“And not just because of the money.”
He shook his head, his smile growing deeper. “The money is nice, but what my buddy and I did was revolutionary. With our competition, you have to have access to a data network to send encrypted texts. Using the actual cell network changes the game completely.” Excitement carried his voice a little louder in the last sentence.
“Why are you running away, then?”
“Running away?” Even though he shook his head, she sensed she’d hit on the truth. “This is my celebratory trip. I’m driving around, seeing the sights, and then I’m going to Snowdance outside of Salt Lake City for a week of skiing. I’ve booked the best condo they had available, private lessons, and a heli-skiing trip. It will be my first vacation in two years. And when I’m done at Snowdance, I’ve got a couple other places booked.”
She shook her head. “People come to northern Idaho to disappear.”
Recognition flickered in his eyes, shuttering the pride on his face. “Maybe that’s what I wanted when I planned the trip. No, not disappear. But be out of contact with the world for a while. Not have to see a computer screen or check my phone every five seconds.”
“You’re carrying three phones,” she pointed out with a nod at the electronics on the table. “If you want to sever ties, you need to leave them all behind.”
“No,” he said with a vigorous shake of his head. “I never wanted to sever ties. Put them on hold, maybe, but not sever.”
“You’ve got to leave at least one phone behind if you want to do that,” she said with a raise of her brow.
His chuckle was hollow, more than humor. “Setting my life aside for a couple weeks has been . . .” He paused, and his eyes seemed to search the room for the right word. “It has been strange.”
“What do you keep checking in on?”
Reservations slipped onto his easy, friendly face. “I’ve told you a lot about me. What about you? I want to know about you, too.”
“What about me? I’m a waitress at a diner in a nothing town, taking one course a semester at the local community college until I can get out. For obvious reasons, your life is more exciting.”
“I don’t know about that. What are you studying?”
“This semester? I’m taking an art history class.”
He gestured his head to her. “I mean, in general. What’s your goal?”
The image from her daydream flashed in front of her eyes. She was wearing her fancy black books, a tight black skirt, and black silk top, standing among the colorful artwork of some fabulous new artist that she’d discovered. Then she saw Marc coming in, having passed the gallery and seen her—not the art—in the windows.
She tried to shake the thoughts away. She was too old to have such a silly fantasy, especially since she needed a job that was reliable and paid well. “I’d like to get my nursing degree, but the community college near me doesn’t offer the right classes.” She paused, trying to figure out how to explain it without sounding like an aimless fool. “Right now, I’m taking classes so I can get some core stuff out of the way and electives that will hopefully transfer. One day, I’ll have saved up enough money to be able to move to Spokane and take the rest of the classes I need.”
“That sounds interesting. And makes sense.” His smile was encouraging, and she felt like she was lying to him.
“Not really. I’m kind of treading water. And to be honest, I feel stuck. Spending money on those classes now means I’m not saving up to move and study somewhere I know the credits will help to get me my degree. But I’m afraid that if I don’t take the classes, I’ll lose momentum.”
Sometimes, momentum was the only thing that kept her going forward.
“Are momentum struggles why you were crying?” he asked gently. “I’ve been there before.”
His confidence was as contagious as his smiles, though for different reasons. Not once had Marc looked at her with pity. To Marc, she was the pretty—though sad—waitress he’d picked up in a diner. And man, it was wonderful to be something so simple.
Everyone in town knew that her stepfather was a waste of space and her mother enabled him. Sometimes when Selina walked through the grocery store, the smiles of the people she saw were less friendly and more indulgent. Anger and apprehension would seethe inside her, boiling and growing until she got home where reality would be lying—drunk—on the couch.