Chapter 12
VAL
“Here you go. One limited edition Never Summer,” Tess proclaimed as she placed the snowboard on the rental shop’s counter.
My jaw dropped. It was beautiful. Black deck, bright teal bindings.
Exactly what I’d always wanted. When I’d half-jokingly demanded a new board in exchange for being Nolan’s tour guide, this had been the one on the vision board in my room.
“This is mine?” I ran my hand across the whorls of cyan, cobalt, and midnight blue.
“Mr. Keller said to get you whatever you wanted, so I asked Frankie to do some recon.”
“That’s really nice of Arthur,” I said, my eyes glued to the masterpiece.
Tess posted her elbows on the counter, brambles of tight red curls cascading over her shoulders. “I’m not talking about that Mr. Keller. I’m talking about Nolan.”
My eyes shot up to hers. “Nolan did this? No manches. You can’t be serious.”
“He seems to have taken an interest in you.”
“You’d never know it, from the way he always cancels,” I deflected. And he’s engaged. But the feel of his lips moving against mine burned in my mind like a torch, guilt churning a maelstrom in my stomach.
Tess shrugged, showing me her palms. “Enjoy the new board. It’ll be a well-deserved reward for surviving the winter with that insufferable man.” Then she left me to my own devices.
As I swept my hands over the board, a frown tugged at my brow. I didn’t know what to make of it. I hadn’t seen Nolan since the incident a few days ago, but I was more than okay with that. I hadn’t even told Frankie about it, and I wasn’t sure if I would. I didn’t even know what I’d say.
Yeah, Nolan was being a jealous asshole about all the male attention I was getting at the bar, so we had a huge fight in his office and then we made out ferociously, and now all I can think about is how badly I want to do it again and the guilt is eating me alive.
Yeah. That would go over well. I’d never get Frankie to stop talking.
The kiss had been a colossal mistake. It could not happen again.
And—oh god, I was the other woman. The thought almost made me hurl.
That wasn’t who I was or who I wanted to be.
I didn’t do stuff like that. What the hell was wrong with me?
Interfering with his relationship was the last thing I wanted.
His searing-hot looks, the snowboard, the massage, the jealousy, the kiss…
all of it probably meant nothing. It had to mean nothing for my own sanity, no matter what the tabloids claimed about his failing engagement. And I would proceed as such.
Suddenly, the shrill ring of my phone pierced my racing thoughts.
“Diego, hey,” I said, scrubbing my hand over my face. “What’s up?”
“Antonella got out today.”
My body went slack, my phone nearly falling out of my hand. “Does she—is she—did she come by the house?”
My brother’s voice was tense. “She doesn’t know where we live now and we haven’t had contact with her since she went to prison the last time. But Juan’s still in the same school. I didn’t want to pull him out again since he’d just transferred before the Hal incident.”
I gripped the edge of the counter until wood chips splintered off into my hands. “How is Juanito?”
“He still thinks Antonella is sick and had to go for a long stay at the doctor’s.
” Aka, rehab. That would be our mom’s fourth time.
Being in prison, she’d had to get clean from heroin.
But there were other things she could get while inside.
Pills, opioids, whatnot. My blood boiled.
She’d never be clean, even if she stopped using. Her hands were forever bloodstained.
“She wasn’t supposed to get out yet,” I said. “How do you know?”
“She called from an unknown number and left a message.”
“Are you going to tell Juanito?”
“I’m already his legal guardian so there’s no reason Antonella needs to be involved.” Diego sighed, and I could imagine him pulling at his wavy hair. “I don’t want to shake up his life like that again. I don’t trust her, and I sure as fuck don’t trust Hal.”
“I agree. Do what you think is best for him. You always have. Juan is lucky to have you.”
“Juan is lucky to have us. Thank you for everything you do for him, mana. He’s too young to get it, but when he’s older, he’ll understand why you were away so much.”
Tears pricked at my eyes. Thinking of Juanito growing up without me there to experience each and every little moment or milestone made my heart crack. “The meds are still working?”
“Sí, mana. We’ve got it handled. Don’t worry so much. I love you.”
“I love you. Talk soon.”
I hung up, a boulder forming in my stomach.
Antonella was out of prison. If she went back to Sun Valley, she’d no doubt find my brothers, especially if Hal told her about Juan’s school.
An uneasy feeling threaded through my veins.
I hadn’t seen my mother since she was carted off to prison for illegal drug use and a DUI when I was eighteen.
Luckily, Diego had been home from college for his senior year spring break, so I hadn’t had to face the cops alone or handle a newborn Juanito by myself.
I’d gotten a scholarship to a program in sustainable food systems at the community college, but I’d deferred for two years to help raise Juanito.
With an aggravated sigh, I grabbed my new snowboard and headed to my room to gather myself before my cooking lesson with Nolan. This is all too much. A panic attack swirled in the back of my mind, an impending storm that would rupture in a deluge at any moment.
