Page 2 of Forgettable in Every Way

“Simon!” she yelled so loudly, I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

“Yes.” I was close to tears. It had been twelve years since I’d seen him, and I was counting on that remaining a forever kind of thing. Especially since he had married my former best friend. Though we never dated, I’d given him a gift—right before leaving for my summer internship after college graduation—that pretty much spelled out that I was in love with him. He’d never mentioned it, which told me all I ever needed to know—he never felt the same way. Not that he needed to say anything. The same day I’d given him the gift, Penelope had crashed the scene, and that was it. It was love at first sight for the both of them. Or so it seemed. I didn’t stick around to watch the inevitable. Before I knew it, they were engaged, and guess who didn’t get invited to the wedding? I only received a note from Penelope saying she thought it would be better if I didn’t come. It was our last correspondence.

“What’s he doing there?”

“I don’t know. What do I do?”

“Just act normal.”

“Yeah, normal. Sure, I can do that.” It’s not like I dreamed about becoming his wife and would doodle Jules Harrison on scraps of paper before tearing them to shreds and throwing away the evidence. “I’ll call you later.”

“You better. I want all the details.”

I was sure there wouldn’t be any. All I wanted to know was why he was in Aspen Lake. Penelope’s family had moved away a long time ago. And Simon was from Berkshire in the UK. Maybe they were here on vacation. Aspen Lake was a world-class resort town. I guess I just had the unfortunate coincidence of running into him.

“Okay.” I hastily hung up and tugged on Winston’s leash some more. I decided the most normal thing to do was run away from the situation if I could. Or pretend like I hadn’t seen him and pray he hadn’t seen me. Mostly, I prayed I could forget about this tragic situation. To be subjected to his beautiful married body once again was on par with a Shakespearean tragedy.

I was doing my best not to think about his six-foot, toned body or defined chest muscles. My heart was racing as fast as my palms were sweating. “Please, Winston,” I pleaded. Not like we could outrun him now, but I was going to try.

Simon’s steady footfalls were getting closer and closer.

In a vain attempt to act “normal,” I went into armadillo mode. I sat back down next to Winston, pulled my knees to my chest, and rested my head on them, pretending to gaze at the lake. If only I had longer hair to hide my face, but my chin-length locks were doing me no favors today.

When I heard him go past me, I breathed a sigh of relief. My invisibility powers had finally done me a favor. Yet my body still shook. So many memories of my nine months with him in New York buzzed around my head. It was the best time of my life. We were the ultimate tourists, visiting all the attractions from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, to ice-skating at Rockefeller Center, and everything in between. It still amazed me I’d gotten good grades during my senior year of college. But spending time with him was worth living off adrenaline and all the sleepless nights doing homework.

Just when I thought I was safe, the most beautiful British accent cut straight into my heart. “Excuse me; I think we know each other.”

Winston got up and waddled over to him. Now he moved? Maybe he recognized a fellow Brit? Winston, too, had been born in the UK.

I swallowed hard and turned my head, knowing I couldn’t ignore him. I tried to take Calista’s advice and act normal, while pretending I hadn’t given him the photo album documenting all our excursions together. Or that I hadn’t subtly, or maybe not so subtly, written a caption for every picture telling him exactly how I felt about him. “Wow. Simon Harrison,” I breathed out. “What are you doing here?”

Simon tilted his head, his brow crinkling as if he were trying to place me. He snapped his fingers repeatedly and pointed at me. “You’re uh ...” He obviously couldn’t remember.

I was used to that response. No one seemed to remember me, but I thought he would be different. Oh, how wrong I was. It felt as if he’d stabbed me in my soul. Once upon a time, he’d called me his best mate.

“It’s Jules,” I whispered while standing up, desperate to get away from him.

He blinked a few more times before his eyes widened. “Of course, Jules.” His ears pinked. “How are you?”

I’d been better.

I wiped the sand off my smooth, tan legs and cutoffs, doing my best not to ogle his bare chest with sexy, dark hair and beads of perspiration getting lost in the lovely forest. It had been a dream of mine to rest my head among the softness and breathe in his woodsy scent. “Great,” I lied. “Excuse me, I need to get back to my parents’ place for uh ... dinner. Yes, dinner,” I rambled, even though I was nowhere near hungry now and I highly doubted my parents were making dinner.

His gorgeous, light-green eyes danced over me as he ran a hand through his damp, sweaty hair. The moisture made his curls even more pronounced, especially above his ears. I foolishly wondered what he thought of me after all this time. Probably that I was a bore with the same haircut I had twelve years ago. “That’s right. You grew up here along with Penelope,” he commented.

There was her name. His wife. The woman I thought for many years was my friend, but she was probably my worst enemy. “Yep.” I tugged on Winston’s leash, anxious to flee.

Winston wouldn’t budge. He kept sniffing the handsome Brit. The dog was killing me.

Simon reached down to pet his head. “Is this your pooch?”

“He belongs to my parents.”

“Do you live in Aspen Lake?”

“No, thank goodness,” I said before I could stop myself.

He chuckled the most melodic, masculine laugh. The one that used to mesmerize me and make me wish he would find something I said comical, just so I could hear it.

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