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  Gwen & Seth

  A Pine Valley Novel

  Copyright © 2018 by Mirror Press, LLC

  E-book edition

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles. This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Interior design by Heather Justesen

  Edited by Cassidy Wadsworth Skousen and Lisa Shepherd

  Cover design by Rachael Anderson

  Cover image credit: Deposit Photos #102039262

  Published by Mirror Press, LLC

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Other Pine Valley Novels by Heather B. Moore

  About Heather B. Moore

  Dear Reader,

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  Thank you!

  Heather

  Worth the Risk

  Where I Belong

  Say You Love Me

  Waiting for You

  Gwen Robbins loves her job waitressing at the Pine Valley resort restaurant, and as a single woman she has no trouble turning down offers of dates from the restaurant patrons. Even when her boss, Seth Owens, shows interest in her, she’s not tempted in the least, no matter how strong their attraction.

  But when Seth helps her through a crisis, she begins to see him in a different light. He’s not the rich and privileged business owner she first makes him out to be, but a man who’s making huge sacrifices to follow his own dreams. As Seth encourages Gwen to mend the divide with her family, she realizes her heart is slowly opening toward a better future.

  “Fourth of July isn’t until Thursday,” Alicia told Gwen.

  Gwen smirked at the image of her friend on FaceTime as she put on her American flag earrings and necklace. The Fourth of July might technically be on Thursday this year, but Gwen Robbins loved holidays, and she decided Monday wasn’t too early to start celebrating.

  Gwen pulled her blonde hair into a messy bun. “Are you coming to the homeless shelter with me tomorrow?” she asked Alicia.

  “I have to take my mom to a doctor’s appointment,” Alicia said. “I’m bummed to miss out on those Fourth of July cupcakes you ordered for the shelter, though.”

  “I’ll try to save you one,” Gwen said with a smile. “No guarantees.”

  Alicia laughed. “That’s all right. I should probably cut back on desserts anyway. Chef Pierre sends home way too many leftover desserts with me, since my mom is always hitting me up.”

  Gwen knew Alicia’s mom had some dependency issues, but Gwen had never pried too deeply about it. As far as she was concerned, Alicia was a saint.

  “All right, I’d better go,” Gwen said, holding up her hands to inspect her fingernails. “I think I need to touch up my nails.”

  “Can’t wait to see how creative you get with them.”

  Alicia hung up, and Gwen grabbed her box of nail polish. She had to be to work in about an hour, which was just enough time to redo her fingernails with tiny stripes of red, white, and blue. She’d ordered miniature flag decals online the week before, too, and would add them to each ring finger.

  She and Alicia Waters had become fast friends when they both started working at the five-star-resort Aspen Lodge restaurant. To some, Gwen might be simply a waitress, but with Pine Valley quickly becoming a premium resort town, Gwen’s take-home pay rivaled that of her friends who had college degrees and annual salaries. Besides, she was a night owl.

  Alicia was the hostess, and she usually took off the same day as Gwen to go to the homeless shelter, but this week Gwen was going to the shelter on Tuesday instead of her usual Wednesday.

  The only thing that pulled her out of bed before noon was her volunteer days at the homeless shelter in the next city over. Gwen thought it would be fun to bring a little patriotic cheer to the shelter residents, so she’d put in a huge order for Fourth of July themed cupcakes at the Main Street Café. The cost would be a strain on her waitressing budget, but her homeless friends were worth it and deserved a special treat once in a while.

  Gwen used an Insta-Dri coating on her nails; then she went to her bedroom to get dressed. She pulled on her black slacks, then buttoned up her standard white blouse that made up her uniform. Last, she attached her name badge. Oh, one more thing. Her outfit wouldn’t be complete without some dark red lipstick. Was it weird that Gwen was as excited for holidays as an eleven-year-old kid?

  She grabbed her purse and hurried out of her apartment, then locked the door behind her. She drove a total beater car that she’d nicknamed Marge. If the saying “running on a prayer” was ever to be proved true, Marge could be exhibit A.

  “Come on, Marge.” Gwen slid onto the cracked vinyl seat. The car had a cassette tape deck that didn’t work, so Gwen used her cell phone to listen to music. As she drove toward the ski resort and the Aspen Lodge she passed plenty of luxury cabins. She rarely wondered about the lives behind the blinds and curtains. She knew. She’d grown up in an affluent home and neighborhood, but she was more happy in her small apartment than she’d been surrounded by luxuries.

  Now her vacations consisted of a couple of days off in a row, which she then spent at the homeless shelter. She’d once joined a group of college girlfriends on a vacation to Cancun. After watching her friends party for three straight days, getting puke drunk and not caring which guy ended up in their beds at night, Gwen had vowed never to go on a vacation again with those girls.

