Page 6 of Mountain Bean Dream
Somehow, I made my body turn and put one foot in front of the other, breathing harshly with each step. Tears escaped their hold, but at least he couldn’t see.
“Molly, I’m sorry I hurt you.” His voice was loud, and it sounded like it was echoing down the short hallway.
I snorted and closed my eyes briefly but didn’t turn in his direction, keeping my focus on the hall leading me away. “It’s hard to hurt someone you don’t even know.” I squared my shoulders and slowly turned, after first wiping my face.
“Should I find someone else to go to the fundraiser with?”
“You’d better. I know I’ll be bringing someone else.” But I wasn’t sure who. It was a tongue-in-heated-cheek comment.
I didn’t know anyone here as I kept to myself. There was Elliot, but he was taken as he was madly in love with Sage. Perhaps Jeremy, a customer who probably didn’t even own a tie, judging on the standard issue hoodie and work boots he always wore. I doubted he was the demographic the fundraiser needed. That pretty much wrapped up the men in this small town I’d acquainted myself with. Unless I took Annie. That could be fun.
Oh, sometimes I missed my personal assistant. Had she been here, she would’ve vetted the guys and made my dating life easier. Probably helped me to find some friends too.
“Oh, by the way, I’m uninviting you to the concert this weekend. You don’t get to see me play.”
The only thing that would’ve made that sound more childish was for me to stick out my tongue. And I was super close to doing it too. So much for being a grown-up.
“Yeah, well, if we’re both going to the fundraiser, pretty sure I’ll hear you play there.”
“Humph.” He was right. Again. There wasn’t much I could do about that.
Rather than taking the low road and actually sticking my tongue out at him, I took another step, and then one more, and put distance between us, turning back to the main entrance and walking out the door.
As I stormed out of the hospital, my mind raced. Who would I even bring? Not that it mattered—this wasn’t about Derek anymore. It was about showing myself, and maybe the whole town, that I didn’t need someone like him. A fake boyfriend would do just fine. Too bad I didn’t have one of those lying around.
Spinning rapidly, I marched back in and over to the security desk. “These are mine.”
I yanked my scented surprise off the desk, forgetting the weight and nearly dropping the bouquet in my dramatic move. When I finally stormed back to my car at the Coffee Loft and drove home, I dumped them into the garbage and broke down. Being all alone sucked.
Chapter Two
On second thought… I had spent a ton of money on the flowers and they were too pretty to waste. Wiping away the river of tears, I hoisted the bouquet free of the garbage and set it on the little bistro table in the corner of my motel room, adjusting a couple of the bent stems. The vase was a gorgeous emerald-green contrasting perfectly with the bouquet of yellow lilies, white roses, and the tall spires of liatris. The fragrance was almost overpowering, but after a minute, it was warm and welcoming, like a spring day.
Sitting back on the queen bed covered in a thick comforter that once belonged to my great-grandmother Dorothy, I pulled my knees to my chin and stared at my accommodation.
Maybe it was a knee-jerk reaction to Derek’s uncalled-for accusation on my living standards, but it worked, and at the heart of it I did like where I lived. Yes, I lived in a motel room; the kind that rented monthly. I loved my little space, shabby chic though it was. But Derek’s words still itched under my skin, as if a part of me feared he was right. It wasn’t a penthouse, but at least it was mine—a little patch of peace after years of living out of trailers and hotel suites on set.
Many of the monthly renters were seasonal workers; young adults working at the ski hill who were only here in the winter and most of those workers had recently left as the ski season was nearly finished. There were some long-term renters, like myself and Jordyn – who picked up every odd job she could find so she could say she was making it on her own. Something I totally related to.
My motel room wasn’t large (and it wasn’t a trailer!) but it accommodated what I needed to get by: a bed, a dresser, anda flat screen TV with full cable. In addition, it had a decent four-piece bathroom and a great, laid-out kitchenette considering the size. A few months back, I bought a couple of short, yet long bookshelves for under the window. It wasn’t perfect but it was homey.
Jasper itself was quiet and thus far, the most perfect place I’d come to call home since I escaped fame nineteen months ago.
No more 5 am wake-up calls.
No more demanding schedules.
No more being chased by photographers and paparazzi.
In Jasper, no one knew who I was.
Here, I was Molly Griffiths, barista and jazz flute player. Long gone was the cute, red-headed child actress Holly Gaudreau, who rapidly rose to fame but furiously stomped out her career afterShadowed Realmscame to a disastrous end just twenty months ago.
However, leaving that all behind wasn’t even the best part of Jasper. Hands down, that went to the view. No skyrises, no noisy downtown core, and no ridiculous commutes. The gorgeous Rocky Mountains surrounded the twenty-unit motel, and within a lazy walking distance of my room was the Athabasca River. A sweet place to sit, think, and listen to the soothing sounds of the rushing water.
Oh beans. The thought of running water reminded me how I needed to do laundry. Like yesterday. But with a broken machine, it meant toting my clothes to the laundromat in town, and I was willing to wait a couple of days more for it to be fixed.
And … I’d been negligent in my grocery shopping too as evidenced by the lack of nutritious food in my suite.