***
The women talked well into the evening and, in the end, Rosalind spent the night on Allie’s couch. They only briefly discussed the disease, Allie admitting that she’d not bothered to read anything about it, and that, if she were honest, she didn’t care. She knew enough to know that her days were now numbered, all she wanted to do was enjoy them while they lasted.
Naturally, Rosalind expressed concern and urged Allie to go back to the doctor, or to at least consider the possibility of chemotherapy. But she realized, even as she was speaking, that Allie’s mind was firm.
By the Sunday morning, Allie wasn’t sure whether she felt better or worse for having unburdened herself. In some ways, it was a relief to no longer carry the secret of her illness alone. On the other hand, spending the night talking about cancer and death had put those things back at the forefront of her mind and depressed her deeply. What she need, desperately, was a new distraction. Another man, another old flame, another good fuck.
Hustling Rosalind into the shower and inviting her to raid her wardrobe, Allie settled on the floor by her coffee table and opened her laptop. As she waited for the computer to come to life, she allowed herself to drift back over the years; searching for faces that she’d like to see again. Her brain slowed in its hunt, lingering over a man she’d met at a journalists’ conference the summer before. He’d given her his card and asked her to call, but she’d never bothered. In fact, she’d stupidly tossed the card in the trash when she’d got home. However, she did remember that he worked for the LA Times and his name was Mitch, so he should be traceable.
Going straight to the Los Angeles Times’ site, she began scrolling through articles, only glancing at the by-line of each. Eventually, she found one written by Mitch Hatley. “Hatley,” she mumbled. “That’s it.” As she spoke, she clicked on his contact address and wrote a quick note, simply mentioning where they’d met and asking him to contact her.
With that done, she logged onto her email account and was struck by the number of alerts she’d been sent from Facebook. Several people, some she was certain she’d never met, had added her as a friend. However, one name stood out among the rest. Quickly, she opened a new browser and signed into the site, eager to read the private message he’d left her. It was brief, but it sent a delightful shiver down her spine.
‘Allie, so good to see you on here! I know it’s been a long time since high school, but hope you remember me. Funny enough, I’ve been living in San Francisco for a year. I had no idea you were working for the Chronicle - that’s nothing against the paper, I just don’t read the news. Anyway, the point is, I would have got in touch sooner if I’d known you were so close. Would be amazing to see you.’
“Who’s Reece?” the question was asked just before a crunch of toast echoed around the room.
Startled, Allie wrenched her neck around to find Rosalind leaning on the back of the couch peering at the laptop screen. “For God’s sake,” she muttered, trying to catch her breath from the fright. “He’s…umm,” she added, trying to regain some composure. “He’s…”
“He’s hot,” Rosalind offered, glad to have something lighthearted to concentrate on after the soul-draining conversation of the night before. Her head tilting to the side, as she tried to get a better look of the small profile picture in the corner of the message.
Allie cast her gaze back to the screen and noted that Rosalind was right. Reece had always been attractive, but he had grown even more so with age. His dark, almost black hair was cut in an Ivy league style with just a few strands of his short bangs clinging damply to his forehead. Although she could only see his head and shoulders, it certainly seemed as though he was topless and the bright azure sky suggested that he was on a beach somewhere. His grin was as bright and wide was always, causing his deep brown eyes to sparkle.
“So, you know him?” Rosalind asked, nudging her friend from her assessment of the image.
“Err, yeah,” she responded, peering reluctantly over her shoulder. “We were at high school together.”
“Oh,” Rosalind replied, taking another loud bite of toast. “You were close?” she probed.
“Well,” she hedged. “Yeah,” she acknowledged, unable to keep her focus on the woman behind her and allowing her eyes to move back to Reece’s. “We dated for a while. He was my first love,” she added quietly.
“Really?” Rosalind said grinning. “Well, why the hell did you let him go?”
Allie chuckled, dipping her head. “We went to different colleges and just drifted apart,” she admitted, wondering why she’d let that happen.
“And?” Rosalind urged.
“And what?”
“Are you going to see him?”
“Oh,” Allie blurted. “I’m not sure,” she shrugged.
“What?” Rosalind almost shouted, rounding the couch and throwing herself on to it. Quickly leaning forwards, she rested her chin on Allie’s shoulder as she tried to get a better glimpse of him. “Why the hell wouldn’t you want to see him again?” she demanded. “Was he an ass?” she quickly added, not waiting for a response. “Did he cheat, lie?”
“No, no,” Allie shook her head. “Nothing like that.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Allie silently gazed at the picture of a happy, handsome, hunky Reece. “He’s not like the others,” she eventually explained.
“Because he really meant something to you,” Rosalind offered. It was phrased as though it could have been a question, but they both knew it wasn’t.
“I wouldn’t want to ruin what we had before,” Allie nodded.
“Well,” Rosalind said thoughtfully, leaning back on the couch and popping the last piece of toast into her mouth. “I don’t see how you can ruin what you had. That’ll never change,” she said sagely, the words muffled by crunching. “But you have got a chance to add to those memories.”
Allie cocked her head to the side, still staring at the computer screen. “I suppose,” she reluctantly agreed. As far as she was concerned, although Rosalind’s logic was sound, it didn’t mean things would work out that way.
“Look,” Rosalind announced, leaning forward once more and placing both hands on Allie’s shoulders. “I don’t necessarily agree with the way you’re dealing with things,” she said. “But,” she quickly added, knowing that Allie would simply repeat the same arguments she’d put forward the night before. “In the spirit of having no regrets, I think you’d be really stupid not to make the most of this.”
3 Book Romance Bundle: "Her Last Love Affair" & "Loving Him Peacefully" & "Unwelcome Reunion" Page 11
