A Symptom of Love (GERI Labs #1)

Chapter 3

S’mores

T he music fades, and the guests are called back to their tables for dinner. Food and wine are flowing; glasses, plates, and silverware clank softly around. Jimmy is back to his spot next to Jennifer, enjoying an extreme surface-level conversation about the weather that lasts way too long.

“So what do you guys do?” Jennifer gets bored and tries to change the topic. Jimmy assumes she’s talking business and brags about his last insurance sales position, which he recently lost for not being able to get to work on time on more than one occasion within the same week – but he fails to mention that minor detail. “And Chloe is a Pilates instructor,” he jumps in before she has a chance to speak for herself.

“I am also studying health science at—” she tries to squeeze in, but Jimmy beats her to it.

“Yeah, that’s her side gig,” he says apologetically and nudges Chloe’s knee under the table. Whatever . “How about you?” He turns his head, along with his body, to Jennifer.

“I’m studying law at Johns Hopkins. I’ll be graduating next year,” she says proudly. Jimmy makes sounds of being way too impressed. “Where do you go to school, Chloe?” Thankfully Jennifer’s social etiquettes pull her back into the conversation.

“It’s a community college,” Chloe responds. Seeing how Jimmy’s chest deflates, she decides to skip additional information. Why Jimmy can’t be proud of her is beyond her. College is college, she goes where she can afford, and she works damn hard to pay for it. And yes, it’s been an extremely long and winding journey with a lot of bumps along the road that mostly had to do with life and money, but Chloe has finally been able to move forward at a steady, albeit slow, pace. And now she’s determined to get her bachelor's degree in health science, get an internship in nutrition, and sit for the accreditation exam to get her license as a nutritionist, whether Jimmy thinks she can or not. She’s been secretly saving for it.

“Excuse me,” Chloe says and gets up to search for the ladies' room. It takes a while to find, since Georgia Allentown’s mansion is enormous. On the way back, she wanders around a bit, her chest feeling heavy. Opting for some fresh air, she steps out into the garden. Hundreds of soft little lights decorate the terrace, somehow perfectly merging into the star-dotted sky above, giving off gorgeous fairytale vibes. A few people are there, enjoying their wine, chatting away, some standing in small groups, some sitting under the lights or next to scattered cobblestone firepits, each with cushioned outdoor furniture surrounding it. Chloe walks down to one of the unattended sets and sits down with a sigh. The pleasant heat and soft light of the flames help clear her head. She isn’t hungry anymore, and actually feels a little sick. Watching Jimmy interact with other women has this effect on her.

She wishes Jimmy was a tad more attuned to her feelings. The sweet atmosphere in the garden must have gone to her head, letting in all those unrealistic thoughts. In this fairytale world, Jimmy would be more in touch with his girlfriend, he would follow her outside, ask what’s wrong, spend some time with her, alone. Heck, he wouldn’t be ogling Jennifer to begin with. He would pay attention to Chloe, and he would definitely notice if she walked away. But as Jimmy so frequently reminds her, no one is perfect, maybe she should take his advice and stop focusing on what he can’t offer. Fairytales are just not what life has in store for her, so why fight it?

“Is this seat taken?” She hears a male voice, not Jimmy’s.

“Obviously not,” she says, then hearing the bite in her voice, she looks up to assess the damage. Apparently, Will Allentown was the one to notice she’d walked away.

“Ouch,” he says, eyebrows colliding softly. “Is everything okay?”

“Sorry, that wasn’t aimed at you,” she says. “Please sit down. I could use some company right now.”

“Yes ma’am.” He obeys and sits down next to her. They sit quietly for a while, taking in the night sky, the clean countryside air, and the slow, quiet whispers of the flames as they burn into the wood. “This is my favorite spot,” Will finally says. “When I was a kid, I would come here a lot, stay with my aunt and uncle every summer. We used to make s’mores every single night.”

“S’mores?!” She feels the edges of her mouth starting to curve. “That’s my very favorite dessert! I haven’t had it in like … forever!” Thinking about it somehow manages to lift her spirits up a notch.

“Really?” His head turns toward her, looking pleasantly surprised.

That she likes s’mores? Or that such a simple thing can stave off her frustration?

His eyes bright, portraying the little flames’ reflections dancing all around. Chloe has to force herself from staring. He smiles at that. “Wait here,” he says and gets up suddenly, disappearing back into the grand brick mansion, taking away the positive air with him. Guests are going in and out, but the garden is mostly quiet, almost surreal. Chloe wonders what Jimmy is up to right now, but she doubts he’s even noticed her absence. Her throat feels tight, that lump reappearing, making it harder to breathe or think properly. This has been happening too often lately, understandable given the provocation, but she hasn’t had much time to prepare.

C’mon, not now … not when there are so many people around.

