Page 3 of Fate In Fiction

“That claim is hard to believe. You have been way too uptight lately for someone who is getting banged.” The waitress interrupts, taking our order as Stella continues. “If he isn’t living up to it in the bedroom, dump his ass.”

“Look, we haven’t had much luck finding love in Aspen.” And, I don’t date. Not the shallow, elite assholes here, anyway. “I need to keep my options open. Maybe I’ll bump into my dream man when I’m off exploring Europe soon.” I ease into changing the subject. “Whenever I get the funds to do so.”

“I still think it’s totally nuts how your father reserves most of your trust fund until you become seriously involved with one of the suitors of his choice.” Her blue eyes roll as she taps away on her phone, giving me half her attention. “As if the man needs a money incentive to marry you. Fucking insane!”

“You’re telling me. My trust fund covers just enough for my university books, maintaining the expensive image, and brunches. Other than that, I don’t get a dime to put aside to escape this life.” Yoga and tourism are slow builds to my eventual independence. It strains the relationship with my father because he’s not cutting me off for being a spoiled brat; it’s because I won’t stoop to be ruled under his reign.

“Well, when you do get to Europe, I’ll def fly there to hang out with––” Her jaw slightly drops as she glances to the entrance behind me. “Ohmygod. Don’t look yet, but Emmett fucking Wheaton has entered this building.” Speaking of spoiled children, should I commence the eye roll now? “World traveling influencer. Hotel Heir. McHottie playboy...” Stella trails off, trying to keep her eyes on me. “Josie, this is the first time I’ve seen him in public.”

“So?” I shrug, glancing over my shoulder and barely giving him a once-over. “He’s been here for over six months.” I know this because my father gloats about his humor and how wonderful the Wheaton family is. I give in to the eye roll, thinking about how he is my father’s favorite newcomer to Aspen.

“Doesn’t his tailored suit make him look even more delectable?” she asks, eating him with her eyes and not expecting a disagreeing rebuttal.

With my luck, the food arrives, and I scarf it down, signaling I’m not in the mood to talk. Emmett Wheaton takes me by surprise when no one joins him for lunch. Is he stood up? Certainly, the man who is overly welcomed into this town isn’t choosing to eat alone. I’ve yet to meet him, besides the run-in on the street we had last week, when his drink scalded my skin.

Peering up from my sandwich, I sneak a glance his way. His brown hair is in perfect place, and his sharp jaw is just as captivating as the playful smirk he shoots toward the waitress. Does everyone blush like that around him? It’s a good thing we haven’t met because I’d hurt his ego by not falling for that sparkle in his brown eyes.

My attention turns back to Stella, who pouts about some issue with her new designer bag, and I wonder if Emmett has wondered about who he harmed with his minty beverage. I pinned him for an espresso guy, but soothing peppermint filled my senses. He won’t recognize me. Not with my hair neatly pulled back, makeup on, and a trendy pant suit.

“Should I say hi on the way out, or is that too cheesy?” she whispers. “What if I sleep with him and he realizes I’m worth all his time? And money.” She winks.

“Leave the man alone.” I stack my empty plate on hers and look around to signal for the waitress to bring the bill. Today, I’d rather go home to read about boy problems in a book than listen to Stella go on about hers.

“No, I’m going over to introduce myself.” She stands as the waitress comes over and I’m the one paying both bills. My ears tune in to the conversation about to be had.

“Hey, I’m Stella Reid, daughter of Hugh Reid.” She holds out her hand, and he doesn’t reach for it. “I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

“I have.” He nods curtly and assesses her. “Sorry, I’m not interested. You’re too much like the others.”

“Others?” Stella’s question hits a tone of insecurity I’ve never heard in her voice.

“Yeah, I’m done sleeping around with hot models and actresses starving for more fame.” He turns back to his food.

“I don’t need you for fame,” Stella hushes, completely baffled.

“And I don’t need you for an orgasm.” He shrugs as I stifle my embarrassing snort-laugh.

“You’ll regret turning me down.” The charm in her voice arises, and I swoop in, linking her arm with mine as I quickly drag her out of the café for some air.

“Did you see that?” Stella picks up her jaw and reaches into her purse to cover her mortified eyes with sunglasses.

“The entire café did, Stel. Maybe he is seeing someone?” I say, watching her teeth toy with her lip.

“I’m the one who turns people down. Not the other way.”

Something about that man has always irked me, but the interaction between him and my best friend now has me intrigued to know who he is outside of what he portrays on social media. He seems like a different person entirely.

“Let’s go.”

JOSIE

With a yawn, I close my sixteenth book of the month. The warmth of the sun and the happily ever after I just finished have been the perfect way to pass the rest of the afternoon after brunch with Stella. Pulling out my phone, I snap a photo of the book cover against the beautiful flowers in the city’s downtown park area to post on social media this evening. Everything my heart wants in a relationship has been shown through fictional stories. In my world, relationships have financial benefits or bloodline purposes rather than being swept off your feet. I wish it could be different.

Driving back to my family’s estate mansion, I turn the radio up as one of my favorite eighties rock songs comes on. The university radio station is one I frequently enjoy. “Was brunch everything you hoped for?” Hanson nods as I toss him the keys to my car.

“Actually, it was surprisingly interesting.” I giggle to myself and make my way up the steps.

Our staff is bustling about in a frenzy when I walk inside, which doesn’t happen most days. So that means something is happening tonight. There goes my plan to change into an oversized sweater and spend the evening with a new book. Hanson normally warns me if I’m about to walk into a dreadful situation, but I guess today he didn’t want to be the one to tamper my cheery mood.