.
Pangs of sorrow rippled through my chest. I squeezed myself tighter, trying to crush the memories of how Jason had briefly touched me, teased me, kissed my cheek. My eyes burned in the icy wind.
Stop being such a wuss ! He could be a psychopathic killer for all I knew.
The brick wall at the end of the garden halted my march. The view of the waves crashing fifty feet below should have been awe-inspiring, but apathy was the best I could muster. In the distance, Catalina was slowly becoming shrouded in fog—disappearing, just like Jason would. I rested my arms on the waist-high barrier as I tried to erase the dramatic drivel in my head. I should be happy I’d met him at all.
The sounds of the party drifted out to me. Some friend I was, whimpering in the dark when I should be celebrating this huge milestone in Mitch’s life. The music inside changed to a lively country song—one of his favorites—but all I could think about was Tricia rubbing herself all over Jason.
I vowed with a shaky breath that I wouldn’t cry. Mitch had found that elusive joy only a soul mate
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