Chapter 11 Brynn
“I’ll be right back,” I heard Sebastian tell Orly, and then Orly climbed back into his seat.
I was still facing the back, but I turned around and sat as Orly mused, “Golly, that’s a cute dog. Reminds me of this terrier
we had when my kids were little. ‘Blueberry,’ they named him.” He tilted his head to look at me. “You know... since our
name’s ‘Hill.’” He shrugged and faced front again and locked his seat belt back into place. “Have you always been allergic?”
“Yeah.” I scooted over and situated myself so I could see my reflection in the rearview mirror. I pulled back my jacket and
lowered my sweater collar a little. My neck was red, alright, but I was pretty sure that was just from all the scratching.
How warm I had gotten from all the activity and concern didn’t help.
I yanked my jacket off, but that wasn’t enough. “Do you mind if I roll this down?” I pointed to the driver’s side window.
“I got it.” Orly undid his seat belt again and leaned over.
“Thanks.”
There was a feeling that I’d never experienced anywhere else that accompanied certain winter and early spring days in the
mountains of Colorado. At night, you’d freeze. Not figuratively. You’d literally freeze. Sometimes the temperature would drop
down to single digits, with a windchill of negative eighty-four—or so it seemed. But once the sun came up, it felt like summer.
I’d kind of forgotten that, but I certainly remembered it now.
“I didn’t pack properly,” I muttered, pushing up my sleeves as some cool air finally began to hit me.
Orly chuckled and rolled his window down some too. “Yeah, this is weird.”
There’s a reason the unofficial uniform of Colorado mountain-town youth is a hoodie, shorts, and a pair of Birkenstocks. As
you get older, the more mature uniform can be described in one word: layers .
We sat in silence until Orly asked, “Did you manage to finish off some breakfast?”
I nodded. “Yeah. No thanks to our chauffeur, of course.”
“I think that was the first time I ever had a real breakfast burrito. Life changing, man. Life changing.”
“Life changing, huh?” I settled into the corner of the back seat and stretched my legs across the midway point. “Aren’t tortillas
and meat and eggs and all that pretty much the same the world over?”
His head snapped toward me. “Are you kidding me right now, Cornell? You mean to tell me you’ve found a place to get a breakfast
burrito like that in the Garment District and you’ve been keeping it to yourself?”
I laughed. “Okay, maybe not.” I thought about the flavors. “It’s the green chile. It’s like salt out here. It’s in absolutely
everything.”
“No complaints here.” Orly turned back around. “No, ma’am. You will not hear me complaining.” He released a sigh . . . probably still thinking about the burrito. “Jo seems like a great lady.”
My eyes widened. “ You call her Jo?”
“Should I not? She told me to.”
“I’m sure it’s fine. Just... odd. Odd to hear, I mean. She was my teacher for a lot of years, so I’m not sure I’ll ever
be able to call her anything but Mrs. Stoddard.”
My phone chimed from my pocket, and I lifted my hips a bit to be able to slide my hand in to pull it out. They’d been skinny
jeans to begin with. Starting the morning with more carbs than I usually consumed in the course of three days hadn’t helped,
that was for sure.
I read the text. From Colton. To both of us.
“The boss texted,” I informed Orly, and he dug out his own phone from the inside pocket of his coat.
How’s it going? Getting some good stuff? Have you won them over yet?
“How should we reply to that one?” Orly asked with a laugh. “I can never interpret the tone in texts. I mean, we’ve only been
here a few hours. He’s kidding, right?”
Was he? It seemed ludicrous now, of course, to think of having made any significant dent in what we were here to do. Especially
considering the only person I’d encountered from my previous life was Mrs. Stoddard, who had made it very clear from moment
one that she wasn’t at all happy to see me. And based on the reception I’d received from my only new acquaintance, it seemed
pretty safe to assume Adelaide Springs wasn’t planning to roll out the red carpet and give me the key to the city.
But was Colton joking? I really had no idea. I think I’d imagined it would all progress better than it was. I would have sworn—in fact, maybe I did swear to him?—that it wouldn’t take me any time at all to get back into their good graces. Once again, jumping into action
without adequately considering the consequences could sometimes be a risk.
Then again, how much of the lack of progress was completely out of my control? All of it, probably. If I’d had the opportunity
to interact with some people last night rather than being unceremoniously dumped at the inn. Or if the dog could have been
squared away before the day began...
Yeah, it was pretty clear who was standing in the way of progress.
