“Wait up, Blair!”

“Come on, Hugh! You’re too slow!” the little girl called back over her shoulder, racing her best friend through the stables. “I’m gonna win!”

“Not this time,” he grunted as he hurried to catch up.

The kids ran past stalls filled with horses, trainers, and caretakers, all of whom smiled at the children who spent most of their childhood here. Blair Fraser, the little girl, was the daughter of the man who owned this stable and currently raced some of the most prized horses in Louisville, Kentucky. The boy racing to catch up was Hugh Gordie, son of another family with a big name in the city. The parents were having lunch somewhere near the stables, giving the children a chance to run and play chase.

Blair rounded the corner and slipped in the dirt, falling to her hands with an oomph. Hugh rushed past her but whirled around and hurried back to her side.

“You ruined your chance,” Blair argued as he held out his hand for hers.

He hauled her up and helped brush dust from her new sky-blue dress. “Your mom’s going to kill us for getting dirty.”

“Probably,” she agreed with a giggle, shoving her blonde curls from her face.

Hugh offered her his hand and she clasped it tightly. They took off again, running side by side as they exited the stables, and finally reached the edge of the practice track where several horses were trotting by. They hung on the bars, staring wide-eyed at the great big beasts. Blair’s eyes widened as they moved past, their great big bodies fascinating her. She’d left her polaroid at the house and huffed in annoyance at herself. Her room was littered with photographs, polaroid pictures of things she liked but mostly of her and Hugh.

“You know, when we get older and get married, you should let me win a race,” Hugh told her.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I think it’d be a nice thing for you to do.”

Blair stuck her tongue out at him, and he tickled her sides as she hollered with laughter. “I guess I could be a nice wife for you. But you have to be nice to me, too.”

“Duh,” he replied as if that was the dumbest thing in the world for her to say.

Blair grinned and leaned into his side. “We’re best friends, right, Hugh?”

“Yeah, always.”

“Good,” she stated and watched as another large black horse galloped down the track. “What do you think it’ll be like when we’re grown up? Will we be boring?”

“Nah, we’ll be fun, like we are now.”

“Will we travel? Go see the world and maybe never ever come home?”

“That’s the plan. I can’t wait to see what’s out there waiting for us,” he said, staring off into the distance as if he could already see the coast and what lay beyond.

“You promise?”

Hugh leaned over and pecked Blair on the cheek. She blushed and covered her mouth as she giggled again. “Pinky promise.”

“Blair! Hugh!” Jean, Blair’s mom, called out. “There you two are!”

“Hi, Mom!” Blair hollered, waving her hand over her head as the kids turned around to greet her and the other parents.

Jean’s smile was warm as she picked her daughter up and hugged her. “If you keep growing, I’m not going to be able to pick you up anymore,” she remarked. “Dessert’s ready. I had a feeling you two would like some since you skipped your lunches.”

Hugh and Blair’s faces mirrored fake looks of innocence. “Maybe,” Blair said quietly, swaying back and forth on her feet. “What is it?”

Jean bent lower and whispered, “Chocolate cake, but if you don’t hurry, your dad will eat it all. Yours too, Hugh,” she added. “Best hurry!” She gave Blair a pat on the butt, and the kids scurried towards the main building. They rushed past Brody, Blair’s dad, and Bridget and Kenneth, Hugh’s parents. His sisters weren’t there that day, the older one out with friends and the younger with her babysitter. Blair pulled ahead of Hugh, teasing him, but a sudden scream of panic from Jean stopped her short and she tumbled into a heap in the grass, Hugh right behind her.

“Mama?” she asked, pushing to her feet. But her mom wasn’t on the ground. “Daddy!”

Blair sprinted to her parents’ sides, Jean holding Brody in her lap. He gasped for air, clutching his hands to his chest as he tried to speak, but the words were garbled. “No, Brody, look at me. The ambulance is on its way. Please, hold on—please!”

Kenneth and Bridget stood close by, the first with a phone to his ear.

Brody smiled sadly and Blair fell to her knees, clinging to his jacket. “Daddy!”

“Blair,” he whispered, “take…take care of your mother.”

