CHAPTER SEVEN

Ally

"So, tell me all about it. How was the first week?" Spencer's velvety voice blasts from my phone speaker, the phone perched on the edge of the pedestal sink. I swipe on my favourite deep berry-coloured lip stain and examine myself in the small bathroom mirror as I rub my lips together.

The bathroom of the cabin is smaller than what I'm used to. Nate and I shared the one in his expensive downtown apartment. He had his own sink on the opposite end of the vanity, and the whole thing was big enough to host our engagement party. Nate's apartment was lavish but impersonal. All black-and-white marble and sterile fixtures. This bathroom is cozy and suits me fine. It has just enough space for a clawfoot tub and the little mirror above the sink has a hidden cabinet behind it for my toiletries.

"Between my new boss plotting my demise, and my vibrator falling out of my bag in front of him, I would say it's been a week," I reply. It's only been three days since I started at the clinic and I'm already second-guessing my decision to stay.

"What?!" Spencer shrieks into the phone. "Your vibrator? What happened?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. We both stood there staring at each other until I ran into the house," I explain.

"Oh my God. I would have died of embarrassment!" Spencer is trying to be empathetic, but she can't hide her laughter. I have to admit, although I did almost die of embarrassment, it will make for a pretty hilarious story one day, I'm sure. Today though, I see little humour in the situation. I'm too focused on tonight. I need to salvage whatever shred of a first impression is left. I take a sip of the wine I poured to take the edge off before my wild night out in Heartwood. If you could call any night out in Heartwood ‘wild.' The town has a grand total of one bar, and it's the only business open late on any night of the week.

"And now you have to see him tonight?" Spencer asks.

"I think so. It sounds like the whole town goes to trivia night, or close to it. But who knows, maybe he's some anti-social recluse and he won't show."

"I'll be over here, manifesting that for you."

Spencer left for Amsterdam after she helped me get my life in order—if this could be called ‘order.' I admire Spencer. She seems fearless, although Spencer's mom would use the term reckless. Spencer quit her corporate job on a whim and turned her life into one big, never-ending adventure, blogging and vlogging her way through foreign countries.

I stand back and examine my face in the mirror, deeming a simple makeup look sufficient for trivia night at The Whiskey Jack, the local pub in town. Winnie had invited me. She said it would be an opportunity to meet some people in town. I can only say that I know Winnie and Mason at this point, and I wouldn't call Mason a friend by any stretch. Although I'm also becoming more friendly with Poppy, as friendly as you can get with your barista. But she already has my morning coffee order down, which was more than I could say about Nate, and seeing her at the café on my way into the clinic always lifts my mood. I go into the clinic optimistic after seeing Poppy, a sentiment that is promptly ruined by Dr. Mason Landry, but that's beside the point.

"It would be more bearable if he didn't also hate my guts for some unknown reason,"I mumble, leaning in towards the mirror to apply a final coat of mascara while I'm talking. Why is it that it's physically impossible to keep your mouth closed while applying mascara?

"Don't tell me I have to fly over there to beat someone up already, because I will," Spencer warns. "As soon as I'm back from Amsterdam."

"No, no, it's not that. It hasn't even been that bad. Everyone here is so lovely and welcoming …" My voice trails off.

"Except …" Spencer prompts.

"Except for Dr. Landry. Mason. Mason Landry." I'm rambling. It might be the notion of attending the town trivia night and meeting so many new people or the thought of seeing one person that sets me on edge. "I still don't know what to call him. He's like my boss, except he wasn't the one who hired me. Mason didn't even want to hire me."

"Well, that's a him problem, babe. Everyone loves Ally Wells." Spencer has always been my hype girl, and I'm thankful for her.

"Not Mason. He has this weird chip on his shoulder, like he doesn't want my help in the clinic. He's this grumpy shut-in of a person and it makes things so uncomfortable. When he is friendly with me, which is rare, I feel like it takes every ounce of effort."

I've successfully dodged him the last two days at the clinic. The first couple of days were spent learning the online system by sitting next to Winnie at the reception desk and greeting patients. I've finally started to get my bearings and earlier today Winnie had me taking patients into exam rooms to measure their vital signs and make sure they were ready to see Mason.

I've been nervous interacting with people in a clinical setting again. It's been so long since I have laid hands on a patient since leaving to film Stolen Love . Despite being somewhat sluggish in my clinical skills, I love talking to the people who come into the clinic. It's fulfilling. It's right.

That became clear the first time that I checked a patient's vital signs and realized that he was having severe chest pain and needed to be transported to the hospital. My heart swelled when I knew that I was able to help someone, a sensation I hadn't experienced in a long time. Being a television fiancée and Instagram personality was a superficial, empty business.

