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Oh, I remembered. I’d flaunted the fact whenever we were in public together. The PDA was probably over the top. It was my way of showing people they couldn’t shame me because my bank account and pedigree weren’t to their liking. I hadn’t done myself any favors, but Tristan never seemed to mind the overt affection. “Yeah, well, it was a mistake, and it ended badly. So badly, I swore I would never look at him again.”
“Ouch. That is bad.”
“The thing is, we share a niece. And the little extortionist roped me into having a merry little old-fashioned Christmas with him. I can’t even tell you how awkward it is to be around him and ignore him.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t look at him at all?”
“No. I made a solemn vow.”
She sniggered. “Kudos to you. From what I remember, he’s gorgeous.”
“I know,” I groaned. “Worse, he’s the best uncle. But the very worst is that my niece has it in her head that she wants us to be together. And that her uncle is sorry and still has feelings for me. Believe me, he made it clear when he broke up with me, he wanted nothing to do with me ever again. So, I’m not sure where this is coming from,” I said, as if I were out of breath for how disconcerting it was to me.
Jules blinked, not sure what to make of me. “So … are you upset because you want there to be something between you?”
“No,” I was quick to say. “I hate him,” my voice betrayed me and pitched.
“Yeah,” she let out an understanding breath. “It’s always the worst to hate the ones you love.”
“Yeah.” I looked down at the empty pie dish, wishing there were more for me to shove into my mouth. “Who do you hate?”
She ran a hand through her hair. “Simon,” she admitted, barely above a whisper. “It’s dumb because we never even dated. In fact, he married Penelope. Do you remember her?”
“Was she your best friend in high school? Homecoming queen or something?”
“Homecoming princess, homecoming queen, prom queen—you name it, she was it.” Jules didn’t sound bitter about it—more heartbroken than anything.
“Did she know you loved this Simon?”
She looked up at the fluorescent lights. “No. I tried to keep him to myself. Have you ever met someone and ‘So This Is Love’ from Cinderella plays in your head?” She blushed.
“You’re sweeter than I am. I heard ‘Let’s Get It On’ by Marvin Gaye when I saw Tristan for the first time.”
She laughed loudly before placing her face in her hands. “I’m an idiot for ever thinking I had a chance with him.”
“Why?”
“Because,” she said, muffled against her hands. “He was perfect. Well, you know, until he fell for my supposed best friend. Honestly, though, he had the most mesmerizing voice. He’s British.”
“Ooh. Yummy.”
“That’s a good word for it. His curly hair was to die for. And … he saw me. No one ever sees me. But he did. Or at least I thought he had. One look at Penelope, and that was all it took for him to forget about me.”
“He sounds like a jerk.”
“That’s what I’ve told myself all these years, but the truth is, he was lovely.”
“Where is he now?” I couldn’t help but ask. How she spoke of him reminded me of the romantic tension in the pirate book the ER unit was obsessed with. I admit to sneaking in bits here and there. Who knew how delectable a rogue pirate could be?
“I don’t know. Thankfully, Penelope’s family moved away from Aspen Lake a long time ago, and I don’t do social media, so I have no idea.”
“No social media at all?” That was a rare occurrence nowadays.
She let her hands drop, only to clasp them and twist them together. “It’s better for my job that way.”
I hadn’t thought to ask about her career yet. I’d mostly just offered comfort. “What do you do?” I was eager to learn more about her. I felt this kinship between us, like we were destined to be friends.
“Would you believe it if I said that if I told you, I would have to make you sign an NDA?”
