years.â
Clara eyed him with amusement. âA red rose speaks of a love that awaits passionate expression. Red itself is the color of consummation, raging desire and craving passion.â
He felt a heated flush rise to his face. âCome on. Youâre embarrassing me.â
She grinned. âBottom of the column of four, how others see you.â She turned the card. âKing of Pentacles. You see yourself as a failure, the outside world sees someone in control, in charge, capable of taking care of others. Next is the card of hope and fear.â She revealed the next card. âAce of Cups reversed. You have no hope of love. You fear being alone forever, viewing the cup as half empty instead of half full.â Her words held a hint of sadness and chiding, as if she wanted him to change.
How could he? Jasonâs stomach constricted at the accurate description. A lifetime of work and dreams had ended with one urine test. Heâd lost everything in an instant.
âThird card in this row. Your obstacle. Ten of Pentacles. The card of community fulfillment. In order to get to your outcome, you need to rejoin the community on all levels.â She lifted her eyes from the cards set out on the table and met his gaze. âStop hiding behind your past.â
He decided not to argue. There was no point.
âLast card.â
He found himself relieved that his torture was almost at an end. Clara meant well but all her hocus-pocus had accomplished was to make himmore aware of his failures and how heâd allowed one mistake to control his life for too long. He was tired of being grumpy and miserable all the time.
Heâd returned to Stewart and set up a contracting business. It was an obvious choice. To raise money for snowboarding, heâd worked for his father and Uncle Hankâs electrical and contracting business, so the work was familiar. But instead of enjoying it, heâd been going through the motions.
Maybe the cards were right, he thought wryly. Maybe it was time to put the past behind him and move on. At the very least he needed to get rid of some pent-up sexual frustration.
âReady?â Clara asked.
He nodded, wanting this over. âWhat the hell. Show it to me.â
She revealed the final card. âTen of Cups.â A large smile spread over Claraâs face. âDo you see the white picket fence?â She splayed her hands in front of her. âThis goes perfectly with the red mask, the ultimate expression of romantic and abiding love.â She sighed on the last word. âDo you know what this means?â
âNo, but Iâm sure youâre going to tell me.â
âThe cards show you have the potential for happily ever after, Jason.â She smiled.
Those words conjured up another time.
Another place.
Another woman.
Heâd been eighteen years old, working and trying to save money to fund his snowboarding. Sheâd been seventeen and visiting for the summer. He was a Corwin. She was a Perkins. Sheâd had some starry-eyed notion of them running off together. Heâd had selfish dreams of Olympic gold that didnât have room for anyone else.
Even if he sometimes wished they had.
He often wondered what would have happened if her grandmother hadnât sent her packing. If heâd gone looking for her once heâd had enough cash. But he hadnât. Heâd used the money to build a name for himself. Hire a coach. Chase a dream that wasnât meant to be.
âWhat are you thinking about?â Clara asked, interrupting his thoughts.
âAbout how you should give me a break.â Heâd humored her up until now, but she was bordering on delusional if she thought she could convince him he was headed for a fairy-tale ending.
He hadnât thought about Lauren in years. When her family had fallen apart a year ago, heâd been far from home, immersed in practice, and she hadnât been around since heâd