“Last night was okay. Even good?”
“Tell me about that.”
I crack some eggs. “Running around here yesterday setting you guys up was carefree. Happy. Felt like a teenager again. Sitting on the dock and having a serious conversation with Sawyer was familiar too. But is it clouding my judgment?” I beat the eggs, channeling nervous energy. “This place totally messes with your head.”
“In a good way?” Natalie asks.
“I don’t know. It feels good rightnow, but so did our last summer until it didn’t. But it doesn’t matter because Sawyer double-dog dared me.”
“Uh oh. To do what?”
“Hang out. Whatever you call a date when it’s only friends. If I can honestly say I don’t want us to all be BFFs at Oak Crest forever after that, he’ll disappear completely.”
“There is so much that idiot didnottell me when he hatched this stupid plan.”
I grin. “That’s because he’snotan idiot. I’m sure he knew you’d feel obligated to tell me what he was up to. But it’s okay. Maybe we’re not all going to do yearly s’mores activities together, but it would be good if I could release all my Sawyer baggage and close that chapter with a better ending.”
“And get into a real relationship. With someone else!” she adds when I glare at her.
“I’ve been in real relationships.” I date a lot. It’s not my fault none of them last long. I have a hard schedule with taping and cookbook research and…and… “I dated Evan for almost two years.”
“And why did you break up?”
Because he was the British heir to a hedge fund fortune, and when I couldn’t come up with any more excuses why I couldn’t meet his posh London family, I panicked and dumped him.
“Doesn’t matter,” I say airily, like there’s any chance Natalie will miss that I’m deflecting. “This is about trying to be friends.”
“Good plan.” Her voice is mild.
“I need a favor. Turns out Sawyer’s watched all my YouTube stuff. I need to do a deep dive on his socials besides Instagram to put us on a more even playing field.”
“Ben needs the main desk, but you can use the nurse’s office computer.”
While I cook, we chat more about how the first day with counselors will go, the impending arrival of their upscale guests tomorrow, the plans for the opening gala, and how Juniper is the world’s most perfect baby.
Ben walks in as I plate the first omelet and sounds relieved I’m not there for more revenge.
An hour later, he’s settled behind the front desk returning emails and phone calls, and I hole up in the nurse’s office to start my crash course in Sawyer. I know his Instagram well—I caught up on it when Natalie told me they were buying the camp—so I start with LinkedIn.
I’ve barely finished reading through his list of professional accomplishments—his many, many accomplishments—when there’s a loud crash followed by the clatter of chair parts bouncing. It’s quiet for a second before Ben curses enough to earn a hundred camp demerits.
He appears in the doorway, holding the seat of his desk chair in one hand, one of its rolling wheels in the other. “I’m guessing you loosened all these?”
“Yep. Thank you to the camp gods for letting me be here when it fell apart.”
He scowls. “You’re not going to put it back together, are you?”
“Nope.”
This meets with a growl and a short silence. Then, “Does this make us even?”
“Yep.”
“Fine.” He disappears back to the main office.
Camp Oak Crest is turning out to be as fun as I remembered.
***