She sniffed hard as tears streamed down her cheeks as Brody’s eyes closed. “No! Daddy!” She screamed and wailed as Jean begged for someone to take her away. Hugh’s little arms closed tightly around her and held her close as she sobbed, watching Jean hold Brody as he breathed his last few breaths.

* * *

Blair shot up in bed, drenched in a cold sweat, glancing frantically around her room. The curtains were drawn and she fell back with a curse, throwing her arm over her face. That damn dream. It had haunted her for fifteen years after her dad had passed away from a heart attack. He never even made it to the hospital. Never had a chance.

She rubbed her face hard, shaking away the rest of the memories of what happened before that horrible moment. Hugh. When was the last time she’d dreamt about him?

“Not long enough,” she grumbled to herself. Flopping over, she snuggled with her pillow and shut her eyes, praying for sleep to return, but her bedroom door swung wide and she jumped up for a second time that morning. “Mom! Come on!”

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine,” Jean greeted her with a smirk.

“My alarm hasn’t even gone off yet.” She yanked the comforter up over her head and willed her mom barging in to be part of her dream, too. Sadly, she was not, and the comforter was tugged down to the foot of the bed. “Why do you insist on torturing your daughter?”

“We have some things to discuss this morning before you head to class.” She plopped on the edge of the bed and shook Blair’s leg. “This is important. Can you please sit up and look at me?”

Shoving her curly hair from her face, Blair sat up with a huff, leaning against her headboard with her arms crossed. “All right, I’m awake. What do you want to talk about that couldn’t wait another hour for me to get up and have some coffee?”

“You drink too much coffee,” she remarked.

Blair rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Mom. Is this my caffeine intervention?”

“It should be, but no, it’s not. You’re twenty-three, and the time has come for you to make a decision.”

She waited for her to go on, but Jean fiddled with the comforter. “Decision about what?”

“Doing what your father and I discussed a long time ago with the Gordies.”

“Oh no,” Blair said loudly, shaking her head. “No, it’s not happening.”

“You knew this was coming,” Jean reminded her, sighing. “This has been in the works since you two were little, running around the race track. We’ve put it off for far too long.”

Blair’s eyes narrowed. “No, you mean Bridget Gordie is getting ready to run for governor and she needs the support of the Fraser family, who runs half the city,” she snapped. “I’m glad you’re still friends with her, Mom, really I am, but you can’t expect me to marry her son! He’s an asshole! An arrogant, prick of a man, and I will not marry him!”

She flung her legs off the side of the bed and stormed into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door and locking it so she could pee in peace. Her mother had no boundaries, especially when she pushed her daughter to do what she thought was best. Jean’s shadow appeared under the door, and Blair mumbled curses as she took care of her morning business.

“I’m not doing this to torture you, but you two are perfect for each other.”

“Since when?”

“Don’t give me that. You two were best friends once upon a time.”

Blair flushed the toilet and picked up her brush to tackle her obnoxious curls. “Once upon a time is not now.”

“You never told me what happened between you two.”

Her hand paused and her blue eyes glistened with emotions she’d kept bottled up for years. When was the last time she was with Hugh and had a good time? Three years? Her mind flashed back to her dream and the horror of the day she’d lost her dad. He had been there for her that day, and she tried her best to be there for him, even when the grief over the loss of her dad dragged on year after year. She blinked and the emotion was under her control again. She lacked the time to deal with such emotions, and breaking down in the face of her mom telling her she needed to marry him was not happening.

“We grew apart, I guess,” she replied when she opened the door, her hair still messy but presentable enough to go to class. “Can I think about it?”

“Not for long, I’m afraid. Elections are this fall,” Jean told her firmly. “Bridget is pushing for us to resolve this…issue.”

“Us not being married in her time frame is an issue?” Blair barked a laugh. “That woman doesn’t care about her son or his happiness. All she cares about is herself.”

“Still, it would be good for both our families to have an actual family connection.”

“Mom, mid-terms are coming up. I’d prefer not to have to worry about a wedding looming on the horizon so I can try to keep my GPA up.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

She threw open her closet door and flipped on the light to the walk-in. “It’s my first year of grad school. The goal is to impress professors I might be stuck with for a few years, not be like a lot of other first years and mess it up.”