"Give him time," Spencer reassures me. "I'm sure he'll warm up to you soon enough."

That's what everyone keeps saying, but I'm still not convinced. It's hard to warm up to someone you refuse to talk to or even acknowledge. And Mason is the master of evasion.

"I'm hoping that tonight gives me a chance to gain some favour with the rest of the town before he influences their opinions of me."

"Have you talked to your mom yet?" Spencer changes the subject, but I don't respond. My mom is still a bit of a sore spot. "She messaged me the other day. To see how you were."

"Let her know that I'm fine." It's not that I don't love my parents. Sometimes I love them so much it hurts. That's what makes this whole situation worse. It's that every decision I've made in the last year has upset them, so every conversation with them feels strained. They weren't happy with my decision to go on the show, and they're even less happy about my decision to leave town. So, I choose not to address it.

I wrap up my conversation with Spencer and gulp down the remaining few sips of wine.

The entire contents of my suitcases are strewn about the floor. I tried on every single outfit I brought with me, including some of the gowns I brought. Nothing was working, and I decided that tonight was not the night to try out a new, adventurous style, so I've decided on an outfit that is always tried and true. My favourite pair of high-waisted, straight-cropped blue jeans that make my ass look incredible and a white puff sleeve top with a square neckline that shows off my smooth collar bone.

I throw my long strawberry blond hair into a relaxed bun and pull out a few strands that curl around my face. This is when I feel the most like myself, with some mascara and a bit of colour on my lips. Not the ten pounds of makeup that I would have layered on before filming. The concealer I am wearing still lets the freckles that I love so much peek through, and I appreciate them now more than ever after the makeup team completely covered them up for the better part of a year.

Giving myself one last look over, I throw my lip stain into my small black crossbody bag, slip my feet into my black strappy sandals, and head off down the street toward the pub.

I don't care if Mason has the lowest opinion of me, whether he does or doesn't want me here. At least that's what I try to convince myself. If I say it to myself enough, I might believe that it's true. I'm going to trivia night, I'm going to make some friends, and I'm going to make Heartwood my home.

With the sun dipping below the horizon, the mountains are cast in shadows, appearing as nothing but a dark outline against the sky. Despite the air starting to cool, I could really use a walk to calm my racing mind.

The Whiskey Jack comes into view as I make my way down the street towards the centre of town, sitting on the corner of the intersection of Main Street and First. The soft light from inside emphasizes it as the sole open establishment on the street. A cacophony of noise spills out onto the street corner as the heavy wooden door opens and shuts, and I can tell that the pub is already filling up for trivia night.

I can't thank Winnie enough for inviting me. Being included makes me feel like I'm settling in a little more. But I can't help the nerves at the idea of meeting so many new people, introducing myself, and hoping that no one recognizes me from the show. So far, it seems like the popularity of Stolen Love has not yet reached the sleepy little town of Heartwood, and for that, I'm grateful. This is my chance to create a new identity for myself, or rather, get back to my old identity from before I morphed into a person who I no longer recognized.

The pub is dimly lit, which gives it an inviting and cozy atmosphere, and there is hardly any room to move around as people form their teams for trivia and shuffle between the tables. The air smells of sticky dried beer and fry oil, but it's almost a nostalgic smell. I remember frequenting a very similar pub in my old neighbourhood with Spencer; that was before I went on the show. Since then, nights out have involved modern cocktail bars with minuscule glasses and garnishes that cost more than the liquor itself. Nate only wanted to go to the trendiest, hippest places, which also happened to be the most expensive. I like the pub here; it isn't pretentious and offers a space for people to come and connect rather than network .

As I survey the bar, I can see that most people are wearing jeans and some form of a T-shirt so casual that my crisp blouse is almost out of place. It's the most informal outfit I have since I had to revamp my entire wardrobe for filming. They asked for gowns and cocktail dresses, none of which felt like me, but I went along with it. That was the price of finding true love. I scoff at the thought. True love. Now I wonder if true love even exists if it can't happen on a curated set with the most romantic dates planned.

I scan the bar looking for a familiar face in the crowd. I'm always a bit awkward at these social events, especially when I don't know anyone. Not even a year of being put in the spotlight in front of thousands of viewers could change that. My hands are clamming up and my breath quickens.

I relax a little when I see Winnie at a half-booth tucked away in the back corner of the bar, waving me over. I relax even more when I realize Mason isn't here yet. I could get one more drink down before I have to face him and pretend that he doesn't rankle me.

