Smokey's Distraction - Chiah Wilder Page 0,36

make sure her presentation for the meeting was flawless.

As the afternoon waned, the sun broke through the clouds, its rays streaming through the window and spilling across the desk. Turning away from the computer, she took a moment to relish in its warmth. Since arriving in Pinewood Springs, it had been cold and snowy, and she’d been itching to jump on her bicycle and ride the mountain trails she’d read about before coming to the town.

Closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, exhaling slowly. Restlessness coursed through her, along with an unfamiliar reluctance to spend the rest of the day working like she normally did. Impulsively, she opened the bottom desk drawer, took out her purse, and dug out Whitney’s business card. Quickly tapping in the bartender’s number, she pressed the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” a tentative voice answered.

Swiveling around in the chair, Ashley looked out the window at the sunlight filtering through the leaves of a spreading oak tree, dappling the corner of the parking lot.

“Hi, Whitney, this is Ashley. I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at Blue’s Belly. I was hanging out at the bar to hear the Raging Demons—the band from Denver.

There was a slight pause, as if she was thinking, and then she giggled. “You’re the one who was talking to Smokey that night, right?”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“How’s it going?”

“Okay. You gave me your business card and told me to give you a call.”

“I’m glad you did. Are you getting used to living in Pinewood Springs?”

“I haven’t done much outside of working.”

Whitney laughed. “I’m sure the snow hasn’t helped.”

“It hasn’t, but at least the sun has come out.”

“According to the weather reports, the storm’s moved on, and the temperature will be in the seventies tomorrow. Crazy, huh?”

“Totally. So, how are things going with you?” Ashley inquired.

“Busy. One of the bartenders is out sick, so I’ve been working my ass off.”

“That’s a drag. I thought we could go out for dinner sometime this week, but it sounds like next week may be better.”

“Yeah, I’m working doubles for the rest of the week.”

Ashley heard a cat meow in the background, and Whitney’s whispered, “Hang on, Luna.” There was a noise, like pennies dropping against a metal surface, drowning out the feline. After a pause, Whitney said, “Next Monday will work. Is that good for you?”

Ashley smiled. “Yes.”

“Do you like Italian food?”

“Love it.”

“We can go to Little Pepinas. It’s real good.”

“Sounds great. I can meet you there after work. Is six o’clock a good time?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” Whitney said.

“Just text me the address and I’ll see you then.”

A surge of joy coursed through her as she laid the phone on the desk. Since she’d arrived in town, she’d been missing her friends like crazy, and it would be nice to meet up with Whitney for a glass of wine and some light conversation. Before coming to Pinewood Springs, Ashley was hopeful at the thought of connecting with some of the employees at A+ Construction, but after meeting Smokey’s glee club, those hopes were quickly squashed.

Pulling out her compact mirror and a mauve-colored gloss she’d bought at a drugstore the night before, she swiped the color over her lips and dropped the items back into her purse before clearing off the desk.

Georgia’s voice rang out from the doorway, “Ms. Callahan?”

Looking up, she remarked, “You can call me Ashley.”

Georgia’s cheeks reddened as she fidgeted in place. Ashley glanced up at the wall clock: 4:45 p.m. She rose to her feet and swung her handbag over a delicate shoulder. “Do you need something? I have an appointment in fifteen minutes, so I have to run.”

“It’s just that … something’s come up, and I was wondering if it would be okay if I came in late tomorrow morning?”

“That’s fine. Is that all?”

“I’ll put your appointment with Mr. Harty into your virtual calendar. Pearl talked to him, and he said lunch at noon next Monday would work.”

A flash of irritation rushed through her. Gritting her teeth, she tamped it down and walked around the desk, forcing a smile. “Thanks, Georgia.”

Hurrying down the hall to the elevators, Ashley stood there, looking at her reflection in the shiny chrome doors: eyes narrowed, lips pursed, jaw clenched. So he’s decided to grant me a fucking audience on Monday. Why the hell am I even here, seeing as he doesn’t give a shit about his business? I bet if Tyler were here instead of me,

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