The lines on Jean’s face deepened as they usually did when she disapproved of what Blair was currently doing. “The wedding wouldn’t take place until the fall anyway, when the leaves are turning, and we could have it outside at the race track. Just like you always told me you wanted when you were little.”

“I’m not a little girl anymore,” she pointed out, shrugging out of her oversized sleep shirt and into a pair of snug skinny jeans. “Your little girl has grown up and is turning into a business woman like you, remember?” The words were more bitter than she’d meant, but she wouldn’t apologize. She was a horrible liar. March was chilly this year, so she chose a thick black sweater to keep her warm so she didn’t have to lug around a jacket. Her black boots went on next, up to her knees, and she picked out silver studs for her ears. When she stepped out of the closet, Jean stood at the window of her bedroom, staring out over the acres of land they owned. “Mom?”

“I know this isn’t the life you wanted to have,” she whispered, “but this is what I need you to do so you can stay in this position, stay in this quality of life.”

Blair rested her hand on her mom’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not like you’re going anywhere anytime soon.”

“You don’t know that,” she said sadly. “We didn’t with your dad.”

Blair hugged her mom. “I know. I miss him, too. Every day.”

Jean held her daughter, and Blair felt tears wet her cheek from her mom’s crying. “I want to make sure you’re taken care of. Is that too much to ask?”

“No, but I don’t think marrying Hugh Gordie should be the automatic go-to.”

Jean laughed and leaned back, wiping her face. Within seconds, she was the strong Jean Fraser who had controlled the Fraser family legacy for the past fifteen years. Never faltering, never losing sight of continuing Brody’s dreams of making Louisville a booming city with so much to offer, from a great medical center to tech industries able to grow and expand with the changing times, adding much needed jobs and infrastructure to an already great city.

“Maybe you’re right, but Bridget has asked me to speak with you on the matter for quite some time.”

“How long is quite some time?” Jean began making Blair’s bed, a sign she didn’t wish to continue discussing this matter. “Mom, how long?”

“A few years, give or take,” she said, giving in, fluffing the pillows and tugging up the comforter. “They’re coming over for dinner Friday night, so please, whatever happened between you and Hugh, find a way to put it behind you for one night? Or longer. Longer would be good.”

“Whatever. I have to get to class. I’m meeting Jesse for coffee.”

She grabbed her raggedy backpack covered with patched up holes and stains, slung it on her back, and hurried out the bedroom door. Jean called after her, but she tuned her out. Five minutes later, she was in the front seat of her dad’s old Bronco, driving to campus. A spot wasn’t hard to find since it was barely half past seven, but the café was open, thankfully. She texted Jesse—her roommate for her first four years at school and now one of her only friends—as she walked across the dewy grass to the café to wait for her. Blair’s first class of the day didn’t start until noon, but Jean knew nothing of her schedule and Blair kept it that way.

Officially, she was signed up for communication and business classes, but that was not where she spent most of her time. Jean, not wanting her daughter to overwork herself, had agreed when Blair only signed up for three classes a semester. All she had to do was convince her mom the workload kept her on campus most of the time so she never had to be home.

Coffee ordered and in hand, she added one creamer and one sugar, stirring it absently as she watched other students appear on the lawns, some running to get to their first classes, some moseying along in the cool air. Blair set her paper cup on a nearby table and swung her worn pack around to her front. A couple stood beneath one of the old Kentucky coffeetrees, holding hands as the guy kissed her cheek sweetly and she smiled. Blair drew out her Nikon camera, removed the lens cap, and zoomed in with her 300 lens for the shot. She adjusted the settings and moved back a few steps to be sure she caught the swaying branches just when they passed over the couple’s bodies, leaving only their faces visible through the foliage. Blair clicked a few shots and turned her camera, changing the angle as the couple turned and leaned into one another as they walked away. She captured a few more moments. Something about people walking away from the camera captivated Blair, and she managed to snag a few decent shots.

