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The helicopter flew toward the small town of Sweet Falls just above the tree line through the mountains. Bret Mitchell sat beside the pilot, Richie, and wore a pair of avatar sunglasses. His chiseled jaw was covered in his patented five o’clock shadow, his blond hair nearly slicked back. The sleeves of his fitted blue-collar shirt were rolled up to his mid-forearm showing off his Rolex watch.
Confidence was his game. It kept everyone just at arm’s distance and protected his guarded secret. It wasn’t what most people thought or suspected. No, it was his broken heart.
He gazed out his window as the small town came into view. It was even smaller than he had expected and certainly wouldn’t help his book tour make a big splash. But Americana was important, even if it was only because it was the norm. It was hard for people to step outside of their comfort zones.
And Bret was no different. It’s why he felt so nervous at the idea of being in Sweet Falls, a typical small town where nothing ever really happened.
A wilderness expert, he had been everywhere from the mountains of Tibet to the jungles of South America. But small towns, that wasn’t something he was familiar with—or comfortable. He needed to stretch his legs. Bret generally didn’t do that at cookie cutter malls and coffee shops.
He shifted in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. It was only for a few days. He could do anything for forty-eight hours, couldn’t he? Besides, it had been forever since Bret had seen his old friend. It was good to lay down roots, visit friends and reconnect with what had come before.
Who he was before his heart had been broken with grief. It made it easier to pretend he was still that man.
“You sure this is the place?” Richie asked.
“This is it, Rich!” Bret projected his voice loudly over the whir of the helicopter blades. He leaned in close. “Sweet Falls! A piece of old-fashioned America!”
“A sleeper town and you? Unlikely. Even more so for Christopher Sinclair!”
“He’s been bit by the love bug,” Bret said with a roar of laughter.
“The most dangerous bug of all!” Richie agreed. “If I were you, I’d avoid drinking the water!” He angled the helicopter as he prepared to and on the roof of the Sweet Falls airport. A small community airport for crop dusters and local one engine airplanes.
Bret wouldn’t bet if they were mostly taking kids out for joy rides and the occasional lesson.
Once they were landed, Bret grabbed his over stuffed backpacks that he usually used for days of camping. They expanded easily to fit just about anything that he needed on his tour of America book tour. One back over each shoulder, he grabbed his weathered leather jacket and threw it over his shoulder.
As he stepped onto the helicopter pad, he took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. The view of the trees against the buildings of town was a refreshing site, he had to admit. He was greeted by airport personnel. “Mr. Mitchell, welcome to Sweet Falls! My wife and I never miss your show, the Wilderness Billionaire!”
Bret shook the man’s hand. “Thank you! I appreciate that.”
“If you need a tour of town or any advice on anything while you’re here, I’m available to answer questions.”
Super fans, Bret bumped into them wherever he went. It warmed him when little else other than nature could.“I appreciate that. More than I can tell you. For now I’m just going to check in with an old friend before I find my inn. I’m headed over to Sinclairs.”
“Yes! Oh yes, the new building. Your rental car is waiting downstairs. We reserved the Hummer you requested.”
“Great, thanks, man. Pleasure meeting you.” Bret gave him a hearty slap on his arm. “Catch you later.” Bret started toward the elevator that would take him downstairs. Conquering this place and winning the hearts of it’s residents was going to be easy. All he had to remember was to smile, be nice, and flash his biceps. Easy.
I was born for this, Bret mused with a grin.
*****
“Bret!” Christopher skipped down the stairs into the lobby an amused grin on his face, but that was his old friend—always aloof and ready to launch into some crazy scheme. They had spent their college years partying harder than they should have. Bret knew those days were long gone for Christopher, but it was good to see his college roommate hadn’t lost his zest.
“Chris, man, you look great.” Bret pumped his arm in a hearty hand shake and it turned into a hug as Christopher pulled him in. They both clapped each other on the back.
“It’s great to see you. How was your flight in? You didn’t drop out in a parachute, did you?” Christopher smirked and raised an eyebrow.
Bret laughed at his friend’s joke but there was that time....Well, Bret had a reputation. “Not this time. It was fine. How are you? It was hard to miss you and your family on the news last month. Your dad....” Bret was going to blurt out prison but decided that probably wasn’t the best thing to do in the world. “Well, how’s he doing?”
“Managing. You know him. He turns everything into a business opportunity. But yeah, he’s doing fine. I’m settled in here and just living my life, you know? I got my girl. Running the empire under Mom’s watchful eye. Ally’s wedding is coming soon. We’re all just keeping busy best we can.”
Bret was happy, and a bit relieved, to hear everyone was doing well. You never knew when life would throw you a curve ball and suddenly everything would change faster than a blink of an eye. “I’m glad. Sometimes that’s all we can do. You know?”
Chris nodded. “Lunch, on me. What do you say?”
“If you have time to slip away, sure.” Bret was always up for some lunch
“Always for you, brother.” Christoph gave him a sly grin.
“Absoultely. But I’m driving. Leave the limo home for once.” Getting out of a limo would be bad for his image anyway.”
“You’ve got it. I’ll just grab my coat. It’s April but these mountains are still freezing.” Christopher took the stairs two at a time and Bret’s eyes wandered over to the receptionist desk.
The young woman answering phones was leaning on her fist, staring at him. A fine-looking woman with jet black hair, red lipstick, and from what he could see, she had a killer figure.
Bret grinned. “Hi, there.”
She sighed and it sounded like a drawn out song. “Hi.”
“Bret Mitchell and you are...” He asked, leaning his hip against the receptionist desk to glance at her.
“Meghan. And I know who you are.” She giggled and covered her mouth as her cheeks flushed.
Talk about an ego stroke! The women were going to eat out of his hand. Bret decided maybe he loved small towns after all.