“You were so in love with him.” Kris shook her head in a pitying fashion. “Like, gone.”
“Yes, thank you for that reminder.”
“What’d he look like?”
“Oh, you know. Tall, dark and handsome.”
“Ouch.” Her sister winced. “Who’s he here with?”
“No one. Not a single soul.”
“Really...because his wife and kids are in a Tuscan villa on holiday while he’s here writing his memoirs?”
“There is no wife. There are no kids,” Miriam said. “At least I don’t think there are any kids. We didn’t get past him mentioning he was single.”
“Sounds like you two had quite the conversation.” Her sister deftly raised one eyebrow.
“We mostly stood shivering in the cold while trying to find the balance between polite and concise. His parents and siblings are going out of town over Thanksgiving weekend, so he came here to enjoy his rarely used mansion and eat frozen pizza instead.” Miriam fingered the bent corner of the recipe card her mother had given her. “He said sweet potato pie was his favorite. I never knew that. Do you know why?”
“I’m assuming because in the short summer months you two spent boinking each other in the lake, you never broached the topic of pie preferences?”
“Fair point.” Miriam smiled. “I was going to say it’s because we ended before sweet potato pie season. It’s been ages since I’ve thought about him... I mean really thought about him. It was a silly summer fling and I was swept up.” Her gut pinged with warning at the lie. Miriam ignored that ping. She would rather make believe she never loved him than consider that she’d been right about them living happily ever after if he hadn’t discarded her so callously. Half kidding, she added, “I could invite him to Mom’s for dinner. Bury that axe for good.”
“Do it.”
She faced her sister’s wide-eyed gaze. “What? Why? I was joking.”
“Burying the axe for good would be cathartic. Once you’re around each other again you’ll both see that you are not the Miriam of ten years ago. You’re the Miriam of today. It’d do Chase good to see what he’s been missing.”
“Thanks, Kris.” Miriam was touched, but not sure she agreed. “He’s not missing much. Other than a job I love, I have no husband, children or Nobel Peace Prize to wave in his face.”
“None of that matters.” Kristine swept Miriam’s cell phone off the dining room table and offered it, but then frowned. “Unless... You probably don’t have his private number. I didn’t think about that.”
“Actually, I do. He handed me his card.”
“Bury the lead why don’t you! Why’d he give you that?” Kris was grinning, her eyes twinkling. “For like, a holiday hookup?” She blinked, then screwed her eyes toward the ceiling. “That’d be a great book title.”
Her sister the freelance editor never shut her brain off.
“It would be a great title for a work of fiction.” Miriam snatched her phone away and shoved it into her back pocket. “Remember that protest I did years ago with a conservation group in Houston?”
“Big oil, right?”
Miriam nodded and explained the letter that’d arrived last week. “He didn’t plan on seeing me while he was here, so I don’t know what the offer of calling him if I need anything was about.”
“Told you. Holiday hookup.” Her sister shrugged. “You should invite him for no other reason than we can skewer him at the dinner table about being a dirty politician while you’re the Snow White of Bigfork.”
Miriam had to laugh at her sister’s imagination.
“Plus, it’d be fun to watch Mom go from simmer to boiling over while she tries to make sense of a mayor at her table.”
“It was a dumb idea. Forget I mentioned it.” Miriam just hadn’t liked the thought of him alone on a holiday. How ridiculous was that? She wasn’t in charge of his well-being.
“Spoilsport.”
Topic dead, they went back to chatting about everything but sexy mayors and summer flings.
Two hours later, the pies had finished baking and were cooling on the stovetop. Miriam had poured herself a glass of red after Kristine left, and camped out on the sofa, laptop and charts spread on the coffee table for work. But the website she’d pulled up had nothing to do with work. It was the City of Dallas website, particularly Chase’s headshot. He looked merely handsome in that still frame. He’d been devastatingly gorgeous in person.