All You Could Ask For A Novel - By Mike Greenberg Page 0,56

the buds out of my ears and was unscrewing the top of my water bottle when I heard footsteps rustling behind, which always disappoints me at the top of Smuggler’s. There is nothing better than being alone on that platform. I just wanted to take a long drink and then sit and listen to more of the music, looking out over the universe below.

Then I got a look at him.

He was tall and thin and looked to be about my age. Not the age Marie thinks I am, more my actual age. He was also in serious shape. Before I even noticed his face, I noticed his crisp biceps and forearms, the arms of an athlete, sinewy and long, not overly muscular, not the sort of muscles you get from lifting weights, more the sort you get from doing things those of us from the city come here to do. He was dark-haired and angular in his face, with pronounced cheekbones and jaw, and he had just the right amount of stubble. Plus, he had the ultimate accessory on a leash behind him, a spectacular golden retriever ambling slowly, sniffing the ground. Both the man and the dog looked like they spent a lot of time on the mountain.

I did what I could with my hair.

“Spectacular day,” I said, as casually as I could manage.

“Isn’t it?” His voice was higher than I imagined, less rugged than his jaw and stubble suggested, but that was all right.

“What a gorgeous dog,” I said. I needed to get him talking. I’m good at talking.

“Yes, she is,” he said, and made a kissing sound—toward the dog—and the golden trotted toward us and nuzzled up against his hip. “Ten years old and she still climbs Smuggler’s in twenty minutes.” He knelt beside the dog and wrapped an arm around her. “What a good girl,” he whispered to her. Then he looked up at me, squinting a bit in the sun. “She’s Florence, I’m Stephen.”

“Katherine,” I said. “Pleased to meet you.”

“You from New York?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“No, but everyone in this town knows each other and everyone else is visiting either from New York or Chicago. I took a guess. You look more like New York than Chicago.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“No. ‘Your beauty is creating a solar eclipse’ is a compliment. That was just an observation.”

Well. I had certainly not expected this rugged, good-looking, outdoorsy guy to also be quick on his feet. I would actually have preferred him to be well beneath me intellectually. Now I knew how all those men I’d dated had felt. “So, I suppose you’re from here,” I said finally, because I couldn’t think of anything funny.

“Actually, I’m from Chicago but I’ve been here fifteen years. They say you come for the winters and stay for the summers. I’m living proof.” He pulled a bottle of water and a small bowl from his backpack, poured some of the water, and put it down for the dog. “When I was growing up my family used to come here to ski,” he continued. “I came out one time in my early twenties for the summer music festival and never left. Never will. There’s no place like it in the world.”

“I get that feeling,” I said. “I feel like this air could add ten years to your life.”

“The air, the altitude, the people, you’ll love it,” he said. “How long are you in town?”

“Actually, I don’t know. It’s sort of open-ended.”

He got a funny look when I said that. If I wasn’t mistaken, he looked interested. Maybe he was just being friendly, hospitable, proud to show off his adopted home, but I don’t think so. He glanced down and, I thought, slid his eyes toward my left hand.

“Well, I would be happy to show you around a little,” he said. “Have you been to Jimmy’s?”

“I haven’t.”

“Do you like hamburgers? The best in the world.”

“I love hamburgers,” I said. I hadn’t eaten a hamburger in ten years.

“Terrific. It’s right in town. We’ll be there around six for drinks if that works for you.”

My heart sank. “We?” I said, trying to sound casual.

He patted the dog. “Florence and me. See you there?”

I tried really hard not to look as relieved as I felt. “See you there.”

I turned my head as casually as I could manage as he walked away. I looked out over the valley as I listened to the crackling of twigs behind me. They were going off together, the man and the dog, maybe