Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Wednesday morphed into Thursday, then into Friday. By Saturday morning Rachel and Matthew had established a comfortable breakfast routine. Each morning they would meet at the bakery and grab their booth. Coffees, muffins, and friendly chats followed.
Rachel soon found herself getting out of bed earlier each morning and taking her time to do her hair and makeup. On Sunday morning, as she was looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, carefully applying her mascara, she realized what she was doing.
I’m dressing and putting on makeup to go and meet a man. And I feel good about it.
Today was the fifth day she and Matthew were catching up at the coffee shop. A small bubble of excitement bounced around in her belly.
This Aspen gig might turn out to be a gamechanger after all.
After dressing, she grabbed her jacket and cell, and snuck quietly out of the house. If Kellie and Dan were making a go of their marriage, it was only fair she gave them some weekend privacy .
In her former life, back in Georgia, Sunday used to involve elegant brunches with her parents at their private club. Long hours mingling with the elite of Atlanta society. Here in Colorado the simple pleasure of sharing coffee and muffins with a hot accountant held more appeal.
On her way to the Manhattan Escapee , she tapped a quick text to her sister.
Meeting friend for coffee. Back later to help clean the house. Love U.
At the bakery her happy morning mood ended in the parking lot. When Rachel arrived, she discovered there were people everywhere. A large blue and white travel coach was parked across several parking spaces out front of the bakery. She couldn’t see inside the cafe, but it was clear she and Matthew wouldn’t be getting their usual seat this morning.
Damn. We’ll be lucky if we can get food. I wish I had Matthew’s number so I could let him know.
She’d just turned away from the crowd, when a red Jeep SUV passed her on the road. It pulled up a few doors down from the bakery. A now familiar figure, dressed in a black puffer jacket and green scarf, stepped out and waved to her. Matthew made his way over.
“Apparently they are competing in some college ski comp,” he said, pointing at the bus. Rachel glanced back at the cluster of people milling around, drinking coffee, and eating. They were all so fresh faced. So young.
“When did we get old?” she sighed.
Matthew shrugged. “I don’t know. Last week I was eighteen, and this week I’m closing in on thirty one.”
“I’m the same, the big three-O caught me in September.” Grad school felt like only yesterday, but it was almost six years ago. “I don’t think we are going to get our usual seat this morning. Are there any other places you can suggest for us to go and eat?” She didn’t want to go home and miss her time with him.
“Wait here a minute, I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the throng of puffer jacket clad teenagers, leaving Rachel wondering what on earth was going on.
When he returned five minutes later, Matthew was carrying a tray laden with take-out coffee cups and a large paper bag. He’d managed to get them food. The man was a miracle worker.
“How did you wrangle that?”
He gave her a sheepish look. “I drove past here thirty minutes ago and saw the bus and the crowd. I called the bakery and put in a phone order. That’s how I knew it was a college ski group. The bakery is loving all the new customers this morning, but they like to take care of their regulars.” He nodded in the direction of the line which stretched out the door, and grinned. “You should have seen the dirty looks I got when I walked in and went straight to the front counter.”
She took the warm bag of muffins from him. “You are a clever man, Matthew Jones.”
“But not clever enough. If I was smarter, I would have got your number by now, and I could have called you. Saved you the worry of thinking you were going to go muffin-less this morning.”
Rachel rested the bag of muffins on a nearby bench, then pulled out her cell. “I was thinking the same thing, so let’s fix the phone number problem before we eat.”
He gave her his number and as soon as she had tapped it in, Rachel sent Matthew her contact details. “There. Now we can get in touch whenever one of us sees a wild herd of college students gathering outside our cafe.”
“We could sit here and watch the wildlife if you like, but some of those skiers are looking a bit green around the gills, and we don’t want to be anywhere near them when their bacon and egg rolls hit their stomachs and bounce,” said Matthew. “Let’s walk.”
Rachel had a sudden horrid flashback of hungover mornings from her college days, and she shuddered. Picking up the bag of muffins she started down the street. “Let’s put some distance between us and the underage drinkers.”
The street was busy. Tourists from the main hotels were jostling with the locals in the search for somewhere good to eat. The cafes and restaurants were doing a brisk trade. Rachel sipped at her takeout coffee, content to go anywhere just as long as it was with Matthew.
They stopped outside a realtors office and looked in the window. There were posters of houses for sale and lease, displayed in the foyer. Rachel pressed her face to the glass. “How much do you think a rental would cost me here in town? I should look for somewhere to live.”
Matthew came and stood alongside her. He peered in the window. “That one has three bedrooms. It’s a bargain at one hundred and fifty thousand a month.”
Rachel’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding! I had no idea Aspen was that pricey.” There went her plans for moving out of Kellie and Dan’s house and finding her own place.
“Yeah, it’s not a cheap town.” Matthew pointed to several other listings of houses which were for sale. “Do you notice how many of them have POA on them, not a price? That’s because if you have to ask you can’t afford it.”
Price on application. The trick that fashion magazines used when they didn’t want to show the price of a designer garment. And Aspen was a fashionable town.
“I’ve looked at property prices here in Aspen, and you don’t get much of a house for under twenty million dollars. The nicer properties go for well over fifty million. But then again New York isn’t exactly bargain city,” said Matthew .
Rachel’s appetite disappeared, along with her plans to find a nice affordable rental.
“Fifty million. Who has that sort of cash kicking around?”
Matthew fell silent for a moment. “Lots of hard working business people have that sort of wealth. If they want to invest in property, then good luck to them.”
She knew money, but fifty million for a house was well beyond her experience. “Can you imagine what it must be like having enough money to buy whatever house you wanted in Aspen?”
The property market might be beyond her means, but she could still dream. Rachel pointed to a listing for a seven bedroom home located in town. “We could rent that one, its only one hundred and eighty thousand a month. I’m sure I have most of that in spare change down the back of the couch. You can make up any difference, can’t you?”
“I’ll check my wallet. But do we really need seven bedrooms? How many kids are you planning on us having, Rachel?”
She laughed lightly at his joke, but her heart had stirred at the mention of having a family. Children had always been in her plans, but life had thrown her a serious curveball this past year. As Rachel downed the last of her coffee she searched for a change of conversation.
“Pipedreams hey. The best people like us can hope for is to get our regular booth back at the Manhattan Escapee tomorrow morning.”
Matthew nervously cleared his throat. “I’m going to have to take a raincheck on our breakfasts for the next couple of days. I’m flying back to New York early tomorrow morning for a business meeting. I should be back late Tuesday. I’m really sorry Rachel.”
Him heading home for a couple of days shouldn’t bother her, but Rachel was genuinely surprised by how disappointed she was at hearing of Matthew’s travel plans. They were friends, but in her mind, he was her friend. She didn’t like the idea that Matthew might have a life outside of their little breakfast cocoon.
Their gazes met in the reflection from the realtor’s window, and he gave her a soft smile. He was only going to be away for a couple of days, but she missed him already.
If you have to go, you have to go.
When she turned her head to look at him in person, he was still smiling. “Two days will be a long time, without you Rachel. I’m going to be counting down the hours until I see you again on Wednesday.”
Rachel’s pulse quickened as Matthew leaned closer and brushed a kiss on her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed. The kiss was tender, and all too brief, but there was no mistaking the effect it had on her. At his touch a wave of warmth and desire coursed through her body. She wanted him.
In the middle of a crowded street on an overcast Sunday morning, Matthew Jones kissed Rachel Little, and it rocked her world. “You make sure you come back to me on Wednesday,” she whispered.
“I will.” And he kissed her again.