by Stacy Borel
Copyright © 2013 by Stacy Borel
Cover Design by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations
Editing by Ryn Hughes, Delphi Rose
Interior design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
All rights reserved.
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
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
I was busy packing a small suitcase for my weekend trip back home when my cell phone rang from my bedside table. I knew right away who it was. Grinning, I picked up the phone and without saying hello first I heard, “Bitch, you better have your bags packed and your adorable little ass in your fancy car and on your way to the airport.” My best friend Harper was clearly nervous I was going to bail on her and come up with some last minute excuse not to make the flight back to Mountain Home, Idaho.
I hadn’t been home in almost eight years, and with good reason. However, it had come to Harper’s attention that our ten year class reunion was taking place that weekend. I think she purposely waited until the last minute to beg me to come just so she wouldn’t have to drag me kicking and screaming. This was something she knew I would have avoided at all costs, but Harper lived for these sort things. Sadist that she was, I think she just wanted to go and see just how horrible her old enemies might look and to let them see how incredibly hot she’d become. Harper went through a gangly phase in high school; braces, short choppy hair, no breasts, and secondhand clothing. She’d since blossomed into a stunning woman. Five foot eight—with legs for days—a perpetual tan, dark brown hair that fell to the middle of her back, and green eyes. Guys constantly followed her around like love sick puppies. She claimed it made her nuts but I knew she loved the attention. Harper worked as a Realtor and has owned her own company for five years. It took her some time after high school to figure out what she wanted to do with her life, but when she decided she went after it and she was amazing at what she did. Aside from what she believed were her short comings, she was fiercely loyal, funny, confident, and a total badass.
She’d been my best friend since we were in seventh grade, and I first moved to Mountain Home. I was the new kid in town—my Dad had gotten a new job at a small law firm in the next town over—and starting at a new school was terrifying to me. I didn’t like to stand out. I’d much rather blend in and go about my life without notice. I’d always felt I was an average looking person. Quite short at five foot two, my hair was a very light brown/dark blonde, wavy, and over halfway down my back. I wasn’t super skinny but I did think I had curves in all the right places. I’m not ashamed to admit that my pale blue eyes are my best feature. They have a dark blue ring around the outside of the iris making the lighter color inside stand out in stark contrast. Because I was so short, I can remember walking around the school and not being able to see over the other kids in the hallway. I was lost, unaware of my surroundings, and might as well been blind on my first day. Harper saw me looking totally confused and took me under her wing. We’d been inseparable ever since.
Anyway, no matter how badly I wanted to say a big ‘no thank you’ to seeing people that I couldn’t care less about, I just couldn’t say no to Harper. It wasn’t just me either; it was a well-known fact that saying no to Harper was damn near impossible. She was a force of nature and there was no reasoning with her, which I thought made us a good pair. I was incredibly shy and had a hard time speaking my mind, whereas she let you know exactly where she stood. She’d helped me come out of my shell a lot through the years. I knew Harper needed me to go to the reunion. It was her opportunity to show all the haters and doubters in high school that she had made it. Of course knowing Harper, the language would be a little harsher coming out of her mouth.
“Yes yes, I’m almost done packing. My flight takes off at three and I’ll be landing in Boise at five. I’ll get a rental and go to my parent’s house and text you when I get in. I’m assuming you’re coming over so we can go out?” I asked, throwing a pair of sunglasses into my purse, and tucking my cell phone charger into the front pocket of my suitcase. I knew Harper was going to ream me when she got a load of my clothes from Target and Wal-Mart. She thought because my husband Weston was a big shot lawyer in Chicago, I should take advantage of our wealth and shop at all the big stores that run along the Magnificent Mile. You would think, after knowing me for fifteen years, she would realize that the money meant nothing to me. Quite frankly, I’d rather give up the money if it meant being able to fix my sad excuse of a marriage.
I could practically hear her bouncing up and down on the other end of the line. “You bet your ass we are! I just got a hot new pair of Gucci stilettos and I’m hoping to see some fresh meat out tonight. I haven’t gotten laid in a week!” I giggled at the horror in her voice. “Don’t laugh. This place has slim pickin’s and quite frankly since Finley and Kyler left, I’ve been stuck with average men; the kind that you take home to meet the family. Fuck you, no thanks! I need someone built, dangerous, who isn’t afraid to pull my hair when he’s fucking me.”
My heartbeat picked up just hearing the name Finley. “You promised me he wasn’t going to be in town for this thing. Please tell me that’s still the case? And I by the way, I really don’t need to know how you like to fuck.”
“Don’t worry hon,” Harper sighed. “I checked, double checked, and triple checked the roster and he wasn’t on it. The deadline to sign up has come and gone, so I think it’s safe to say he won’t be there. And maybe a little hair pulling is just what you need?!”