She was flipping through them when Jesse appeared at the table. “You were up way too early this morning,” she grumbled, sipping her steaming cup of coffee.

“Hmm, don’t blame me.”

“Oh no?” Her friend twirled a long strand of black curly hair around her finger. “Who should I blame if not the friend who sent me a text before eight in the morning. What was the rule, lady?”

Blair smirked, glancing up at her friend’s smiling ebony face and glimmering eyes that said she was messing with her. “No texts or phone calls before nine in the morning unless it’s life or death. I remember the first rule of our friendship.”

“Uh huh, then why did you text me so damn early?”

She studied her friend closely, leaned across the table, and sniffed. “Who were you with last night? Or do you suddenly have a fascination with manly smelling cologne?” Jesse buried her face in her coffee. “No way. You got back together again?” She whistled. “Wow, and I thought I was the sappy romantic in this relationship. What did he say this time?”

Jesse’s head fell to the table. “I don’t even know.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m pretty sure you love that poor man. Tell him, please, and put him out of his misery?”

Her friend flipped her off and Blair giggled. “I don’t love him.”

“Yeah, right, whatever, Mama. Then stop going back to Mark. Honestly, you’re lucky.”

“Lucky?” she said, flipping her hair back over her head as she straightened. “How am I lucky?”

“He hasn’t let you go yet.” She hadn’t expected the words to come out so thick with emotion, and she cleared her throat, ignoring the sudden curious look. “Here, what do you think of these?” She slid the camera across the table to get Jesse’s opinions on the shots she’d taken.

Jesse picked up the camera and skimmed through them. “Perfect, as always. Did you take these through the window?”

“I did. I was worried about the light reflecting but caught the angle right.”

“Why won’t you tell your mom the truth and be done with it?”

“I’m not there yet,” she said, taking the camera back to look at the photos again. Her heart clenched and her mouth went dry remembering a time not too long ago when she had smiled like that. “Besides, I texted you for a good reason this morning.”

“I have yet to hear it unless it was to drag me away from the very warm, very strong arms of Mark,” she complained.

She blinked furiously and busied her shaking hands with returning her camera to her bag. “Mom wants me to go through with her and the Gordies’ plan for me to marry their son. Oh, and they want us to do it this fall.”

Keep it together. It’s been years, girl, time to put it behind you and keep it there. It’s not happening.

Jesse’s hand found hers and squeezed. “Hugh Gordie? Your mom knows what happened, right?”

“Ah no, neither of our parents know. They assume we both got busy with school and grew apart,” Blair explained. “I had hoped they would drop the notion, but his mom’s running for governor this fall and a connection with my name would apparently make her life so much easier.”

“Considering your mom owns several major industries, yeah, I can see that,” Jesse mused. “What did you say?”

“I said I wanted to think about it and she told me they’re coming over for dinner Friday night.”

“Ouch. Want me to crash the party?” she offered.

Blair ran her fingers over the plastic lid on her coffee considering it. “Nah, I’m a tough cookie. I can handle it, I think.”

“You can handle being in a room with that arrogant jackass and his parents?”

“Yes,” she replied slowly.

“And put on a convincing act that you’re not pissed off at him?”

She cringed, her body sagging as the weight of the upcoming days hit her harder than they had when her mom had dropped her earlier bombshell. “I don’t have a choice.”

“What about your plan?” Jesse whispered.

“I have to wait until the end of the semester. Two and a half months.”

“Then I suggest you get better at lying, lady.”

Blair sunk even lower in her seat. Lying wasn’t her strong suit. Avoidance, sure, but straight up lying about wanting to marry Hugh? She picked at the cardboard around her cup, tearing it to tiny pieces like her heart had been for the last few years all thanks to him. Her dream came back to haunt her and remind her of a friendship he’d thrown away when it no longer fit into his new life. He changed everything about who he was to appease parents who acted as though anything he did was never enough. Instead of standing tall as she encouraged him to do, he had crumbled, and the Hugh left behind wasn’t a man she wanted anything to do with.

