Not Just Friends. Kate Hoffmann

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СКАЧАТЬ her parents’ divorce, but she told herself that she just hadn’t met the man of her dreams yet. When he came along, she’d know and then everything would make sense. Love would finally become a reality.

      Over the next thirty miles, her thoughts remained mired in memories of her years at camp. So much of it was good, and even in the worst of times, there had always been dreams of Adam Sutherland to keep her going. Would the journal still be there? Perhaps if she read it again, it might give her more insight into why her love life was so messed up now.

      After graduating with a degree in art, she’d fallen into a job as a cake decorator at one of Chicago’s most popular patisseries. A few years ago, she’d struck out on her own, building a successful boutique bakery and wedding cake business. But in two months, she was going to begin the adventure of her life, moving to Paris to study pastry making with one of her mentors.

      Jean-Paul had been a teacher first, a friend second, and after she’d finished pastry school, a lover. Though they’d shared a passion for baking, that passion had never really taken off in the bedroom.

      In truth, her expectations between the sheets had always been more than the men in her life were able to deliver. Where was the frantic need, the overwhelming attraction, the sense that sex was a release instead of merely an enjoyable activity? She’d always wanted to be swept away by lust and then love. But it had never happened.

      Maybe she’d meet a handsome Frenchman in Paris and have a torrid affair. She certainly hadn’t met many eligible men working in the wedding industry. She was so ready to just throw caution to the wind and indulge, to forget about all of her past mistakes. For once, she wouldn’t think about love. She’d think about pleasure first. After all, when in Paris …

      But before all that could happen, she needed to say good-bye to the old Julia McKee, the girl who pined after the boy of her dreams for ten long summers. Then, she’d pack her things, leave Chicago and say hello to a new and improved Julia McKee.

      Julia focused on the road, following the familiar route to the camp, surprised that she was able to remember it after so many years. But as she got farther from the small towns, the landmarks were less familiar. She watched the GPS on the dash and slowed as the car approached the road that led to the camp.

      And then it was there, the familiar yellow and brown sign. It had recently been painted and reflected the headlights from the Subaru. Julia found herself smiling, remembering how happy she’d always been on that first day.

      When she reached the main lodge, she noticed that the lights on the wide porch were still on, but the windows were dark. She looked up the hill toward Woodchuck cabin and noticed that Kate had kept a light burning for her there, too.

      The cabin slept eleven, ten campers in bunks and the counselor in a comfortable double bed in a separate alcove. It was the only luxury that being a counselor provided. Living 24/7 with ten teenage girls was exhausting. A soft bed and a bit of privacy was an absolute necessity.

      Julia grabbed her bags from the back of the car and climbed the rise to the cabin. The woods were so peaceful, the wind rustling in the trees overhead, the sounds of crickets filling the air with a kind of summer concert. She could smell the lake on the breeze.

      Julia hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this place. It was easy to get caught up in the chaos of big city living, accepting the stress and the confusion that came with it. But here, all of that fell away and her life became simple again, like it had been when she was younger.

      The inside of the cabin was exactly as she’d remembered it, lit by a globe on the ceiling fan. There were brand-new mattresses on the bunks and the counselor’s bed and the place smelled like it had just been scrubbed clean. Kate had thrown open the plank shutters to allow the breeze to pass through and a june bug buzzed against the screen.

      It was nearly midnight and Julia was exhausted from the drive. She quickly stripped out of her clothes and pulled on a faded camp T-shirt, leaving her legs bare. If Frannie arrived later, she’d have to settle for one of the bunks. They could flip for the bed tomorrow.

      Julia walked over to the first set of bunks, then bent down to peer beneath it. Was her journal still there after all these years? Or had someone found it? Julia sat back on her heels, suddenly bone tired. She’d leave it for tomorrow. After all, it was just a silly account about a boy she didn’t even know anymore.

      She pulled the chain on the light. A soft golden glow from the yellow porch bulb still filtered inside, just enough to avoid a stubbed toe. Julia crawled between the cheap cotton sheets and pulled the faded comforter up around her chin with a sigh of contentment. Then she remembered her camp encounters with bats. At least once a summer, a nighttime intruder had driven them from their cabin. She grabbed her tennis racquet and set it on the bed beside her.

      As she closed her eyes, Julia let the stress from the ride north fade into sleep. But an image of Adam Sutherland drifted through her head. With a low groan, she rolled over and punched the pillow. She was twenty-nine years old, yet there were times when she still felt like a kid.

      BY THE TIME Adam pulled into the narrow driveway for Camp Winnehawkee, it was almost 3:00 a.m. He’d thought about stopping along the way and grabbing a motel room, but he’d been anxious to put the miles behind him and see the camp again.

      Yellow lights lined the wide porch of the main lodge and he could see some of the camper cabins deep in the woods. Though most alumni might not appreciate the quiet of the camp at 3:00 a.m., Adam had spent a lot of early morning hours sneaking in and out and avoiding the demerits that came with breaking curfew. By the time he’d made counselor, he knew all the tricks and handed out a large share of the demerits himself.

      A lot of Adam’s big life events had happened here at Winnehawkee—his first kiss, his first cigarette, his first sexual experience. He’d lost his virginity on a blanket in the middle of the woods to an older girl from a nearby town. Winnehawkee boasted a wholesome experience, but Adam knew better. He’d used the summers to escape from his parents’ stifling expectations and experience a few of life’s pleasures.

      Like many of the kids at camp, he came from a privileged background—his father was the CEO of a venture capital firm and his mother, a North Shore socialite. He’d attended an exclusive prep school in a wealthy Chicago suburb and had been groomed from birth to take over the family business.

      After college, Adam had wanted to go his own way, but family pressure had forced him into working for his father. Though it could have brought them closer together, it had only driven them further apart. As he’d grown more and more frustrated with the company’s blind pursuit of profit, his relationship with his father had deteriorated.

      Mason and Kate had it right. They wanted to turn Winnehawkee into a place that would help disadvantaged children, not provide summer babysitting services for rich kids from the Chicago suburbs. There was a time when Adam had imagined he might do work that really mattered, but that dream had dissolved under the burden of family obligations and expectations.

      But he’d begun to formulate a plan, a plan to simplify his own life. After he helped Mason get the camp on solid financial ground, he’d find a new future for himself, something that didn’t revolve around money and the acquisition of expensive toys. He wasn’t sure what that future would be yet, but he was ready for a big change.

      He had enough money in his investment account to live a comfortable life for a number of years. Hell, he could just dump the entire portfolio and donate it to Mason and Kate, and still find a way to make a living. Life just wasn’t about profit and loss … return on investment … acceptable risk. There had to be more to it.

      Winnehawkee СКАЧАТЬ