Pet phrase? The eyes don’t lie.
Biggest regret in life? That he never forgave his father.
Dream job. Already had it.
Secret talent? He can use his tongue to tie a cherry stem into a knot.
A few minutes later, Danielle came rushing back in.
“I’ve got to get on a flight back to Boston.”
Cassidy stared at her. “What? Tonight?”
“Yep. Duty calls, this time in the form of a breakfast meeting. I’m really sorry, but I’ve literally got to run or I’m going to miss the last flight out. We’ll catch up more soon, OK?”
“Sure.”
Danielle reached for her wallet, but Cassidy waved her away. “Go, go, I’ve got it.”
“Thanks, hon. Keep me posted on high-school guy.”
Cassidy had just taken off her dress and was putting away the ironing board when she heard the chime of her phone. She hurried over to her desk and smiled to see Brandon’s name on the display.
Hi, sorry not to have texted earlier, am buried with work and am still at the office. I think I found a place for my mom, am going to try to get her moved in there this weekend. How was your first day back in NYC? I hear the weather’s pretty nasty out there. Missing you.
Still feeling blissful from her productive day, and emboldened by the wine she’d drunk at Bin 71, she typed a flirtatious reply.
Hi back! So far, so good, got a ton of writing done today. Just got home from meeting a friend for a drink, you’ve literally caught me in my bra and underwear putting away the ironing board. I must have a serious addiction to texting…or to something…to be responding right now.
Her phone chimed seconds after she sent that:
I’d like to see that. You know how to iron?
She hesitated for a moment, wondering if he meant what she hoped he did, then decided to see for herself:
Are you saying you’d like to see me in my bra and underwear? Or see me iron?
Another chime came as she hung up her dress:
Both.
She felt slightly shy but also thrilled. She stared at the screen. Should she do it? She’d never taken a racy photo of herself, much less texted one to a man.
She set down the phone, then stepped into the hall and looked at the full-length mirror hanging on the open bathroom door.
They’d shared only one passionate kiss. Maybe a photo would make him want another one as much as she did.
She bit her lip, then picked up the phone and walked toward the mirror before she lost her nerve. She ran the fingers of her free hand through her hair and took a deep breath.
Am I really doing this?
She turned slightly to one side, titled her hips like the celebrities in magazines always seemed to do, then held up the phone and pressed the photo button.
Click.
Oh my God, I really did it!
She inspected the picture. The automatic flash had blocked out most of her face, which gave the shot an air of mystery, which she liked. Her bra and underwear were both black cotton, which almost made it look like she was wearing a swimsuit. Contrary to what she’d feared, the photo didn’t look tasteless at all. She saw it as sporty and a bit fun, adjectives she liked to believe fit her fairly well. She also appeared to be in pretty good shape. Then again, she’d had some wine. Though she didn’t drink much anymore, she still knew that everyone looked better after a couple of glasses of wine.
She nibbled on her fingernail for just a moment, then decided to act before she changed her mind. She sent the picture, set the phone on the bathroom sink, then shut the door and ran down the hall into her bedroom to change into her pajamas, closing that door too.
She pressed her palms against her forehead and laughed.
I can’t believe I just did that!
Less than a minute later, she heard her phone chime through both closed doors.
She exited her bedroom and walked slowly toward the bathroom. She opened the door and reached for the phone.
Her hand flew up to cover her smile as she read the message.
I’m an idiot for not taking advantage of that while you were here.
Emboldened by his reaction, she typed a quick reply:
Is that so?
It is so. I may have to plan another trip to New York…
You’re welcome to visit anytime.
Let me get through this crazy period at work and get things sorted out with Mom. But I love New York.
Do you want to visit New York, or visit me?
You’re the incentive. New York is the bonus.
You’re not just saying that?
I don’t just say things, Cassidy. I want to see you.
The feeling is mutual.
I’m glad to hear that.
I’ll be home in a few weeks for the holidays.
I’m glad about that too. Now I really need to stop texting you and finish this brief. Thanks for the picture. I love it.
Chapter Sixteen
BY THURSDAY IT was beginning to feel like Groundhog Day to Cassidy. For the third day in a row, she awoke to the jarring ring of her alarm clock and reluctantly forced herself out of bed. When she glanced out of the window it was raining again, the sky dark and ominous.
Half-asleep, she shuffled into the bathroom, wishing she felt more motivated to get on the stationary bike. As she brushed her teeth, she looked at herself in the mirror, then suddenly realized something.
That scrape on my nose should have healed by now.
Not so tired anymore, she set down her toothbrush and leaned closer to the mirror. She examined the tiny mark and wondered how long it had been there. Two months? Three months? She couldn’t remember the first time she’d noticed it.
Was it a scrape?
Or a scab?
