single piece of luggage into the back of her Outback and drove past the Riverwalk, where a smattering of people were taking advantage of the fading daylight on the beach. It was all so picturesque, with the old buildings in the foreground and the newer restaurants, boutiques, and gazebos that dotted the riverâs edge. She still remembered that day fifteen years ago as vividly as she saw it now. It hadnât had the glitzy businesses back then, but the beach was just as crowded. Paul hadnât died thereâthat had come laterâbut it was where it had all started.
She tried to shove the memories away, maneuvered a few city streets before hopping on the highway to Nugget. Moving to the small railroad town had been a fortuitous accident. After college sheâd relocated to Lake Tahoe, close enough to her parents to check in on them yet far enough so she wouldnât be consumed by their dejection. She got her real estate license, started selling homes, and fell hard for a local developer, who later jilted her for the wife of his partner, a woman heâd secretly loved for more than a decade and had conveniently forgotten to tell Dana about.
As an antidote, she buried herself in work. One of her clients, frustrated by Tahoeâs exorbitant prices, had seen an ad for Sierra Heights and wanted to know more about Nugget. The town was only a forty-minute drive from Tahoe and had its own lakes, rivers, and plenty of outdoor recreation. What it didnât have was high-end casinos, fancy shops, and trendy restaurants. The homes in Nugget, though, were half the price. She wound up selling the client a house in Sierra Heights, meeting Carol, and agreeing to become her partner at Nugget Realty and Associates. Carol, a broker, owned the agency but wanted to spend more time with her family. Dana needed a fresh start and saw Nugget as a burgeoning real-estate market with the perfect opportunity to make her markâand her fortune.
And to prove it had been the right decision, Griffin had given her all the listings for the homes in Sierra Heights, a development heâd bought out of bankruptcy as an investment. Theyâd begun mixing business with pleasure, and this time she thought Griffin could be the real deal, only to find out he was obsessed with Lina. As far as breaking up with her, Griff had been a lot more of a gentleman than Tim, whoâd unceremoniously dumped her as soon as the other woman had become available.
That was when Dana started examining her life and saw a disturbing pattern. Since her childhood, sheâd always been second runner-up. To her parents, Paul had always come first. And after heâd died, sheâd moved from second place in their eyes to nonexistent. The same had happened with Tim and Griffin as soon as they could be with the women they really wanted. Even in college, sheâd been repeatedly passed over by men, by teachers, by employers, by opportunities that came her way and inevitably landed in someone elseâs lap.
Sheâd responded to the epiphany by applying herself even harder to her careerâthe one place where she could come in first. In Plumas County she ranked number one in sales as compared to the other agents, and if this yearâs numbers surpassed last yearâs, sheâd continue to lead. She might not be rich, but sheâd at least found an area of her life where she could finish on top.
By the time she pulled into the Lumber Baron parking lot, the sun had fallen behind the mountains and her stomach was growling. She probably shouldâve grabbed something in Reno. She glanced across the square to the Ponderosa with reservations. The bottom line: She didnât like eating alone in restaurants. Intellectually, she knew it was silly. Lots of peopleâmale and female, single and marriedâwent to cafés, movies, even bars alone. Just not her.
But if she didnât want to go hungry she had no choice. The inn didnât
Jerry Pournelle, S.M. Stirling