Page 3 of Mystery Mountain Man

Should I have brought spider spray? That wasn't on the suggested list, and probably goes against the wholetake only memories, leave only footprintscamping motto.

Damn it. I'm not going to be able to sleep imagining the tiny fangs and eighty million eyes staring at me. I shudder when I picture its soft little legs crawling all over me.

My phone buzzes with an incoming text, and I sigh in relief. Civilization! Cell reception is spotty here, which was part of my plan, but now I'm wishing I'd chosen a spot closer to town. I've been here three hours, but it's felt like days already.

Pierce

Please send me a picture of you camping. I have to see this.

I glare at my phone. He is enjoying this way too much.

No.

Pretty please? Dante doesn't believe me.

I snort out a laugh. My best friend Pierce and I are costume designers. We met on a gig with one of the popular musicals in the city two years ago. As freelancers, we work on projects for a few days or weeks at a time, depending on whether it's theatre or television. We kept getting hired for the same productions and clicked. Pierce just landed a full-time designer position on a new television series for a major network, and he's trying to bring me on with him. It would be nice to have steady work for a bit.

I strike a pose, finding the best angle to minimize my chin and maximize my curves. Satisfied, I snap a selfie, making sure to get my little pink pop-up tent in the background. I send it to my friend so he can provide proof of my insanity to his boyfriend. I don't blame Dante. WhatamI doing here?

OMG. Gorgeous. A pink tent? Adorable.

BTW—you're wasting a great hair day on the woods.

I know. It's falling perfectly today, and nobody is going to see it but you.

Important question, Mimmsie.

I roll my eyes at Pierce's ridiculous nickname for me. Mama would be appalled. He never called me that around her.

Are you going for the movie or the book experience?

Hmm. Good question. A popular book came out years ago about a woman dealing with trauma, so she trekked out into nature. It was made into a film a few years later. But I'm not even using the original source material because I got the idea from a TV character who wanted to recreate the experience for herself. I know it's bad, but part of me was hoping to have the Lorelai Gilmore experience, which didn't actually result in any camping whatsoever. And yet, somehow, I made it out of the car, into the woods, and got my tent set up without anybody talking sense into me or stopping me for a permit. Which, I do have. Somewhere.

Neither. I'm hoping to make it one night. I'll be back tomorrow.

Don't rush. Spend some time in Festival Valley. That place is crawling with rich mountain men. Celebrities have homes there.

I snort. Pierce is the person to go to for celebrity gossip, so I trust his intel.

A grumpy diner owner in plaid is more my style.

Honey, whoever you choose, I'm in full support. As long as he can make you over and over and over. And, over.

I roll my eyes, cringing from his imagery. When he found out I've never had a date, let alone a boyfriend, he choked on his mojito and has been onMission Cherry Piefor ages now. His label, not mine. Although, it's part of the reason why I'm here. Not to lose my virginity, but to make a plan and build some confidence to get myself out on the dating scene.

However, I don't need a reminder of my inexperience, especially at my age. I'm a thirty-year-old virgin for god's sake, and while it's not forty, it could be if I don't get my act together. It's not for lack of wanting. I am quite talented at taking care of business myself; thank you very much. I wasn't saving myself on purpose or anything.

Mom got sick my last year of high school, and I've spent the past eleven years either at work or taking care of her. She passed away six months ago. In some ways, it feels like my life is only now starting. My eyes tear up. I wouldn't trade that time with my mom for anything, though.

It's getting cloudy. My reception is a little spotty. I'll text you when I get back to my car in the morning.

Remember, don't feed the bears. Unless it's warning you about starting forest fires. Then, feed him your pie, 'cause Smokey is hot.

Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.

Kisses, my love. And remember, if you do see a bear. Don't run.

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