friendships in youth hostels and cheap restaurants, we traded horror stories and comic adventures, and told each other where to go next, what hostels to avoid, which sites could be skipped and which just couldn’t be missed. They opened my eyes to a world beyond sorority parties, designer shoes and immature boyfriends.
It took only a few weeks back in Minnesota the next summer for me to realize that I was addicted. Initially, I’d supported myself by saving up as much as I could from temp jobs in the States, and sometimes working under the table abroad. Later, I’d begun writing articles for travel magazines and books. I’d started Adventuress Travels about a year ago, and although I wasn’t getting wealthy, I was encouraged by the amount of work I’d gotten so far. I was location independent, and I gravitated toward less expensive countries, where I could live well on a few hundred dollars a month and still save for the future.
And in a funny way, I owed it to Jason. If he had come with me to Paris, I didn’t doubt that I would have simply stayed wrapped up in him, had a nice year, and gone home again. If he’d been the supportive boyfriend who waited for me, I might have spent the year pining for him, and rushed back to him as soon as I could.
So, really, I should have been grateful to him.
But something gnawed at me. Seeing him, seeing that pretty girl in the engagement announcement, had awakened something in me. A sense that everything wasn’t quite as right as I wanted it to be.
I poked at my croissant and wondered what I wanted. Resolution, maybe. We’d gone our separate ways after something less formal than a breakup, but more drastic than simply drifting apart.
Or maybe what I wanted was more basic and less complicated.
Maybe it was just that he was hot.
I couldn’t deny that I still found Jason incredibly attractive. He seemed taller than I’d remembered, and his hair was shorter and more neatly cut than it had been in college. His arms had felt strong around me when we’d hugged, and I’d caught a whiff of pricey cologne. But more importantly, he had an air of confidence, of seeming more at ease in his own skin than he had been when I had fallen in love with him at the age of eighteen. He wasn’t just a college kid anymore, he was all grown up. A man. There’d been something undeniably sexy in the way he’d so graciously, but firmly taken charge of our brief meeting, paying for my coffee, asking after my parents, complimenting my ring.
The ring.
Of course he thought I was engaged. Oh, the irony. I pictured telling him the truth. It would be a funny story, the kind that would have had him cracking up in college.
But it didn’t feel all that funny. He’d found someone. A pretty, smiling someone who looked like she was a lot of fun, who had a normal job in a normal place. If we met up again, I’d have to confess that I hadn’t found anyone and, given my wandering lifestyle, wasn’t likely to anytime soon.
I stared at the ring, winking under the recessed lighting of the coffee shop, wishing that, when and if I saw him again, I’d be able to brag about finding my own Mr. Right.
And that’s when The Plan started to take shape.
Chapter 5
Jason
It was past seven by the time I left work. I stopped by the coffee shop on the way back to the train, but it was a different barista, who just shrugged when I asked about my gloves.
If there’d been a department store on the way home, I would have stopped to buy another pair, but I would have had to go well out of my way, and I decided to just head home. I was pretty sure I had another pair somewhere in my apartment. I was bummed about the ones I’d left at the coffee shop, though; they’d been a Christmas present from my step-mother, and represented a truce that we’d reached after many years of not getting along well. They’d been expensive—and above all, warm.
I resigned myself to their loss, and promised myself I’d buy
It took only a few weeks back in Minnesota the next summer for me to realize that I was addicted. Initially, I’d supported myself by saving up as much as I could from temp jobs in the States, and sometimes working under the table abroad. Later, I’d begun writing articles for travel magazines and books. I’d started Adventuress Travels about a year ago, and although I wasn’t getting wealthy, I was encouraged by the amount of work I’d gotten so far. I was location independent, and I gravitated toward less expensive countries, where I could live well on a few hundred dollars a month and still save for the future.
And in a funny way, I owed it to Jason. If he had come with me to Paris, I didn’t doubt that I would have simply stayed wrapped up in him, had a nice year, and gone home again. If he’d been the supportive boyfriend who waited for me, I might have spent the year pining for him, and rushed back to him as soon as I could.
So, really, I should have been grateful to him.
But something gnawed at me. Seeing him, seeing that pretty girl in the engagement announcement, had awakened something in me. A sense that everything wasn’t quite as right as I wanted it to be.
I poked at my croissant and wondered what I wanted. Resolution, maybe. We’d gone our separate ways after something less formal than a breakup, but more drastic than simply drifting apart.
Or maybe what I wanted was more basic and less complicated.
Maybe it was just that he was hot.
I couldn’t deny that I still found Jason incredibly attractive. He seemed taller than I’d remembered, and his hair was shorter and more neatly cut than it had been in college. His arms had felt strong around me when we’d hugged, and I’d caught a whiff of pricey cologne. But more importantly, he had an air of confidence, of seeming more at ease in his own skin than he had been when I had fallen in love with him at the age of eighteen. He wasn’t just a college kid anymore, he was all grown up. A man. There’d been something undeniably sexy in the way he’d so graciously, but firmly taken charge of our brief meeting, paying for my coffee, asking after my parents, complimenting my ring.
The ring.
Of course he thought I was engaged. Oh, the irony. I pictured telling him the truth. It would be a funny story, the kind that would have had him cracking up in college.
But it didn’t feel all that funny. He’d found someone. A pretty, smiling someone who looked like she was a lot of fun, who had a normal job in a normal place. If we met up again, I’d have to confess that I hadn’t found anyone and, given my wandering lifestyle, wasn’t likely to anytime soon.
I stared at the ring, winking under the recessed lighting of the coffee shop, wishing that, when and if I saw him again, I’d be able to brag about finding my own Mr. Right.
And that’s when The Plan started to take shape.
Chapter 5
Jason
It was past seven by the time I left work. I stopped by the coffee shop on the way back to the train, but it was a different barista, who just shrugged when I asked about my gloves.
If there’d been a department store on the way home, I would have stopped to buy another pair, but I would have had to go well out of my way, and I decided to just head home. I was pretty sure I had another pair somewhere in my apartment. I was bummed about the ones I’d left at the coffee shop, though; they’d been a Christmas present from my step-mother, and represented a truce that we’d reached after many years of not getting along well. They’d been expensive—and above all, warm.
I resigned myself to their loss, and promised myself I’d buy
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