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СКАЧАТЬ sorry.”

      “Thanks.” He sat for a moment, lost in the thought of a future that wasn’t to be his, then took a big swig from his beer. “What’s your story?” he asked.

      “Me? No story. I teach. I enjoy it. I’m still tight with The Girlfriends.”

      “Oh, man. I haven’t thought of that in years. You guys were crazy.”

      “We still are.”

      “Good. Some things shouldn’t change.”

      Emily watched as he leaned back in his chair and looked around the diner. There were lots of places to eat in Sheridan, but when someone asked if you wanted a cup of coffee what they really meant was if you wanted to meet them at Zeke’s Place. The service was good, the decor inoffensive if bland, and the coffee strong and pure, none of that latte half-caff for Zeke.

      Emily had been coming here since she was a girl, and she’d sat in this very booth and whined about the man across from her. How he didn’t know she was alive. How he kept going out with that horrible Cathy Turner.

      She’d loved him for so long, it was as much a part of her as her hair, her eyes. Why couldn’t she get over him? It would make life so much easier.

      “You have a husband?” Scott asked.

      She shook her head.

      He shrugged and her gaze went to his broad shoulders, but she couldn’t think about those now. “I figured you’d be married by now. Have a kid or two.”

      “Me?”

      “Sure.”

      “I don’t even have a boyfriend. I mean right now. I have had a boyfriend before, don’t get me wrong, but he moved to San Antonio. So no, I don’t have a…” She shut her mouth before she made things worse. Change the subject, Em. “What about you? You must have a wife.”

      He shook his head. “No.”

      “Girlfriend?”

      “Not really.”

      “What does that mean?”

      “I was seeing someone, but it wasn’t serious. She wouldn’t like it here anyway. She’s a city gal.”

      “Ah. No Cathy Turner, eh?”

      “That ended after high school.”

      The food arrived before she could shout “Yippee,” saving her from utter humiliation. Her salad seemed as interesting as a brown paper bag, while Scott’s burger looked amazingly delicious. She poured on a little dressing, and dug in with all the enthusiasm she could muster.

      He didn’t have a girlfriend! Of course, she’d known Cathy Turner was history. Cathy had married and divorced. She and Scott had been apart for ages, and yet there was a small part of her that couldn’t help putting the two of them together.

      “I never thought I’d be back here,” he said. “Not to live, I mean. I worked so damn hard to get out.”

      “You don’t like Sheridan?”

      “You do?”

      She nodded. “It’s a wonderful town.”

      “It’s in the sticks. There’s nothing here. Nothing.”

      She took another bite of salad as the roller coaster that was her life shot downhill. He hated it here. Once he figured out what to do about the store, he’d be gone. And she couldn’t blame him. ESPN was an exciting job opportunity, and if that didn’t come through, there would be something else. Something glamorous, someplace exciting. The high school teacher from Sheridan would disappear from his consciousness once more, as if she’d never been there at all.

      “What’s wrong?” he asked, his burger halfway to his mouth.

      “Salad,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I’m not a big fan.”

      “Want some of my burger?”

      “No, thanks. I’d better eat my vegetables.”

      They ate in silence for a few minutes and Scott devoured his burger. What an appetite! He’d always eaten a lot, more than anyone she’d ever met, and yet he had a six-pack stomach and the best butt in five counties. Another two bites, and the burger was gone. She hadn’t put a dent in her salad.

      “When did the Red Rock close?” he asked.

      “About two years ago,” she said, remembering the old theater that had been such a part of her teenage years. “It just couldn’t compete with the Cineplex.”

      He shook his head. “Too bad. It was a great place.”

      “Things change. It’s inevitable.”

      “Not all things,” he said with a smile.

      “What do you mean?”

      “You’re the same. The same Emily I remember. Your hair, your laugh. You haven’t changed a bit.”

      “I don’t think that’s a compliment,” she said, her voice cool as a cucumber despite the fact she was screaming inside. The same hair? Oh God, he was right. She did have the same hair. And the same clothes, and the same dumpy body.

      But not for long. Scott or no Scott, she was about to become the brand-new Emily Proctor.

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