She had blisters.
Jess slid onto a bench in one of the Cherry Pit Diner’s
red vinyl booths, and under the Formica table, kicked off
her high heels. Her throbbing toes and raw skin thanked
her as she ordered a coffee.
While she hadn’t expected the job hunt to be easy, and it
was too soon to be discouraged, the reality was far worse
than expected.
First thing that morning, she’d driven to a consignment
store in Polson on the last of her gas. She’d considered
it a test run, and therefore, only took a few things with
her so she could learn the ins and outs of bargaining.
Her plan was to try out three different stores and
compare the experiences. The little she’d gotten for her
barely worn clothing and shoes made her want to curl up
in a ball of despair. At least it was enough to pay for
lunch without having to count out the pennies. She’d also
bought some jeans and t-shirts, and a pair of sneakers.
She planned to fill her gas tank later on, too.
After lunch, she’d headed back to Cherry Lake and begun
knocking on doors. The Montreau Hotel had seemed like a
good place to start. Big, elegant, and under renovation,
it housed the most upscale restaurant in Cherry Lake.
She’d eaten there many times over the years. Waitressing
in it for six months wouldn’t be a hardship. The menu had
limited options and her memory was excellent. Jess toyed
with the napkin dispenser. It turned out the current
manager’s memory was pretty good, too. She’d tried out
for cheerleading with Jess. Jess had made fun of her
weight in front of a few boys from the football team.
But Shanda White’s memory was hardly perfect. She’d
forgotten how she’d mocked Jess in English class when
Jess stumbled over an oral assignment and mangled a
simple pronunciation—maybe because Jess had laughed along
with everyone else. Her insides, however, had glowed red-
hot with shame. She’d hated that class.
In Shanda’s defense, Jess could look back and admit that
making fun of her heavy thighs at cheerleading tryouts in
retaliation was a bit like kicking a dog for a
transgression committed two days before. Neither one
could figure out what they’d done to deserve it. So this
time, Jess had gone out of her way to be friendly.
While Shanda, who still had fat legs and no sense of
style, had taken far too much pleasure in telling her the
restaurant was looking for staff with prior experience.
Now here Jess sat, in the sunny Cherry Pit Diner—a place
she’d never entered in all her eighteen years of living
here because her mother said it was “common”—nursing
bruised feelings and sore feet. The dinner crowd was
beginning to arrive and she was taking up valuable real
estate. She’d finish her drink, then fill up her gas tank
and head back to her grandfather’s.
And she resolved to be cheery when she reported her day.
I’m an actress. I’m an actress. That was her mantra. She
had food, clothing, and shelter. What more could she ask
for?
The bell over the door tinkled. She glanced up
automatically just as Damon walked in.
He wasn’t wearing coveralls today, but instead, a sky
blue Henley the color of his eyes that showed off every
ripped muscle in his broad upper torso. A faded pair of
jeans cuddled his thighs. He hadn’t looked like this back
in high school.
And he’d already been impressive enough.
She sank lower in her seat, her heart beating too hard,
hoping to go unnoticed. She couldn’t say why. Their first
awkward meeting was over. It was nothing to her one way
or the other if he spotted her now.
Except she’d dealt with enough of her past for one day.
His eyes skimmed over her, paused for a second, then
moved on as if her presence weren’t worth registering. He
strode to the lunch counter, where the stools were
filling up fast.
“A coffee to go,” she heard him say to the pretty
waitress behind the counter as he handed her a stainless
steel travel mug and a smooth, sexy grin.
Mercy.
That male self-assurance was new. While the Damon she’d
known had been well aware of the attention girls gave
him, this older, more mature version seemed to know what
to do with it. She wondered if he was married. He worked
with his hands so the absence of a ring was no real
indication. Judging by the waitress’s flirty smile in
return, and the way she blushed, Jess would have to guess
no. Not that it mattered.
He took the full travel mug from the girl and slid two
one-dollar bills across the counter. Then he started for
the door. Jess began to breathe easier. Halfway across
the room, he suddenly changed direction and headed
straight for her booth.
Just like that, she was back in Grade Twelve and the most
popular boy in school was paying attention to her.
Unfortunately, she’d been the mean girl.
“I see you’re still in town.” He looked at the empty
seats around her. “And you’re meeting up with all your
old friends.”
It was hard to take offense with his blue eyes sparkling
at her that way. He was trying to be funny, not unkind.
That had been her department, not his.
“Now that you’ve shown up, it’s like a high school
reunion,” she said.
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Is this the part where
we’re supposed to comment on how much we’ve both
changed?”
She rolled the half-empty coffee cup around in her hands.
One thing was definitely different about him. He didn’t
look at her the same way, anymore. There was no real
warmth in those eyes. No sincere admiration. Ten years
ago she’d taken him and his friendship for granted. She
hadn’t deserved him, and he had to know it. So why had he
stopped at her table?
Because, in spite of everything, he felt sorry for her?
Heat clawed at her cheeks. She didn’t want pity.
“I doubt you’ve changed all that much.” She hadn’t meant
for that to sound so…abrasive, but polite chitchat wasn’t
really her strength. She scrambled to soften her words.
“There wasn’t much about you that required any changing.”
“Everyone changes, Jess. People grow up and get smarter.
They learn to forgive and forget.” He glanced at his
watch, then rapped his knuckles on the Formica table as
if to signal their conversation was over. “Have fun while
you’re in town.”
He walked away, his broad back weaving a path through the
sprinkle of tables in the center of the crowded diner on
his way to the door. He paused a few times to speak to
some of the other patrons, his handsome face smiling and
friendly. He really hadn’t changed. He was as popular as
he’d ever been.
Envy pinched Jess’s insides. So did humiliation. He’d
taken the high road by stopping at her table to tell her
he’d gotten over that night long ago.
That pretty much meant he hadn’t.
The waitress came by to wipe the table and ask if she
needed anything else. What she really wanted was for Jess
to hurry along, so Jess handed over her almost-empty cup,
along with her money and a generous tip she couldn’t
really afford.
By the time she’d eased her tired feet into her shoes and
gathered her purse, Damon was long gone. Relief chased
disappointment. She’d planned to buy gas at his station
on her way home and now seemed like a good time. Since he
hadn’t been dressed for work, and that was a travel mug
he’d had in his hand, there was a good chance he wouldn’t
be there.
She tried not to think where he might be heading,
instead. What Damon Brand did with his evenings was none
of her business. She’d seen to that.