Page 25 of Hunter

I change out of the dress I was wearing at dinner to a pair of skinny jeans and a white tank top; the former shows off my ass and the latter my tan skin and ample cleavage. I have a voluptuous Latina body, and I’m proud of it. I may as well flaunt it.

Heading down the hall to the lounge, I find it bustling with teams and staff alike, clusters of people sitting in sofa groups together, and a crowd around one side of the bar. I gravitate to the other, quieter side of the bar and slide onto a barstool.

“What can I get you?” asks a bartender.

“White wine?”

“Sure,” he says. “Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, or Riesling?”

“Whatever’s sweetest,” I say.

“Riesling it is.”

He pours me a large glass, then sidles away to help someone else. As I reach for my wine, I hear a familiar voice from beside me.

“This seat open?”

Hunter gestures to the empty stool beside me.

“Not if you’re going to be mean to me.”

“Hey! I wasn’t the one who came at you with guns loaded today.”

“But you were a bundle of sheer warmth and joy at McKenna and Tanner’s wedding.”

“Fair enough.” He holds up both his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just want to talk.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“Okay.” He rolls his eyes, backing away from me. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“No!” I say. “No. Calm down. Take a seat.”

He sighs, pulling out the stool and perching on top of it. He places his half-empty beer bottle on the bar next to my glass and turns to me. “I don’t like being at odds with the people in my life.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

He sighs. “It hurt when you broke things off between us.”

“I know. I’m sorry for that.”

“I don’t understand what happened. I don’t understand why.”

“I told you at the time—”

“I know what you told me. You don’tdolong-distance relationships. You didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I guess I need more than that,” he says. “Whydon’t youdo long-distance?”

I really don’t want to discuss this, and honestly, I don’t feel like I owe him some big explanation. But whether I like it or not, because of McKenna and Tanner’s marriage, we’ll likely be in one another’s orbit forever. Not to mention, if we lose the million because I didn’t “make nice” with Hunter, Beto will never forgive me. It’s probably in my best interest to clear the slate with him.

“Long-distance relationships aren’t practical,” I say, sharing the basics of my philosophy for relationship success. “Two people who want to create and sustain a relationship will have a lot more success if they live in close proximity to one another. Imean, that’s not rocket science, is it?” He continues to stare at me, so I keep talking. “I live in Seattle. That’s where my home is…my family, my friends, my church, my job, my volunteer work. Everything I know—everything important to me—is there. So, in my opinion, that’s where I need to find my happiness. That’s where I need to build my life.InSeattle, with someone else who livesinSeattle.”

“I guess that makes sense,” he says. “What you’re saying is logical, at least in theory. But here’s where it doesn’t work for me: the heart is fundamentally illogical. What if you meet someone amazing whoisn’tfrom Seattle?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” I say, trying to keep my voice gentle. “No matter how amazing they are, that person isn’t going to be part of my life. Not in any real way.”

“What about McKenna?”

“She’s a friend.”

---