All his childhood promises of them being together, being a team, being a non-boring couple who took on the world together evaporated, leaving scars of a future she would never have. If they did marry now, it wouldn’t be real, not deep down. She searched for their lost love when she spied him around campus but had yet to see a hint it existed in him. In the beginning, Blair blamed herself for putting him in such a precarious position against his family. He was there for her when she needed him most, and she thought she was there for him.

The only thing Blair did was make his life worse, and he’d tossed her aside because of it. Not that she was completely blameless in the matter, but her actions were derived from his. He’d basically spat in her face with him glaring at her as he had when everything fell apart around them.

“Blair? You’re killing your coffee cup,” Jesse pointed out.

“Oops.” She shuffled the cardboard pieces together in a pile and shoved them into her palm. “Want to be my model this morning?”

“When do I not want to be your model?” she asked.

“Good. What are you doing in a week? My pictures will be up in the gallery downtown.”

Jesse squealed in excitement as students around them looked on with glances of amusement or annoyance. She squeezed Blair so hard she couldn’t breathe. “I told you there’s talent in you.”

“The subject matter helped. You’re a born natural.”

Jesse wrapped her arm through Blair’s as they exited the café and strolled across the grassy lawn. They chatted the few hours away until their classes started, Blair being sure to keep the conversation turned towards Jesse and Mark, or the photographs she snapped of her friend. They stood at the far end of the quad as she peered through the viewfinder at Jesse turned away from her, holding a flower in her left hand, and her other clutched to her chest, though the photo wouldn’t show that. Blair adjusted the angle, but when she zoomed in to capture more of just the flower in Jesse’s hand, she froze. Strutting down the walk was the man himself. She zoomed in further, admiring the way the sun glinted off the sandy brown hair he wore longer, dusting his shoulders, a natural wave making him the envy of many women.

Probably the women surrounding him like damn vultures, too, she thought darkly, zooming out enough to see the gaggle of girls constantly fawning over the richest bachelor in the city.

Blair’s hands trembled as she moved the camera upwards. Her fingers remembered the feel of his strong jaw and the stubble he insisted on having back then, but now he was clean shaven. His sharp cheekbones fit his face perfectly, but his hazel eyes were sharper than they used to be, watching every detail around him intently. She paused when she glanced at his lips, nibbling on her own.

As if he’d sensed her watching, he jerked his gaze in her direction.

“Shit!” She ducked down behind Jesse.

“Blair? Are you all right?”

“I think Hugh saw me,” she hissed in a panic.

“Where?” She watched Jesse’s head turn. “He’s way over there and doesn’t have a camera lens to see you. You’re fine, he’s moving right along with his horde of drooling airheads.”

“You’re sure?”

Jesse turned around and gripped her shoulders to pull her upright. “I’m sure. Why do you freak out when he’s around?”

Sheepishly, she fumbled with her camera. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do, big time freak out.” Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath, tossing the flower up in the air. “No. No way in hell can you still have feelings for him!”

“Shh!” She clamped a hand over her friend’s mouth. “Can you not scream that to the entire campus?” Looking past Jesse, she searched in vain for Hugh but he was gone. “I do not have feelings for him. I don’t like seeing him, is all, or him seeing me. He’s all fancy clothes and perfect hair and I’m…I’m…”

“Blair Fraser, best photographer I know and woman with a wild side and a heart too big for her own good?” Jesse supplied and threw her arm around Blair’s shoulders. “I’m going to ask you once more, are you certain you don’t want me to gatecrash the dinner?”

As much as she wanted her friend there, Blair was a big girl and could take care of herself. “Nah, I’d like Mom to like you since you’re kind of the only friend I have.”

“Fine, but I want details—all the details. Promise?”

Blair grinned when Jesse held up her pinky and wiggled it. “Promise.”

“Good. Now I have to get to class, and you do, too. Catch you in two hours for lunch?”

“Always,” she promised as her friend wandered away. Blair packed up her camera in her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Self-conscious of the bulky sweater she had chosen instead of a top showing off her curves, she tugged on it, stretching it out at the hem, and wondered if skipping her first class of the day would be too detrimental. Mid-terms were next week and then a week of nothing. “Be a good student,” she scolded herself and spun on her heel towards the building behind her.