It was one thing for him not to help me along. For him to be rude and to make his feelings and disapproval known. It was one
thing for him to be completely insignificant, as I believed him to be when the day began. But since then? I couldn’t get a
good read on him. I hadn’t been able to shake the way Mrs. Stoddard looked to him. The way she course-corrected based on his
guidance.
Oh, and then let’s not forget the casual way he shared information about little Jake Morissey and his wife. Their kids. He
talked like a local who actually knew the people in this town. He talked like he was one of them.
But when it came right down to it, none of that mattered. What mattered was that he was once again standing in the way of
what I had come there to do. There was no reason whatsoever why Orly and I should be stuck roasting in an ugly metal heap
on the most unappealing plot of land on the entire Colorado Western Slope when we could have been filming irresistible footage
of me winning them all over.
I pulled up my knees and bolted through the space between the seats and pushed on the horn three times. “What’s taking so long?” I called out to Sebastian—maybe just to the whole disappointing world in general—through the open window.
“Brynn!” Orly looked around to see if anyone was around, which of course they weren’t. Sebastian’s property made the middle
of nowhere feel like the epicenter of somewhere. All the same, he was embarrassed of me, if the way he covered his face and
sank down in his seat was any indication.
“What? He’s making my already difficult job impossible, and I’ve just about had it with him.”
Finally, the front door of his house opened. “Hold your horses, Brenda!” Sebastian shouted from the doorway, still holding
that blasted dog.
Oh no, he did not.
He shut the door and went back inside, leaving me to gape after him in shock. Of all the self-righteous, rude, insufferable
people I had met in my life—and yes, I’m looking at you, Julie Andrews—Sebastian Sudworth topped the list.
“That’s it.” I huffed as I sat back in the seat again. “I’m done with this guy.” I pulled up Colton’s message on my phone
again and began typing, saying the words aloud to Orly as I did.
We got stuck with this impossible tour guide who is out to sabotage the whole thing. Prepared to handle it myself, of course,
but am thinking it might be best if you made a call. We’ll never get anywhere with this guy. Tried to make it work, but he’s
crossed the line.
“Um, I don’t know that I’d send that if I were you.” Orly’s words seemed laced in urgency, so I tried to see his side of it.
“Fine.” I began typing onto the end of the message, still reading aloud.
Probably best if they don’t know I said anything.
“No, Brynn!” Orly laughed nervously and adjusted his body toward me again. “You can’t send that. I know you don’t like him,
but trust me, you don’t want to—”
With defiance I raised my phone for him to see and hit Send. “Done.”
“Oh, Brynn.” He shook his head and lowered it. “Are you ever going to stop self-sabotaging your career?”
“ Excuse me?”
Our phones dinged again, and we both looked down.
Sorry to hear that. Orly, what are your thoughts?
Orly grimaced. I, meanwhile, felt like the air had been knocked out of me. No offense to Orly. I really liked Orly. But what
did Orly’s opinion on this matter have to do with anything?
“Great. Now look at the position you’ve put me in. What am I supposed to say to that?”
I threw my hands up in the air. “Whatever you want. Clearly I’m at fault here, though I don’t have the foggiest idea why,
so say what you want. I really don’t care.” I lowered my hands and crossed my arms as I reclined in the seat again. My posture
was the perfect epitome of not caring. I could not possibly have cared less. See? See how much I don’t care? “You and Colton work it out. I don’t care.” Nope. Didn’t care one bit.
He studied me for a few seconds and then shook his head. “Fine.” He began typing, but he didn’t give me the courtesy I had
given him of narrating as a heads-up.
And he texted soooo slowly. Seriously. I was tempted to honk the horn again just to get him to hurry things along. And maybe I would have, if not for the fear of being called Brenda again.
Hey, Colton. This is Orly. I agree that these two haven’t exactly been hitting it off. But you should know that the “tour
guide” is Sebastian Sudworth. I’m not sure it would be a good idea to cause a ruckus. That’s just my opinion, and I will respect
your decision.
“I’m sorry I had to disagree with you like that to Colton.”
Orly’s voice sounded pained, but I hadn’t yet managed to look up to see if the expression matched the tone. I was too busy
trying to make sense of it all in my mind. Unable to vocalize the questions and confusion in my head, and fascinated by the
reply that had popped up immediately on Colton’s end.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME???
I barely had time to read the brief—but incredibly emphatic—response before my phone rang. I looked up at Orly, whose big,