Winnie pats the booth seat next to her as I approach the group. "We saved you a seat so you could be on our team," she proclaims as I assess who is seated at the table.

I recognize Poppy, thank God, and two other men that I haven't met yet. They each introduce themselves as Hudson and Jett Landry. Mason's brothers. That fact alone would have put them in my bad books if it wasn't for the warm greeting and friendly smiles they wear. They seem nothing like their broody and gruff brother. In fact, they're just the opposite.

"So, how's working for Dr. Dickbag?" Jett asks, taking a large swig of his beer, and trying not to choke as he stifles his laughter. At least it's not just me.

"I can't help but wonder if he's intentionally trying to make me leave." I don't want to badmouth my boss, but I won't lie either.

"That's my fault for hiring you without consulting him," Winnie admits. "I take full responsibility. He'll come around to the idea. Mason always does."

I nod, but I'm not so sure.

"It's busy in here. I've never seen a place so packed," I remark, diverting the conversation to a more neutral topic. We need at least four people to play in the trivia competition and our team is already complete. With any luck, Mason won't show at all.

"The whole town gets into trivia night. It's become a kind of staple. Grady started it about a year ago, and people look forward to it every month."

"Is it a different theme every time?" I wonder. Tonight's theme is Television Sensations, so I'm confident we can win, but otherwise, my trivia knowledge is limited.

"He changes it up every month, yeah," Poppy chimes in. "Sometimes the theme is specific to a particular TV show, and people will binge-watch it and take notes. It's kind of intense."

"Your ears must have been ringing." Winnie looks over as a man approaches our table, a tray clenched under one bicep. He's freakishly handsome, in a rugged way. The sleeve of his slim-fitting black T-shirt accentuates the curve of his muscle, and I can make out tattoos that extend from the hem all the way down both arms. He's got an apron tied around his slim waist.

"Hey, Mama." He winks at Winnie with casual confidence. "What'll it be tonight, the usual?"

"You got it," Winnie says, turning to Ally. "Grady, this is Ally. Ally Wells."

Grady reminds me of all the guys that Spencer used to swoon over in high school, right down to his tattooed arms. Spencer has a type and her type hasn't had a great track record, but there's something personable about Grady already.

"Well, well, Wells," Grady says with a soft chuckle, laughing at his own joke. "The famous Ally Wells. It's a pleasure." He extends a hand to me, which I accept.

"I don't know about famous…" I hope he's referring to my unexpected arrival in Heartwood and not my brief stint as a reality star. I'm trying to keep it under wraps as much as possible. It would defeat the purpose of my fresh start.

"Anyone that my brother allows into the clinic is bound to be the talk of the town." Ah. The freakishly good-looking bartender is Mason's third brother. I never would have guessed. I can see a familiar resemblance in their faces, but it's their difference in personality that alarms me the most.

As if I somehow summoned him with my thoughts, Mason appears behind his brother, giving him a forceful clap on the back.

"Another killer turnout tonight, my man!" His tone is downright chipper as he draws his brother into a quick hug. But his expression falls flat as he surveys the table and his eyes meet mine. So, it's just me that brings out the worst in him. Perfect.

"Ally." He gives me a curt nod.

"Dr. Landry." If Mason wants to play it cool with me, so can I. He shimmies into an empty seat across from me as Grady takes the rest of our drink orders. I get my usual rosé.

I'm taking a generous sip of the cool, pink liquid and trying to avoid eye contact with Mason sitting across from me when the microphone screeches and Grady gets everyone's attention.

"All right, folks, what time is it?" he shouts.

"Trivia time!" Everyone cheers at once, the bar erupting with whoops and hollers. Grady is undeniably charming, and he knows how to rally a crowd.

"You all know the rules. No calling out answers, no collaborating with other teams, and no phones! Tonight's theme is television sensations, and the category is …" Grady imitates a drumroll, and the rest of the bar taps whatever surface is in front of them. The entire bar vibrates with eager anticipation.

"Reality Stars!" My pulse quickens, the wine I just drank burning on its way back up. Simmer down, Ally. He didn't say Stolen Love . There are tons of reality shows . I bet half of the people here haven't even heard of Stolen Love .

The first few questions are straightforward about popular reality shows like Survivor , Big Brother , and The Bachelor . But after about a dozen of those, they get harder, the shows become more obscure, and the questions are about specific contestants. I look around the pub, watching the other teams furiously writing on their answer cards. I swear I can feel a bead of sweat forming on my temple. The fact that the entire town takes the time to study and brush up on their pop culture does nothing to quell the mounting anxiety and dread that the next question will be about me.