  In fact, she’d become tired of the whole privileged Ivy League college mentality and had dropped out of Stanford and ended up at Pine Valley. Big change. But Gwen had never been happier, or at least mostly happy. Her parents had given up on talking her into returning to school, and their communications had been reduced to letters since she’d told them to never call her. All the letters were from them though, letters that Gwen didn’t open.

  Marge puttered up the final incline to the lodge, and Gwen coasted into a parking place. The car died without Gwen having to turn off the ignition. That wasn’t a good sign, but nothing that hadn’t happened previously. By the time Gwen got off her shift later that night, Marge would be cooled off and start up fine. She just didn’t like the summer heat.

  Gwen climbed out of her car, re-tucked in her blouse and walked across the parking lot. Her usual shift was 5:30 p.m. to closing, but she liked to arrive at 5:00 to make sure all the tables had been set right.

  Another car entered the parking lot, its motor an elegant purr compared to Marge.

  “Oh no,” Gwen muttered. “Not him.” She picked up her pace to avoid any one-on-one conversation with the driver of the black Mercedes.

  But she wasn’t fast enough—mainly due to the fact that Se
th Owens had a reserved parking space near the top of the lot. So, by the time she reached the lodge, his path intercepted hers.

  “Hi, Gwen.”

  She couldn’t pretend she didn’t see him. She looked over at Seth—technically her boss—but really, he was just a rich kid whose dad owned the lodge. Well, Seth was a man, not a kid, but Gwen had no doubt he’d been the typical frat boy during his college years. Weekend drinking binges. A string of girlfriends. No credit card limit. And Pine Valley was the perfect place for him to keep living out his ski-bum aspirations.

  Now, she eyed Seth. His blond hair was darker than hers, and his hazel eyes were the kind that even women envied. Gwen suspected he spent his frequent days off golfing or waterskiing to keep his torso trim and those shoulders and arms of his well defined. Not that Gwen wanted to notice these things about her boss. But when you worked with someone on a regular basis—even if that someone only barked orders at you—you started to notice things like how his nails were always trimmed and clean, and how he never shaved on weekends so that by Sunday his scruff made him look even more the ski bum he was.

  Today he wore gray slacks and a pale-green button-down shirt with a tie. Gwen may or may not have noticed how his shirt made his eyes look more green than brown. He always dressed professionally at work, but the slight muss of his hair made it obvious that he was one of those guys who only dressed up for his job.

  Even though Seth’s dad had crowned him the manager of the restaurant, Gwen doubted Seth had any real-world work experience. Seth was just good at delegating—another classic personality trait of the wealthy. Why do something yourself when you can pay someone else to do it for you?

  “Your name’s still Gwen, right?” Seth asked.

  Gwen realized she hadn’t returned his greeting. “Oh, hi. Sorry. Long day.”

  He looked her up and down, wearing that crooked smile of his that always made her skin heat whenever it was directed at her. She might hate everything Seth Owens stood for and represented, but she wasn’t immune to a good-looking man’s appreciation. Not that she ever wanted to mix with his kind again. She’d had her fill growing up among the privileged.

  “Saving the world again?” he said.

  His comment hadn’t been sarcastic, or had it? She wasn’t quite sure, but just in case, she decided to take him down a notch. She stopped walking and turned toward him, folding her arms. “I sincerely regret ever telling you about my volunteer work. What I do during my off hours is none of your business and is certainly not up for discussion.”

  His eyes were extra green in the light of the fading day, and at her retort, they widened. “Hey. I didn’t mean to offend.”

  She narrowed her gaze. He was so hard to read, but she couldn’t tell if he was being serious or teasing. Was there a glimmer of amusement in those baby greens? Typical frat boy. Seth had to know how much he got under her skin, and it was as if his sole purpose at the restaurant was to push her as far as he could. Gwen had complained to Alicia more than once, but Alicia said Seth acted the same way around all the other employees.

  Okay, so maybe Gwen wasn’t being singled out, and she shouldn’t be so sensitive, but keeping her mouth shut wasn’t one of her virtues.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, boss.” She moved past him, and he barely stepped out of the way, avoiding a collision, as she reached the front doors of the restaurant. The valets had yet to arrive, and Alicia probably wasn’t here yet either. So Gwen would busy herself wherever Seth wasn’t being busy himself.

  Before she could open the door, Seth reached around her and pulled it open.

  She hated that he was one-upping her. And she hated that he smelled good—a mixture of spice and pine and just . . . fresh—like he’d showered recently. After his all-day golf game, of course.

  She walked through the doors, ignoring the way her pulse drummed at his nearness. They hadn’t touched at all, but his close proximity always put her on high alert. It was like her drop-out-college-girl-self was forming a protective bubble against the stereotypical guy she’d always despised.

  First thing, in order to distract herself, she walked to the hostess stand and opened the reservations folder. She liked to be somewhat familiar with the evening’s patrons and know if there were any who’s who coming into the restaurant so she could pre-plan the seating arrangements.