The possibility of seeing my old high school sweetheart, Finley Morgan, was something I’d like to avoid. Back in high school he broke my heart. Well, actually he didn’t so much break my heart as rip it out of my chest, chew it up and spit it into a ravine. Okay so I was probably being a little melodramatic, but give me a break; he was my first love, and I’d thought we were going to be together forever. I never expected him to leave me the night we graduated. Thinking about that night still made me want to run and throw up in a bush. It’s a memory that I put away somewhere in my mind, and I really didn’t want to dredge it back up; let alone see him.
Willing my heart to slow down, I pushed the memory back away and ignored the last part of her statement. “Okay well, I’m super excited to see you! And as much as I’m not willing to go to this thing, it will be nice to see some of our old friends. I swear after marrying Weston I lost touch with just about everyone except you, Mom, and Dad.�
� I continued to talk to her as I walked out of the massive master suite, through the long hallway, and into the open living room. “Anyway, I need to get off the phone so I can say goodbye to West and head out.”
With a tone of distain Harper said, “Well tell the arrogant prick ‘hello’ for me.”
“Yeah sure, I’ll get right on that!”
I hung up the phone, set my suitcase by the front door and walked back into the living room. I hollered out for West but he didn’t answer. As much as I’d love to just leave without telling him goodbye, I wasn’t that kind of wife. I felt like I owed it to Weston to put in some effort. He did save me in a way.
After Finley left me on graduation night, I went through a pretty dark time in my life. Without him there I felt lost… like I was missing a deep-rooted piece of myself. I had a hard time functioning with day-to-day tasks, and even the simple things—like the desire to get up and get dressed or shower—were a huge effort. After about three months of me moping around doing nothing but the bare minimum, my Dad sat me down and told me enough was enough and I needed to snap out of it. He offered me a spot at his small law firm, answering phones and doing most of the filing. Any of the partners or paralegals needed errands to be run or lunch orders filled, that was my job. At least having job meant I had to get out of bed every day to take care of myself. Besides, looking back, I don’t think my Dad was ‘asking’. He was pretty worried when even Harper couldn’t even snap me out of my funk.
My first day at the firm, I’d really wanted to tell my Dad where to stick his job and go bury my head in my pillow. But after about two weeks I got the hang of the duties that had been assigned to me and honestly, as much as I had been dreading it, I ended up enjoying myself. I could zone out while at the office and consequently didn’t spend my whole day focused on Finn; running through all the questions that invaded my mind whenever I thought of him. More than anything, I wanted to avoid thinking about the possibility that he may have moved on. I just couldn’t bear it.
Taking it day-by-day was the only way I was able to get up and do what was expected of me. I wouldn’t say that I moved on, or that every day it got better, because it didn’t. I was essentially the same inside; broken and bruised, and my heart was still bleeding. I missed Finn terribly, and would have done anything to have him back. But I’d heard that he and Kyler had rented a place in LA, and were about to sell their first song to an up-and-coming artist. It hurt to know he had clearly moved on and was fulfilling his dream. I doubt he had given me a second thought while I’d stayed in that godforsaken town and worked for my Dad instead of going off to college, or following him to LA to pursue his music like he always wanted us to.
Before I knew it a full year had passed. My Dad hired a new paralegal who was quickly working his way up to becoming a Partner. Weston waltzed into my life, and for the first time I felt like I could breathe again. Not a full breath, but enough to make me feel like I was living again. While I didn’t initially show any interest in him, West was a persistent man. He laid eyes on me and he wanted me. After weeks of him constantly asking me out on dates, I finally agreed.
I’ll admit to feeling uncomfortable during that first date because I just didn’t think I was good enough for him. Weston was a handsome man. Standing at six feet with brown hair that he wore short—but a little spiked in the front—and dark blue eyes, he could easily have had any woman he wanted. He worked out daily before coming in to the office, so his body looked like it belonged in a magazine.
Our relationship took off after that night. We immersed ourselves in a fast paced romance that ended with him proposing to me one night on top of a mountain. Before I said yes, Finn’s face went through my mind. I had always dreamed of how he might have proposed to me, and how I would have cried and thrown myself into his arms. But that was never going to happen, and almost two years had passed since I had last seen or heard from him. Plus I’d heard he was seeing someone. Whether it was serious or not didn’t quite matter.
Weston and I had a small private wedding outside, by a lake that I had loved since I moved to Idaho. He had wanted something a bit more grand and lavish, but it wasn’t my style and he wanted to give me whatever I wanted. Not long after the wedding, West was offered a job in Chicago, by a firm who had been following his recent successes in the courtroom. This meant a huge move, but I did it for West. The salary package the firm were offering was tempting to say the least and the position would catapult him into the legal spotlight. But eight years had passed since then, and I was no longer the woman that he showered with gifts and showed everyday how much he loved her. We used to spend every waking minute together; taking vacations to the far ends of the earth away from everybody, and relishing each other in seclusion. I always felt he worshiped me, but over the past two years he’d pulled away. He started spending more time at the office, stopped calling me to see how my day was going, and—even when he was at home—he spent more time in his home office than he did cooking with me, or lounging by the pool like he used to do. I wish I knew what had driven this wedge between us but I didn’t have a clue. I’d become so used to being ignored, that I felt like we hardly knew each other anymore. I’d become a ‘stepford wife’; someone for Weston to hold on his arm at company functions.