She peered at it.
What is that?
She felt a tightening in her chest as she immediately assumed the worst.
“Hey, neighbor, fancy meeting you here.”
She looked up from her magazine and saw Harper standing in front of the stationary bike she was riding. “Hi, Harper. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work by now?” It was just after nine.
He cleared his throat. “I took a personal day. Listen, I’m glad I ran into you because I was going to text you anyway. Are you free for dinner tonight? My treat. I want to talk to you about something.”
“Is everything OK?”
“I’ll explain at dinner. Are you free?” His voice sounded a little strange, and she wondered what was going on with him. She was worried enough with her concern about her nose right now.
“I think so.” She mentally scanned her calendar and was pretty sure it was clear, although she could never be certain without that little book in front of her. “You sure you don’t want to talk here?”
He shook his head. “I’d prefer to wait. Plus I’d like to buy you dinner to thank you for getting me started on the essays.”
She wiped her forehead with a towel. “OK, but don’t think I won’t be on your case to finish them. You can butter me up all you want, but those essays aren’t going to write themselves, and I’m not going to write them for you.”
He didn’t laugh, which surprised her. Harper always laughed when she teased him. Instead all he said was. “Meet me in the lobby at seven thirty?”
She gave him a curious look. “All right, sure.”
Nigel, Cassidy’s editor, called her that afternoon while she was sitting at her desk.
She picked up the phone. “I’m working on it right now, I promise. I can text you a photo of my laptop screen if you want.”
He laughed. “You make me feel like your mother. How’s it coming along?”
“It’s getting there. It’s not unfold
ing quite as I’d expected, but then again, they never do. I still have no idea what I’m going to do about the ending, but I’m confident it’ll come to me eventually.”
“I’m not worried. How did the keynote go?”
Cassidy felt her face get hot. “OK.”
“Just OK?”
“I got a bit nervous.”
“The powers that be thought you did fine.”
“They did?”
“Yes. The program coordinator just called and asked if you’d be up for speaking at another event.”
Cassidy sat up straight. “Really?” A second chance.
“Their organization’s having a similar conference for women in San Francisco, so you’d be speaking on the same topic.”
“When?”
“The middle of February. I think she said the sixteenth. Are you interested?”
Cassidy nodded into the phone. “Sure, count me in.” Not only was this a chance to redeem herself, but she was thrilled at the thought of another trip to the Bay Area, especially after Brandon’s reaction to that photo she’d sent him. Assuming the time they spent together over the holidays went well, it would be nice to know she’d be back in California soon thereafter.
“Excellent. I’ll send you an e-mail when I have the details. I also want to get a meeting on the books to talk about your novel. Would the second Wednesday in December work for you? That will give me a little more than a week to read it after you send in the manuscript.”
“Are you just doing this to make sure I meet my deadline?”
“Perhaps. Will it work?”
She laughed. “Probably. The fear of letting you down is a powerful motivator.”
“I’m not worried. I know you can do it.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get back to writing so I don’t let you down.”
“Cool beans. Now go get ’em, cowgirl.”
She hung up the phone and jotted down their December meeting in her calendar, then slowly flipped through the pages. She nibbled on her thumbnail and stared at another appointment she’d just scheduled.
This one with a dermatologist.
She lightly touched the scape on her nose with her index finger.
It’s probably nothing, right?
It doesn’t even hurt.
She stood up and walked into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She leaned her hip against the counter for a few minutes, trying to stop thinking about it but not having much luck.
Stop worrying. I’m sure I’m fine.
But what if I’m not?
She finished the water and set the glass in the sink, then walked straight to her desk and picked up her phone. She suddenly wanted to tell someone about her nose, and she wanted that someone to be Brandon. He’d opened up to her, and now she wanted to do the same.
His phone went straight to voice mail, so she left a message:
“Hey, it’s Cassidy. I, um, I have some news. There’s something strange on my nose that isn’t going away. I just made an appointment with a dermatologist. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I have to admit I’m a bit anxious. Anyhow, I wanted to tell you. I hope you’re having a good day.”
She hung up the phone and immediately felt better. It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of a man, even if it was only in a voice mail.
“Where are you taking me?”
Harper held open the cab door. “Landmarc in the Time Warner Center. Have you been there?”
Cassidy shrugged as she climbed inside. “I haven’t, but as we both know, that means nothing.” She had long ago given up on trying to stay current on the happening places to eat. She gratefully let Danielle and Harper do that for her, since they cared way more about that sort of thing than she did.
The taxi dropped them off at Columbus Circle, and together they took the escalator to the third floor. The place was buzzing, and as the hostess led them through the modern décor to their table, Cassidy was reminded yet again of why she loved living in Manhattan. Where else could you find a trendy, packed restaurant on the third floor of anything?