  While she was looking at the reservation list, Seth continued toward her, on his way to the kitchen, where he’d taste test the various sauces that Chef Pierre would be stirring up. Seth acted as if he knew the difference between basil and rosemary, but Gwen thought he was one-hundred percent winging it, trying to impress, for whatever reason.

  Another thing on her list about Seth Owens to be annoyed about.

  “By the way,” he said as he moved past her, his voice low, “love the earrings.”

  Gwen didn’t move, and likely didn’t breathe, until Seth had disappeared through the double swinging doors that led to the kitchen. She wouldn’t let his compliment cross off any of his many faults. Besides, how could she be sure he wasn’t making fun of her? Although, he’d rarely made comments about her appearance—not like her co-workers did. No one had been negative, but it was more of an affectionate teasing. The restaurant patrons were the ones who were most likely to comment on the pattern of her nails or her choice of earrings.

  “Hi,” Alicia said, coming in through the front doors.

  Gwen smiled at her friend. “Hey you, you’re early.”

  “Yeah. My mom was in a bad mood, so I came over.” Alicia joined Gwen at the hostess stand. “Distract me, please.”

  “New dress?” Gwen asked.

  Alicia looked great in her black, fitted dress. She rotated through a few dresses for her hostess position, but Gwen hadn’t seen this one before.

  “Yeah, got it on Amazon, if you can believe it,” Alicia said with a smirk. “Forty bucks.” She had the perfect appearance for a hostess of an exclusive restaurant. She was tall, elegant, well-spoken, and had a sereneness about her that Gwen envied.

  “I love a good bargain.” Gwen rubbed a hand over her collar bone in a nervous gesture. “Here’s the reservation list. It looks like the city mayor is coming in with a group.”

  “Good to know.” Alicia took the reservation list, then her gaze went back to Gwen’s. “What’s got you all flustered?”

  Gwen furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

  “I can just tell.”

  “Oh.” Gwen gave a short laugh. “I already had a run-in with the boss. Nothing I can’t forget after the next six hours on my feet. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.”

  “Yeah, helping at the shelter always puts things into perspective,” Alicia said.

  “Yep.” Gwen’s phone chimed. She’d forgotten to turn it off. “Although I wish I could have gone on my usual Wednesday to deliver the cupcakes—closer to the holiday, you know.”

  “I’ll be working Wednesday too,” Alicia said. “It’s already booked solid.” Then she did a weird buggy thing with her eyes, and Gwen got the hint that Seth had just come out of the kitchen.

  “I’ll check on the tables.” Gwen turned from Alicia and hurried into the dining area.

  She didn’t know if Seth had heard her, but she wasn’t sticking around to find out.

  The night at the restaurant seemed to drag for whatever reason, and maybe the reason was that Seth Owens had determined to speak to Gwen after their work shift. He thought luck had found him when he arrived in the parking lot before her shift earlier that night. But she was obviously bothered about something that he decided to wait to bring up helping him at the barbeque.

  His parents were hosting a private barbeque the night of the Fourth, and he wanted the food catered from the Aspen Lodge, to promote the restaurant. The place didn’t normally cater, especially since the dinner reservations on the night of the Fourth had been booked out for weeks. Patrons wanted to be able to eat steak and sip wine while having great views of the fireworks show.


  The view would be spectacular from Seth’s parents’ place as well. But he needed help to pull off his plan. He couldn’t really afford to pull any of his employees off the job. But Gwen could easily fulfill the role of both hostess and server while Seth managed the food—and that way he’d only need to understaff the lodge by one person. Some of the food would be from Aspen Lodge’s kitchen, but Seth planned to make a few of the dishes himself. Not that his father would approve, but Seth didn’t plan on telling anyone until, well, he was in the kitchen doing the preparations on the morning of the Fourth. By then it would be too late for his father to complain.

  Seth’s father had practically disowned him when Seth accepted a culinary internship a few years ago in Paris. He’d been halfway through his hospitality and restaurant management degree when one of his professors handed him the application. Seth had loved to cook all his life, it seemed. But it wasn’t until college that he’d learned the science behind cooking and begun to experiment with different recipes.

  When the year in Paris was over, his father said if he wasn’t offered a head chef position, then he needed to return to California and finish his degree. Politics and seniority status meant that Seth was at the bottom of the employment chain no matter how good of a chef he was. After swallowing a big piece of humble pie, Seth returned to the States and finished his degree.

  After graduation, he’d worked his way up in management at one of his dad’s restaurant chains in Sacramento, and when the Pine Valley opportunity opened up, Seth had bought into the ownership. It wasn’t like he’d done much with the money his years of salary had brought him. He’d rented an apartment with a couple other single guys, splitting rent and utilities, and saved money.

  “Seth?” Alicia came into the manager’s office, where Seth had started the night’s accounting to make sure the receipts matched up with the intake.