Page 18 of Whiskey's Redemption

Jamieson

Our lunch wasn’t anything to write about in a blog. It wasn’t worth telling others that it was spectacular either, but I enjoyed it, mainly because of the company.

Surprising Carli was well worth the overpriced greens and juice. She and the lady behind the counter were fully floored I wasn’t being a Neanderthal, throwing a fit for not having a hunk of meat on a plate, bleeding and requesting its last rites. But there was no way she was getting me to sit in an overcrowded room full of new age hippies and vegans.

Sweltering in the afternoon sun, I could’ve done without too, but seeing shock and awe coursing through those stupendous eyes? I’d pay thousands to see it again and again. To say I was slightly surprised was an understatement. Taking into consideration that I don’t enjoy this weather, this heat, or the crowds, Carli selected an extremely shaded eucalyptus tree off the beaten path.

Watching her gingerly walk around pine cones, palm fronds, and beach garbage was entertaining to say the least. Her perfectly manicured fingernails, high-priced shoes, and out of place attire for the beach was an encumbrance walking on the soft grass, but she did it without so much as batting an eyelash.

I can’t say I haven’t had a quiet meal in my lifetime, but the companionable silence was fantastic. Normally, whenever I take a woman out, they either yammer on about my snowboarding skills, how they’ve watched my every move, how they expect to be in my bed within minutes of meeting, or something of the sorts, their intentions are opaque. And though Carli’s are less transparent than most, I still see us ending up in bed. Or, at least, it’s wishful thinking.

“So,” she says once we’ve tossed all the trash. “What’s it like in Vail, Colorado? I’ve never had the pleasure.”

“I don’t go into Vail much, other than to train on the trails. I mainly stay to Beaver Creek. My house is out there, and I can hit the runs without a lot of distractions.”

“You really despise it here, don’t you?” she asks, without a hint of sarcasm.

“Yeah, I guess I really do. Anything that has to do with sun and surf has been quickly vetoed as an activity. And staying close to air conditioned buildings is a necessity.”

“I can understand that. You’re not a warm weather kind of guy, Jamieson. I don’t see you fitting in here.” Truer words have never been spoken. Hopefully, after the will reading, they’ll see the need for Wyatt and less for me. I’ll be able to get out of here and back to the cold.

Crossing her legs neatly at the ankles, laying sideways on the soft grass, Carli seems so out of place. Her exotic features and her expensive taste is hard to envision in this environment, too. “Tell me. What’s a woman like you doing in LA, Carli? It can’t be just your friendship with my brother’s girlfriend.”

Rising up on her elbow, straightening out her attire, Carli lifts quickly to stand. “Look at the time. I have to be going. The governor is expecting me. I have a flight soon, and I don’t have my car.” Pushing all conversations about her away, I take the hint. Talking about Carli seems to be an uncomfortable subject so I let it go. I’m not the only person it seems with a cagey life.

Standing, I brush my jeans down. “Got it,” I say. “Let’s get you back so you can get to that jet, lady.” I might push her some other time for information, but right now, I’ll let it slide. One step at a time with Carli seems to be the way of it.

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