Never Finished

“What? What on earth could keep me in Colorado?”

“I thought you’d like this assignment because it'll take you back to the flagship resort.”

My heart sank even as it began thudding harder in my chest. The flagship resort—that was how my father always referred to it—not my childhood home or Pine Crest. Once again, it was all business for him.

I waited with bated breath as he explained. “I’ve been working on a merger for some time that has some complex details to it. It's been a real bear to deal with. But I think I'm closing in on an agreement that will make everybody happy—and very rich.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Please, Dad, we're already very rich,” I mumbled, not wanting anyone to overhear that bit.

“Can you ever be too rich?” he chuckled.

Apparently not.

“Mr. Travers is sending his son, Andrew Jr., to the flagship resort for a few days, and I'm hoping you'll be able to schmooze him a bit and work over the finer points of the deal. I'll send you what I have so far. I want you to be your best for this, Emma.”

“Aren't I always?”

“I’m serious, Emma. This has the potential to change everything for the company. Plus, I've met this young man. He's a good sort of fellow, and I think you two would hit it off.”

I didn't like how sounded. Was he trying to set me up? “That’s all well and good, Dad, but let's just keep it to business. Okay?”

“I'm just saying, dear girl, it doesn't hurt to keep an open mind. He's young, rich, and successful, and I’m man enough to admit he's pretty easy on the eyes, too.”

“Dad!”

“Okay, okay. I'll quit pushing. But don't rule out the possibility just because I said something about it. I’m forwarding the details to your inbox as we speak. My secretary has already prepared the family suite, and I'll have her cancel your flight for tomorrow. Now you have a dinner date—sorry, a meeting with Mr. Travers Jr. tomorrow at seven, but I want you there with plenty of time to prepare and reacquaint yourself with the property.”

I bit back a laugh. “Right,” I said. I wouldn't need to reacquaint myself with Pine Crest Mountain. I knew that place and the surrounding land like the back of my hand. It had been my playground, my home as a child, and more recently, the place I’d been avoiding. “How long do you think it's going to take, Dad?” I asked anxiously.

“Oh, I wouldn't worry about your other work, Emma. This deal is of the utmost importance. Anything you have scheduled in LA can be delegated to somebody else or postponed.”

Great. The few days I’d already spent in Colorado were hard enough, and now I was headed home to the one place I’d been avoiding. And I would have to do it with a damn smile on my face.

My dad gave me a few more details and then signed off. Suddenly, that burger, fries, and shake sat in my stomach like a lead weight.

Since I’d left Silverpine for college, I’d only returned to Pine Crest to visit my mom, and those visits were brief. Despite trying to avoid all the places that reminded me of Jaime, he was everywhere. So, while my father was off gallivanting in the name of business, I would stick close to the resort and my mother’s side.

Although we’d never spoke of it, she knew how painful it was for me to return and understood what I’d given up. She was my security blanket, and I didn’t know how I would survive the visit without her. Now I’d have to face two ghosts—alone.

I paid the waitress, gave her a generous tip, even though I left half my food uneaten, and shuffled back to my car.

As I pulled out of the gravel parking lot, tears started streaming down my face. I blinked them away, trying to concentrate on the unfamiliar road leading back to my hotel.

“Only a few more minutes,” I coached myself as the impending panic and anxiety threatened to overtake me. I was well practiced at pushing those feelings aside, but lately, it was getting harder to keep them at bay.

I kept my head down as I walked through the hotel lobby and rode up the elevator to my room on the seventh floor. Only when I shut the hotel room door and locked it behind me did I allow the tears to flow freely.

I’d only been in my room for a couple of minutes when my phone started ringing. It was a group call from Sophie and Caroline. Somehow, they always knew when I needed them. Of course, knowing I was just talking to my father, it was a safe bet I would need some moral support.

I contemplated not answering. They were going to know I was crying, and there was no avoiding it. I wasn't certain I wanted to share what was going on, but they would find out eventually, so I sucked in a deep breath and answered.

“Hey, I hope we're not bothering you again too soon,” Caroline started, “but Sophie sent out the bat signal. She said she could sense a change in your aura or whatever and insisted you needed us.”

I heard Sophie huff over the line as I answered in a shaky voice, “She was right.” Then I burst into tears.

“How do you do that?” Caroline asked Sophie.

“It's a gift and a burden,” Sophie replied. “Emma, it’s going to be okay. Take some deep breaths, and when you're ready, tell us what happened.”

I couldn't stop crying, and it came out all garbled, but somehow, they understood when I said, “Okay, but it's going to be a minute. Or five.”

“Okay. But after that, we’ll be here to redirect you because, while it’s totally fine to cry when you're sad, you never want to do it for too long, or you'll make yourself sick.”

“My mother always said that,” I blubbered, and Caroline groaned.

“There I go again, saying the wrong thing.”

“No, no, it's okay. I just …” I sucked in a deep breath, then relayed the phone conversation I had with my father. Anyone else probably wouldn't have been able to decipher what I was saying, but I was pretty sure I shared information telepathically with those two, so they would understand.

“Wow,” Sophie breathed once I was done. “That’s an awful lot to ask of you, Emma.”

“No shit,” Caroline agreed, and I could hear the anger bubbling up in her voice, but she was trying to keep it in check for me. It wouldn’t be the first time Caroline went on an angry rant about my father, but she wasn’t saying anything I didn’t already know.

“What are you going to do, Emma?” Sophie asked, and I could hear the worry in her voice.

“I don’t think I have much of a choice… I'm going home.”

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