After they’d ordered salads and entrees and each had a glass of wine in front of them, Harper cleared his throat just as Cassidy was about to eat a piece of focaccia.
“I have something important to tell you.”
She froze, then slowly set down the bread. She stared at the table for a moment before reluctantly looking up at him, silently praying he wouldn’t utter the words a part of her had long feared he might.
“What’s up?” She forced a smile and tried to look casual. Please don’t mess up our friendship.
He paused for a moment, then took a deep breath.
“I’m…not applying to business school.”
That’s the big confession? Relieved, she picked up the piece of bread again. “Why not?”
This time he was the one who stared at the table.
“Harper, you there?” She waved a hand in front of his face.
Finally, he regained eye contact. “I’m not applying to business school because…Vanessa’s pregnant.”
Cassidy dropped the bread.
“She’s pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“But just yesterday you told me you’d broken up with her.”
He sighed. “She called me late last night and told me she’d just taken a pregnancy test.”
“Oh my God. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to be a father, apparently.”
“She’s keeping it?”
He nodded, and despite the dim light she noticed a few bags under his eyes she hadn’t seen this morning at the gym. She wondered if he’d slept at all last night. No wonder he’d taken a personal day.
“Oh, Harper. I…I don’t know what to say.” She couldn’t believe how wrong she’d been about what he’d wanted to tell her tonight.
He picked up his wineglass. “It’s OK, you don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”
“So what happens now?”
“I’m not sure. Vanessa and I need to figure that out. We need to figure out a lot of things, so unfortunately, applying to business school’s just not very high on my list right now.”
Cassidy stared at him, stunned. She felt nothing but compassion and wracked her brain for the right words of support, but despite the thousands she’d poured onto paper over the years, the only ones she could find right now were: “I’m so sorry.”
They came out as a whisper.
Back at their apartment building, Cassidy hugged Harper good-bye and exited the elevator on her floor, then walked slowly down the hall to her apartment.
Poor Harper.
Just yesterday he had his whole life ahead of him. Now he was having a child with a woman he’d dated for only a few weeks.
Life really can change on a dime.
That made her think of the spot on her nose, and she reached into her purse, eager to see Brandon’s response to her voice mail about it. She hadn’t checked her phone all evening, not wanting to be rude after Harper had shared his life-changing news with her. She hoped there was nothing for her to be concerned about, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be, and she was grateful to be able to share her anxiety with someone other than her parents, whom she hadn’t told. She hadn’t even been to see a doctor yet, and the last thing she wanted was to alarm them without knowing if there was anything wrong. She could have told Patti or Danielle, but telling Brandon had felt like a step forward in their relationship.
She looked at the screen.
There were no messages.
Chapter Seventeen
CASSIDY WOKE UP the next morning feeling something uncomfortably familiar.
Dread.
&
nbsp; Why hadn’t Brandon replied to her voice mail?
She hated that this was her first thought of the day.
She looked at the phone on her nightstand. Maybe he’d texted while she was sleeping?
She hated that this was her second thought of the day.
When did I become so dependent on him?
She sat up in bed and stretched her arms over her head, then reached over and picked up the phone.
There was a new text message.
It was from Brandon, sent last night at just after ten o’clock his time.
Sorry it took so long to reply. Have been swamped. Sorry about your nose. Sounds like sun damage.
She read it three times.
That was his response?
Had it really taken him that long to get around to listening to her voice mail? Or had he listened to the message but not replied until hours later?
In her mind those were two very different scenarios.
She set down the phone and shuffled into the bathroom.
At least he got back to me, right?
She tried to believe that was what mattered, but she wasn’t all that convinced.
From there on out, Cassidy immersed herself in her novel, ordering meals for delivery and leaving her apartment only to ride the stationary bike. The exercise helped clear her head and also kept her from worrying so much about her nose, or Brandon, or about when her injured Achilles tendon would heal.
As for the book, she was approaching the finish line now, and she was pleased with how the story was turning out. The only thing still up in the air was the ending. She kept going back and forth between two distinct scenarios for the final scene with Emma and Jeremy—one happy, one not so happy—and soon she was going to have to stop waffling and make a decision. She was tempted to pick up the phone and ask Nigel for advice on which way to go, but she knew it was important to her growth as a writer to figure it out on her own. The right ending would reveal itself to her if she just relaxed, let go of her preconceptions, and let it happen.
At four o’clock the third day, she hit a wall and decided it was time to take a break from her self-imposed exile. She glanced out the window to see if it was still raining. The sky was cloudy and dark but the street looked dry, so she stood up and pulled a parka and knitted hat off the coatrack. She’d been holed up inside for too long; suddenly she needed some fresh air.
Cassidy Lane Page 18