"Question fourteen …" Grady pauses after announcing the next question each time, giving everyone the chance to quiet down to hear it. "On a new dating show called Stolen Love …"

Oh God. This is it. So much for staying incognito. I slide down in my seat, burying my face in my wine glass and praying no one will catch on. "Only one of the male contestants came out of the show engaged. What was his name?"

I notice people in the pub giving each other questioning glances, mirroring shrugs across the tables. I might be out of the woods.

My team members murmur around me; no one has seen my show, and they are busy deliberating when I notice a familiar head of blond hair, a familiar polished smile, and flat grey-blue eyes standing over our table.

"Nate …" I whisper, my past colliding with my present in one nausea-inducing moment.

"Nate! Let's put down Nate. That sounds right. I saw something about him on Insta once," Poppy shouts a little too loudly. Mason and his brothers shush her. She writes the answer down on our sheet before realizing that everyone is looking at the stranger standing behind us—a stranger to everyone but me.

I jump up from the table and push Nate backward, trying and failing in the crowded bar to get him away from our table, out of earshot of my new friends. Any success I had at keeping my reality star identity a secret will be long gone now, as my new friends take in the show in front of them, wide eyed and mouths agape.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss. He stands out like a sore thumb, even more than I do, with his ankle-length dress pants and loafers, tight-fitting dress shirt, and unzipped Patagonia vest. His douchebag uniform, complete with a silver Rolex on his wrist.

"I could ask you the same thing." Nate peers down his nose at the group seated around the corner booth. "You think you could abandon your commitments to Stolen Love so easily? You humiliated me." My head snaps back towards the group of onlookers. Yup. They definitely heard it. It's written all over their faces that they caught Nate's line about Stolen Love.

"How did you even find me? I didn't tell anyone where I was going."

"I have my ways of finding people, Ally. You must not know me very well at all."

"No, clearly I don't." I stare at Nate, holding his gaze until he breaks the silence.

"Well, this little stunt of yours, whatever it is, is over. Get your things, we're going home."Nate wraps a hand around my upper arm, a little too tightly, and tugs as if to take me with him.

My stomach drops. Nate can't possibly assume that I would go back to our life, a life that isn't mine anymore. The facade that he cares about me now is off-putting, considering how rarely he took my feelings into account when we were together. I pull my arm out of Nate's grasp. The movement causes a few people around us to glance over, wondering about the scene that is about to transpire between us.

To Mason's credit, and despite our rocky start, he stands up out of his chair and positions himself next to me. I feel his protective warmth behind me, and somehow his presence settles my nerves, a sense of safety washing over me.

"I'm sorry, Nate, but I think it's best if I stay here. At least for now. I just … I don't want to inconvenience you by making you wait for me or anything." The words come out like a croak, and I hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears.

"Oh, you're coming back with me. Otherwise, there will be hell to pay, Ally. You made a commitment to me." My panic is rising, but it isn't from the adrenaline of standing up to Nate; it's about the thought of going back with him, going back to our relationship where I was nothing more than his shadow. I flip through my mental file cabinet of excuses that I use to escape conversations and come up short. I need to devise a plan, fast. Something that will convince him that my heart is no longer his, that I've moved on.

Nate is more likely to respect another man before he respects my wishes. I glance at Hudson and Jett, still seated at the booth. He won't buy it if I tell him I was dating one of the younger Landry brothers, but he might believe the lie if I say I'm with the one man who stood up to come to my aid. Before I can second-guess myself, I twine my hand through Mason's.

"I've found someone else, Nate. I'm really sorry." I apologize again. Saying that I've found someone else is easier than telling Nate how I truly feel. Which is that I want nothing to do with him anymore. But I haven't thought through the fallout of what I've said. Mason's eyes widen at the gesture, realization washing over him at what I'm doing. The lie that I'm pulling him into. I match his expression, raising my eyebrows and willing him to play along. If he can put his contempt for me aside for one night, Nate will be out of my hair and out of my life.

"Someone else? You're joking. It's been a few weeks since you walked out of our engagement party." Nate glances between Mason and me, his eyes darting down to our hands. "You're still wearing your ring."

I twirl the ring around my finger with my thumb, a nervous habit that I've developed. I have to remember to get rid of this stupid ring as soon as I get home. I haven't wanted to get rid of it yet. There's a part of me that's still holding onto the idea of what Nate and I were at the start. What I hoped we could have been. My knuckles are white with the grip I have on Mason, praying he won't let go. Nate looks back at us, eyes narrowing.

"This isn't over, Allison." Nate spits out as he pushes his way back through the crowd and out through the doors of the pub.