Walking through the spacious living room and hallway to West’s office, I approached the door. I could hear him talking to someone on the phone, so I quietly opened the door to let him know I was leaving. When he looked up at me, something in his eyes shifted and he told the person on the other end of the phone that he needed to go but would talk to them later. The way he was watching me while he spoke made me feel uneasy, but quite frankly I’d never involved myself in his work affairs, and I wasn’t about to start now.
Walking over to him I sat down on his grand mahogany desk. Looking around his office at the rows and rows of law books stacked on the book-shelves, you’d think we lived in a library. The abundance of deep rich wood in this room always made me feel out of place. I’d never really liked grand and expensive things, but Weston insisted on having it all; not just in his office downtown, but at home too. I’d tried to argue that we didn’t need it all, but our interior decorator managed to convince him that this was all stuff that we needed, and it was money well spent. If you ask me, I’d say Julia Stephens—a well-known Chicago designer—really wanted in Weston’s pocket book, and his pants. Anytime I was around her she’d look at me as though I was beneath her; as if I had no business being married to my wealthy husband. Like she just didn’t see what he saw in me. But frankly, neither did I.
I heard him sigh and look up at him, “I’m leaving and I’ll be back on Monday.” I wished with my whole heart that he would acknowledge me the way a husband in love should, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen.
“Well, I’ll be busy here and at the office throughout the weekend so don’t expect to hear from me. I’ll just say goodbye now. Enjoy your trip,” he said coolly. Ever the business man I thought. I wanted to reach out and touch his cheek to get some sort of emotion from him. I was his wife, and I wanted to feel close to him again. I needed to know that I was enough for him.
I leaned in and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, pulling back and smiling, hoping for something in return. But again I received nothing. Disappointed, I walked away from him and out of the office. I made my way to the foyer where my bags were and grabbed my purse, cell phone, rolling suitcase and keys, and walked out the front door. My heart felt heavy but I hoped I would feel better—and a bit lighter—when I landed in Boise and saw my parents.
I drove my deep red Aston Martin Vanquish along the highway towards the airport. Despite my ability to avoid all things expensive, I had to have this car. It wasn’t available for purchase on the open market, but West had taken on a case for some European big wig and won, so he made them throw this car into the deal. I’d always wanted a red sports car and it was a total dream to drive. All sleek and sexy, the interior was fine black leather. It had too
many buttons to mess with so I just drove the car, without caring what else it did.
I made my way through the Chicago O’Hare airport to their long term parking, making sure to hide my baby at the back so there was less chance of some idiot swinging their door out into her. Gathering my luggage, I made sure to lock up and took a shuttle to check-in.
After a two hour wait in the first class lounge, I boarded a United flight and found my seat. Part of the big deal about flying first class was being served crackers, cheese, and champagne. I wasn’t one to drink too much, but I gladly accepted the champagne to calm my nerves. I wasn’t sure if I felt nervous about actually going back home or some other reason. A reason I knew but didn’t want to admit. A reason I was hoping wouldn’t pop up at the last minute. Home held nothing but memories of Finn. Gulping down the rest of the champagne, I took a deep breath, popped in my headphones and turned on my iPod. Thank god for good music and short flights. Feeling tired, I hit the play button and ‘The First Time’ by Boys Like Girls came on. How fitting I thought to myself, as I dosed off before we’d even left the runway.
We landed in Boise about ten minutes ahead of schedule, which was good because I was more than ready to get off and stretch my legs. Nothing kicked off a weekend away from home like two screaming kids in coach, and a passenger behind me who—despite all the leg room you get in first class—couldn’t keep their knees out of my back.
After exiting the plane I walked down to the baggage claim and waited for my suitcase to come around on the carousel. I looked around at all the passengers and wondered if they were here to see family, there on business, or taking a vacation from life. If I were them, I’d choose the latter.
Spotting my bag, I hauled it and myself over to the Hertz car rental and after filling out all their paperwork, went out of the terminal and saw my car waiting by the curb. I smiled to myself because Weston would have shit his pants if he’d been given this small little Ford Escort. I didn’t need anything fancy or big since it was just me. After loading up the car, I climbed inside, adjusted all my mirrors, and started making my way to the highway headed east. I plugged in my auxiliary cord so I could listen to my music instead of the radio and started blasting All Time Low through the speakers. I loved this band and I was rocking out and singing at the top of my lungs.
