to overflowing. It didn’t hurt that Jasmine knew pretty much everyone and chatted them up in typical Jazzy fashion, as if she truly cared about each and every one of them.
Through it all, Ashley only spilled two drinks, one on herself and one on Jasmine.
“Oh, my God,” Ash cried, trying in vain to wipe the beer off Jasmine’s blouse. “I’m so sorry. This is probably really expensive.”
Jasmine only laughed as she took the cloth from Ash and blotted the stain in an equally ineffective manner, probably because the cloth was covered in beer, too. “It’s no big deal. Hazards of the job, right?”
That’s when Ashley noticed Jasmine’s hand. Or rather, the big, fat diamond ring adorning the ring finger of Jasmine’s left hand. Ash grabbed her hand to take a closer look. “You’re engaged?” She rubbed the stone. It was huge, something a celebrity might wear.
“I am.” Jasmine beamed. “His name’s Parker, and we’ve been living in sin for two years, so we figured it’s time.”
“Wow.”
C’mon, Ash. Plenty of words in the English language.
She cleared her throat. “Where’d you meet?”
“Chicago. At this party. It was really posh and I totally felt out of place.” She leaned close to Ash and whispered, “He said I was the most exotic woman he’d ever met.” She giggled. “Me. Little old Jasmine Sweet from Half Moon Creek, exotic? Can you believe it?”
This time Ashley managed to contain the wow that sat tingling on the tip of her tongue. “He’s obviously got good taste.”
Jasmine squeezed Ashley’s fingers. “I was going to call to tell you, then I thought, why not come and tell you in person instead?” She opened her mouth in a silent, happy scream, and a second later, Ashley found herself crushed once more in Jasmine’s arms, the wet patch on Jasmine’s blouse soaking into the only dry patch on her T-shirt.
“I’m happy for you,” Ashley said. “Really happy.”
“You want to see a picture?”
“Of course.”
Jasmine fished her phone out of her pocket and flipped through the photo app. “Oh, here’s a good one.”
Holy shit. Parker wasn’t just good-looking, he was...perfect. Perfect blond hair. Perfect clothes that were trendy and fit him...perfectly. Straight white teeth showing up in his perfect smile.
“He’s very...handsome.” Ash handed the phone back to her friend, who stuck it in her pocket again. “You must be very happy.”
“I am.” Clapping her hands with glee, Jasmine gushed, “But do you know what would make me happier?”
Ash slowly shook her head. Was it possible for someone to be happier than Jasmine currently was? Was it even fair?
“If you help me plan it.” She shivered. “Oh, it’ll be like old times. Say yes.”
“Of course.” Ash pulled her lips back in what she hoped resembled a smile of sorts.
They went back to serving drinks, and, if at all possible, Jasmine served with even more vigor than before. In fact, her energy was in direct proportion to Ashley’s sudden lack of enthusiasm, to the point where Beth asked her what her problem was.
“No problem,” Ash snapped.
With arms crossed over her chest, she studied her. Narrowing her gaze, she glanced at Jasmine, then back at her. “Take a break.”
“No—”
Her sister took hold of her by the shoulders. “Your shirt is a mess.” She touched her hair. “This is a mess.” Using her chin she indicated the back of the saloon. “I’ve got a makeup kit and a stack of extra shirts in the office. Go get yourself sorted.”
“Fine.”
Ash slipped down the bar toward the door to the kitchen. Her skin felt tight, every inch of her sensitive to the sogginess of her shirt, the tickle of errant wisps of hair against her face, the cinch of her belt.
What was wrong with her?
Jasmine’s laugh chased her all the way into the kitchen, nipping at her heels and making her flinch with the cheery sound of it. She paused just inside the kitchen, leaning against the wall. The last time she’d felt this way was the day before Jasmine had up and left Half Moon Creek.
Memories flooded her. The first week as a freshman, when Jasmine’s family had moved to town and Jazzy had decided they should be best friends because they were in three out of four classes together. They’d become inseparable after that, hanging out after school, and on weekends. All the important firsts were shared: first time skinny-dipping at the quarry, first time trying cigarettes—Jasmine’s idea. First time texting boys—ones Jasmine liked. First dates—Jasmine’s. First kisses—also Jasmine’s...
Four long years of Ashley living in Jasmine’s shadow.
Now, after just an hour, she was right back in it. Only now the shadow was bigger than ever, and Ash wondered if she’d ever see the light of day again.
“What are you doing?” Zoe, the shiest of her shy twin sisters, said. “You look sick.”
“I’m fine.” Ash gave herself a mental shake and went on into the office in the back to freshen up. Beth’s makeup bag sat open on the desk, and she had a stack of identical black tank tops with the pub’s logo on the back sitting on the corner. After stripping off her sticky shirt, she pulled one on.
She checked herself out in the mirror. God, how could Beth wear these all the time? Yes, they were made of that stretchy spandex cotton blend, but Beth had at least two cup sizes on Ash, and the tank top was tight on Ashley. However, right now, tight was better than beer-sodden, so, after unsuccessfully stretching the material—it was like elastic, snapping right back into place—Ashley loosened her hair and ran a brush through it before refastening her ponytail. There was no way she could pull off the sleek, sophisticated look that Jazz had, but at least it was neat. Neater.
Never one to wear much makeup, she pored through all the junk in Beth’s bag before finding a lip gloss that didn’t look too bright and some blush.
There.
She blinked at herself in the mirror.
Marginally better.
“Oh, my God. That’s a thousand times better,” her sister said when Ashley reemerged a minute later.
“Look at you!” Jasmine cried. “God, you are so cute.” She shook her head in wonder. “I tell you, you are exactly the same.” She indicated the bar with a sweep of her hand. “Just like this place. I love it.”
Something deep in the pit of Ashley’s stomach let out a low, menacing growl.
“It’s like time stands still here.”
Errrrr...
“It’s
