Page 13 of Pretty Wild
“Well, here goes nothing,” I mumble to myself as I reach for my fork.
The meatloaf, coated in crispy bacon and a mixture of ketchup and barbecue sauce practically falls apart when I cut into it. I tell myself I’ll just eat a little and take the rest back to my cabin. This way, I’ll have lunch or dinner tomorrow too. But the moment I take my first bite, I realize my mistake. Thinking this is anything but extraordinary is a gross understatement.
“Holy crap,” I murmur, closing my eyes and savoring the mouthwatering deliciousness thatisSaul’s bacon-wrapped meatloaf.
Then, I try the mashed sweet potatoes, something I wouldn’t even have considered if I saw it on a menu in Los Angeles or New York, but my word, I’m not sure I’ve tasted anything so uniquely delectable. I’ve dined in the best restaurants in the United States. I’ve eaten Michelin-star cuisine from around the world. But this? I’m not sure much beats home-cooked diner food in Podunk, Wisconsin.
Clearly, I’m either incredibly starved or it’s been too long since I’ve traveled to enjoy fine cuisine.
“How’s the food?” Ellie asks, stopping by my booth and refilling my sweet tea.
Holding my hand up to cover my mouth, I finish chewing before replying honestly, “It’s amazing.”
She smiles warmly. “I’m so glad you like it. And I take it by the almost-empty glass, you like the tea?”
I nod, ready to dig into another hearty bite of food. “Thank you so much. I’ll have to eat salads for the next week, but I’m so glad I splurged.”
“Me too. Oh, and if you have room afterward, there’s some peach pie up at the counter. It’s best with a scoop of ice cream, but it’s still delicious on its own.” She winks before moving down the row to help her other customers.
I almost groan. I’m going to gain twenty pounds over the next four weeks if I’m not careful. I most definitely need to pace myself throughout the course of my stay. Diving back into my food with gusto, even though I told myself I’d just eat a little, I end up devouring half the plate. My stomach is full to the point of misery, but I don’t regret it. It was that good.
“How long are you in town for?” Ellie asks when she returns with a Styrofoam container for my leftovers.
“A month,” I confirm.
“Really? You’re going to love it here. It’s the best place to visit.” She blushes. “Well, not that I have a lot of experiencetraveling. I’ve only ever lived here. But it’s an amazing little town, and summer is always a great time. It gets warm but not too hot, and if you like the outdoors, there’s always something to do.”
I make a face at that thought. “I’m not what most would consider outdoorsy, but I’m excited to relax and unwind for a bit.”
“Where are you from?”
“Los Angeles,” I reply, glancing around to see if anyone overheard or has since recognized me.
“Really? That’s cool. I’ve never been, but I could only imagine. All those stars everywhere. It would be so neat to see some famous people. I’ve never met anyone. It’s not like we get a lot here in Pine Village,” she says with a laugh.
Internally, I cringe.
If she only knew.
“Listen, this might sound a little forward since we don’t really know each other, but some friends of ours are having a cookout tomorrow afternoon. My husband, son, and his girlfriend will be joining me, and if you don’t have anything to do, I’d love for you to join us.”
Surprised by her invitation, I don’t reply right away. I’m used to being invited to the biggest parties with the biggest names, but this? I wasn’t prepared for an offer to attend a barbecue.
“Sorry, that was really direct. I’m sure you already have plans anyway, but if not, here,” she says, pulling out her pad of paper and writing. “This is the address for my friend’s cabin. There won’t be a ton of people there, but maybe fifteen-ish? Four or five couples, some kids, and some single friends. Not that I’m trying to set you up or anything,” she quickly adds, rocking from side to side as if she were uncomfortable.
“Umm, I’m not really sure what I’m doing, but I appreciate the offer.”
“I think you’d like my friends. They’re pretty great,” she adds with an endearing shrug, and I can’t help butwantto spend time with her and her friends.
I don’t know what it is about Ellie, but she seems genuine and real. Pretty much everyone I know back in California is the exact opposite. They’re fake as hell and usually only care about themselves or what you can do for them.
I can’t help but think about Vaughn.
The ultimate user.
“Here’s your check. You can pay at the counter when you’re ready, but no rush,” Ellie says, collecting my dirty plate but leaving my sweet tea. “Oh,” she starts, stopping before she gets away from my table, “I’m so rude. I don’t think I even caught your name.”
I can’t help but smile. “It’s Jade.” My middle name rolls off my tongue easily, as it always does when I’m looking to stay under the radar.
