Page 26 of Beauty and the Beard

Pete explains how small the town really is, but everything I need is literally in the four blocks of downtown. Slinging my camera bag over my chest, I head into the coffee shop first.

The first thing I notice is the sign that announces free Wi-Fi with a password.

“Good morning, sugar. What can I get you?”

The young man behind the cash can’t be much older than me. He’s just as tall and broad as Leaf, but without the beard. Just a baby face smile and a pair of the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Do you have any salted caramel brownies today? Pete told me to ask.”

“Ah, Pete. He’s a good guy. You must be staying at the lodge then.”

He places the brownie in a cellophane bag and I order one of their house coffees with a name I can’t turn down:Chute me with Caffeine.

“Yes, I’m at the lodge and my first shock was the lack of cell coverage and internet. Your Wi-Fi sign is a godsend.”

The man chuckles as he slides a sleeve on my takeout cup.

“Heh, yeah. We need it here. How else can I stalk celebrities online and know what my best friend ate for lunch?”

Snorting, I laugh as I pay. “That’s the truth. I need to let my friend know I haven’t been eaten by a bear yet. I’m going to enjoy this brownie, catch up on messages, and then I might ask you about the town if that’s okay?”

“Sure thing. Enjoy.”

Settling into the corner and out of the way of patrons, I open my phone and log into the shop’s Wi-Fi. My phone buzzes with emails and text notifications and while it catches up on downloading them all, I bite into the brownie and it’s like a bar of orgasms. My lord, there’s never been a better brownie in my mouth. I’ll have to get one for Pete. Assuming I can get it to him without eating it first, that is.

But first, a chat with Roman is what I need.

He’s only left me three texts since he knows I have sketchy cell service, but a quick check of my phone shows me I have four barsin town. So that’s a pleasant change from the lodge’s reception, but for now I’ll text him in between emails.

I may not be on contract as a model with anyone anymore, but I still do freelance work if it’s a job I feel comfortable with. While booking a month off was risky for those one-off appearances, it was much-needed and a risk I was willing to take.

Sasha:I’m exploring the little town here today. Still no bears of either kind.

Chuckling at my own joke, I sip the coffee, and it’s just as good as the brownie. I would totally replace Starbucks with this place.

Opening my email I groan at the number of unopened ones and wonder how many are actually important and how many are from friends of my slimeball ex-agent, Moe.

Seven is the correct answer. Moe’s allies have emailed me seven times in three days and it’s always the same crap. I’m not going back.

Not as a friend, a client, or a lover.

Roman:Dang. I’d go for the two-legged kind. How’s the hot lumberjack you met? See any hardwood, yet? Get it? Wood! I kill me.

Sasha:Your attempt at humour kills me.

Roman:I’m funny and you love me.

Sasha:True. I do love you. But work on the comedy.

Roman:So… lumberjack, what happened?

Good question. Nothing happened really, but it felt like everything. Or the start of something? I used to be confident in my decisions and my ability to read people, but Moe left a sour taste in my mouth and my confidence shaken.

Sasha:He’s nice.

Roman:Nice? Suede is nice. Not a hot dude wearing flannel.

Roman:BTW, did Moe the idiot email you? Not his friends. Him.

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