To de-escalate things, I lit a lavender candle, then collapsed onto the mountain of fluffy pillows on my bed, gluing my gaze to the cork board crammed with pictures.
A photo of my Never Summer that I’d printed from the internet, Inca terrace farms in Peru, lo’i kalo in Hawaii, massive rooftop hydroponic systems—my eyes traced them all like familiar friends.
My vision board. Reminders of what I wanted to do with my life.
If I could envision it, I could do it. Or that’s what I kept telling myself.
I often lacked the courage to take the plunge into the unknown because that required confidence in myself and that everything would be okay—two things my anxiety did not allow me to have.
I’d let so many of my dreams wither and wilt on the vine, always too afraid to grasp them.
With Antonella back out in the world, it sparked an old fuse of fear that I thought I’d dealt with years ago.
It reminded me of my failures, reminded me of how weak I’d been.
How weak and lost I still felt sometimes.
My vision board was a suggestion from my therapist as a way to subliminally encourage myself to go for my goals and believe in myself.
I didn’t know if it was working or not, but I did get my Never Summer.
Maybe one day, I would graduate from local volunteer at the farmers market to running my own farming operation. If I ever stopped being afraid.
But I put my anxious thoughts on hold—I could schedule time to have a good worry session later—and went to my small closet to inspect my limited wardrobe for something appropriate to wear tonight.
I had to get myself together. Seeing Nolan already scattered my wits enough; I didn’t need to go in there all pre-scrambled up.
No more tank tops, I decided. Not after the way he looked at me the other night.
But no long sleeves either, since we’d be cooking and I didn’t want to drag my sweater through sauce or have to constantly push up my sleeves all night.
Resting my head against the doorframe with a sigh, I resigned myself to my fate.
I had nothing to wear.
As if I’d summoned her, the door to my room burst open and Frankie blew in.
“A little birdie told me your not-so-secret admirer got you a brand-spanking-new Never Summer! You’d better watch out or Austin might get jealous.” With a devilish grin, Frankie plopped herself on my chair.
I pulled a black tee shirt from a pile, sniffed it with a frown, then threw it back. “Austin and I are just friends.”
Frankie snorted. “Yeah, Ryan and I are just friends too.” She rolled her eyes at the mention of her on-again, off-again fling with one of the maintenance guys.
When it wasn’t Ryan, it was Jerome or Nero.
I admired her confidence and ability to go for what she wanted.
I could use more of that in my life. “You do realize you’re beautiful and desirable, right?
And not just because you have two men chasing after you.
You’re those things—and more—all on your own. ”
I threw a stray pair of jeans at her but glowed at her compliment. “I do not have two men chasing after me.”
Frankie laughed, tossing my pants aside. “Here, let me help you. I’m sure you’ve been struggling to make up your mind for an hour.”
“It wasn’t an hour,” I protested, but she’d been pretty close, so I took her spot on the chair as she swiped through my meager clothes like the latest dating app.
“Are we going for super sexy or casual sexy?”
“How about zero sexy? Nolan’s engaged, and I’m not trying to have a repeat of the other night.”
Frankie whipped her head toward me with the speed of a fast-pitched softball. “The other night?”
Oh crap in a sack.
I cringed. “Um—”
Abandoning my hopeless closet, Frankie jammed her lithe body into the minuscule amount of space beside me, shoved her short black hair behind both ears like she meant business, and zeroed in on me. “What the fuck happened the other night, Val?”
“Well…” I caught her up on everything that had transpired between Nolan and I since he’d arrived. She took it all in, her eyes popping out of her head.
“And then we were in his office arguing, like he was jealous of me dating Austin or something, and then he grabbed me and kissed me and I kissed him back, and then my hand was in his belt somehow, but he pulled away and I’m a horrible person, Frank.
I’m the worst. I’m not a girl’s girl, I’m a saboteur. I’m—”
“Valeria Rosalinda Isabella López!” Frankie said, interrupting me with the Francesca Kang special—a hearty thwack on the arm.
“How dare you keep something this juicy from me!” Then she leapt to her feet, resuming her assault on my closet.
“I knew the tabloids were right about their engagement falling apart, and I swear I saw Cressida eyeing one of the ski instructors yesterday. So we are absolutely going super sexy tonight.”
Grumbling, I threw myself against the back of the chair. “Didn’t you hear anything I said? He’s engaged, and our boss, and this cannot happen.”
“I heard the part where you kissed him back and had enough time to attempt to rip his pants off.” She tossed a V-neck emerald top and a pair of dark wash fitted jeans at me. “Hurry up and get dressed. I’ll do your hair.”
I grumbled, but put on the outfit, tuning out the swelling anxiety. I liked when Frankie braided my hair, and I had to admit that her choice of wardrobe looked good on me.
This is just a work thing. A business meeting. A fun evening with Chef Rocco. I love Rocco, he’s a blast.
Everything will be fine, and there will be no more belt-grabbing.