She takes a deep breath, trying to control it. She blinks a few treacherous tears away, and then Will is back by her side, handing her a long wooden stick and marshmallows, brightening up the grayness with every move.

“We’re making s’mores?” She looks up to face him.

“We certainly are.” He smiles cheerfully. “Making your very favorite dessert and reliving a childhood memory of mine. It’s been a while for me too.” He slides a marshmallow onto his stick and pushes it into the flames for a few seconds. Chloe follows along. His lips arrange themselves into a childish smile, and she can’t help but smile back. He pulls back his stick and deftly slides the marshmallow between two large pieces of graham cracker and chocolate. She follows his moves with her own marshmallow, which comes out of the fire looking way too burnt for human consumption. “I see you like yours well-done,” he chuckles, but then breaks his into two pieces and hands her the larger half.

“Thanks,” she says quietly, “I need to brush up on my s’more skills. I’m a little rusty.” Jimmy resents any mention of marshmallows or sweets in general, especially if it involves her eating them. But at this very moment, thinking of Jimmy does not bring back the familiar lump in her throat, and that feels like a major relief. “Georgia was probably a fun aunt to grow up around,” she says, taking a small bite of the hot marshmallow, trying to clean up the chocolate melting away on the sides of her lips.

“Yes, very much!” he says, and his eyes light up even more as he pulls up his memories. “I used to wish she and Uncle Benjamin were my parents. Being around happy, positive people is contagious. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my parents laugh out loud. They are complete opposites.”

“I love how accepting and warm Georgia is, and I have to agree, her laugh is contagious.”

“She adores you, Chloe!” She likes how her name sounds when he says it. His eyes look straight into hers, saying so many things without using any words at all. “You’ve changed her life, you know?”

“Me?!” She can’t help the surprised and somewhat humbled look that has probably lodged itself onto her face.

“Yes, you,” Will says with certainty. “She suffered all kinds of pain before she started taking classes with you. I’m sure she had mentioned that.” He studies her intently. “Back pain, joint pain, nothing that conventional medicine could put its finger on, no matter how much money one might throw at it. She used to say that her age had finally caught up with her.”

“Yes, I remember hearing her say that, but she was determined to take the lead on that race, and when Georgia sets her mind on something … she has an amazing attitude.”

“You know my aunt well.” He smiles, and those dimples appear again. “And then she met you. It was almost like she was shedding layers of pain with every class.”

“Nah, it’s not me. Pilates and yoga can do that, you know? And Georgia has certainly been taking her training seriously. She’s also completely transformed her nutrition from comfort food to a Mediterranean diet. I’m so proud of her.”

“Under your guidance.”

“I’m no expert. I just make suggestions based on established and proven scientific research.” Talking about nutrition makes her excited. “The Mediterranean diet is rich in antioxidants, fresh produce, and healthy fats. It helps reduce inflammation and is good for the heart. I figured if it didn’t help, it surely wouldn’t hurt, right?” She could go hours on this topic. If Jimmy were here, he’d have said she was babbling again. But Will seems interested – tilting his head to the side, studying her, watching what must be her face lighting up.

“What made you go into teaching Pilates?”

“It’s my favorite sport, and I needed a job. The studio offered a trainer certificate, and Tania, my boss, was willing to let me take the training for free if I committed to teaching there for a full year.” She notices how Will’s eyes follow her with enthusiasm as she speaks, encouraging her to continue. “Helping others feel more comfortable in their own skin has always been a passion of mine.” As the words leave her mouth, it dawns on Chloe that she voluntarily lets Jimmy do the exact opposite to her on a daily basis. “I’m also working on getting my health science degree,” she dares. Jimmy’s voice jumps into her head, reminding her how she shouldn’t start a conversation about her no-good college and the forever-taking degree. “I hope to one day get my license in nutrition and open my own business for Pilates, yoga, and nutrition consultation, all in one place. The information out there is so confusing. I want to make it simple for people to take their health into their own hands. And I’ve seen what incredible impact nutrition and exercise can have on people’s health and well-being. I want to help make a difference, even if it’s a small one.”

“I like your idea! And you already have Georgia’s health transformation as testimony,” he says, not an ounce of skepticism or criticism in his voice. It feels … refreshing. “Where do you go to school?” Of course, that’s always the follow-up question.

“It’s a local community college,” she answers reflexively, not bothering with the details of her probably anonymous community college, hearing Jimmy’s voice in her head. “The only place I can afford right now, and it’s close to where I live … and they let you take classes at your own pace so I can keep my day jobs,” she blurts out, expecting a disappointing or degrading look, like the one Jimmy always has when she brings her schoolwork up. But that look does not appear, not with Will.

“Wow! I’m impressed,” he says supportively.

Is he for real?

“Thanks,” she says, genuinely surprised. She’s just poured some of her heart on an almost complete stranger, and he didn’t try to break her or shatter her dreams. Her eyes look up, admiring all those stars one can spot in the countryside. She can never see that many under the city lights. “But I’m starting to doubt whether this dream will ever…”

“Dreams can come true, you know, if you dream hard enough.” His childish smile still hasn’t gone away since the s’mores. “And there are scholarships and grants.” He puts two more marshmallows into the flames.

“Maybe, one day.” She allows herself to get carried away with what if, but really just for a second.

“So, you said day jobs … as in more than one? That’s tough. Where?”

Chloe nods. “A Pilates studio and a restaurant called Claudia’s,” she huffs. “They’re very flexible with my shifts, so I can juggle Pilates teaching, school work, and … life.”

“That’s a lot.” This somehow makes him look even more impressed.

“It’s not too bad, and it pays the bills.”

“I think being a waiter is the hardest job I’ve ever done,” he says suddenly.

“You … worked as a waiter?” She doesn’t mean the prejudiced voice, but she just can’t help wondering how someone coming from a wealthy family like him would end up as a waiter.

“Yes, I tried to make a point.” He laughs at the sound of her surprise. “My parents wanted me to take over the family business after college, and real estate is not … was not what my young, bold self wanted to do.”

“You still look young and bold to me.”

“Thank you. Maybe, but I’ve wanted to become a writer ever since I can remember. My parents weren’t very supportive of this idea, to put it gently.” He halts for a second to examine her face, she gives him an encouraging smile to proceed. “They said writing was not profitable. Obviously, they were not familiar with Stephen King or J. K. Rowling. Not that I had any thought of measuring up… So, I took a job as a waiter and kept at it for a year to show them I could make a living and write books. My parents hated this experiment. Making a living is definitely not enough for them. But believe it or not, this has been my proudest accomplishment, and I didn’t even finish the book.” Will slides the marshmallows off the stick and into the graham crackers and hands her another s’more. Their fingers touch lightly, sending a gentle current into her.

Did he feel it too?

“Why did you stop?” she asks, her fingers still lingering on that brief touch.

“I realized that, as their son, there are certain expectations of me… I could see why they’d want me to continue their legacy, and I respect that. We settled on me going into business school for my graduate degree.” His eyes have a shade of sadness to them as he says it.

“What do you like to write?”

“ Liked to write,” he says wistfully. “Fiction mostly, suspense, sometimes romance.”

“ Liked? As in you’re not writing anymore?” she says. “Because I would love to read.” Will’s eyes beam at the sound of that.

“Inspiration, I guess… Lost it along the way.” He shifts in his seat like he’s trying to shove that thought away and, with that, changes the subject. “Would it be too daring if I joined one of your classes?”

She laughs, planning to explain that it might be an issue in a women-only studio. Something from this morning’s unfamiliar warmth and fuzziness reemerges for a brief second. But the moment dissipates, and her smile turns serious as Jimmy makes his appearance at the front of the terrace, signaling with a sullen expression and a nervous motion of his head that it’s time to leave.

***

“What the fuck was that all about?” Jimmy scolds as he slams the car door behind him, starting his car.

“What was what all about?” Chloe asks, struggling to get into the passenger seat with her dress. She should be the one asking him.

“Spending the entire evening with this guy? Didn’t know you were into rich boys now.”

“Seriously? You were ogling that Jennifer girl the entire night.” She buckles her seatbelt and crosses her arms.

“You see how important it is to put some effort into the way you look? When a woman looks hot and sexy, you can’t really blame me for wanting to be around her,” he says admonishingly. As if openly displaying his lust toward other women in social events, whether or not his girlfriend is around, is a perfectly acceptable thing to do.

“That’s not the point, Jimmy!”

“So, what exactly is the point, Chloe?” He says it slowly, as if she has issues understanding social cues.

“The point is that you were there with me , yet you made me feel like I was the last person in there you wanted to be around. You didn’t even let me get a single word out in the conversation.”

“All you want to talk about is your failed college studies and your unrealistic dreams. You keep embarrassing me over and over again.”

“It’s not unrealistic, and you can’t say I’ve failed if I haven’t stopped trying.” Okay, so it’s taking her longer than typical to graduate, but that doesn’t make it a failed attempt. She’s still pursuing it, still attending those classes, submitting her assignments, studying for her exams, and not failing them. “Slow and steady wins the race, no?”

“Fuck Chloe, you’re so naive. Winning races is not up your alley. The sooner you understand it, the better.” His mansplaining tone makes her stomach churn.

Who died and made him the tyrant king?

“So, what were you doing outside anyway?”

“Making s’mores,” she says simply. Trying to control a sudden urge to smile despite Jimmy’s toxic propaganda. “I needed some fresh air, went to sit outside. You could have followed me if your eyes weren’t so attached to Jennifer’s cleavage.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to.”

Let it Love A contemporary romance novel