Kiss Me Now

by Wylder, Penny

  I grit my teeth, staring at my useless phone for a solid minute before I come to a decision. If I can’t reach Cassidy right now, that’s all right. There’s still one more confrontation I need to get out of the way before I really lay everything bare to Cassidy anyway. And it’s a fight I should have finished a long time ago now, if I’m honest. Cassidy is just the push in the right direction that I’ve needed all along. A reason—the ultimate reason—to tie up my loose ends once and for all.

  Unlike Cassidy, Sheryl answers on the first ring. “Darling,” she says, her voice a low purr, the same way she always says that, even though I’ve been asking her to stop it for months now.

  My jaw tightens reflexively. I can’t believe I used to find that endearing. Her tone sounds so fake to me now, so transparent. “We need to talk,” I say.

  “About what?” Still that lighthearted, innocent tone. As if she doesn’t know exactly what I’m about to say.

  “I want to finalize it.”

  There’s a long, weighty pause on the other end of the line. At least she doesn’t ask me what I mean. Part of me expected her to stay in denial right up until the bitter end. “We’ve talked about this, Lark.” When Sheryl speaks again, her cutesy tone is gone. She’s all business now. “It’s not in either of our best interests.”

  “Actually, I think it would be in both of our best interests. Don’t you want to start fresh, Sheryl? Find someone who can actually give you what you’re looking for?” I glare at myself in the reflective glass of my apartment building.

  “The last thing I want is to start over at my age, Lark,” she snaps. “And I can’t believe you’re still talking about doing this, after all the work we’ve done in therapy.”

  “You know the only reason I signed up for those sessions,” I bite out, my voice dropping. “I’m done doing this. I’m done pretending. Sign the goddamn papers.”

  She laughs. Actually laughs. “Fat chance. I know what you want, darling. And unless you’re okay with giving it up, then face it. I’m going to get what I want eventually.”

  “What you’re asking is unfair,” I reply, trying to keep my voice as even as possible. Calm and collected. Even though my pulse is beating hard, and I swear a vein at my temple is about to pop.

  “Not according to our pre-nup, it isn’t,” she says in a sing-song voice.

  I clench my fist around my phone. “This isn’t the situation we were anticipating at all, and you know it.”

  “Too bad. It’s the situation we’ve wound up in, darling. So if you want to end it, fine by me. You already know my price. Otherwise? Well, just think about it. What I’m asking for isn’t so bad, darling. We’ve been there before. We made it work, once.”

  “That was before I knew who you really were,” I reply, unable to help rising to her bait.

  All it earns me is another long, low laugh. “Please. You liked my ambition when we first started dating, Lark. You should have known this is what it entailed. You should have known I wouldn’t give up on us without a hell of a fight.”

  “There is no us anymore, Sheryl. There hasn’t been for a long, long time.”

  There’s a pause on the other end. A faint intake of breath. I think maybe I’ve finally hit a nerve. But then her voice drops again, dangerously low. “It’s that new investment isn’t it? The Marks bitch. She’s exactly your type. Doe-eyed and dumb.”

  “Don’t talk about her like that.” I scowl at my own reflection.

  “Not denying it, are you? Interesting. I wonder what she’d say if I told her the truth about us.”

  “You’ve done enough damage already, believe me.” I shut my eyes. I need to stop giving her a rise. I need to stop letting her get under my skin so easily. “Just sign the goddamn papers Sheryl. I’ll have the lawyer bring them by your office tomorrow.”

  “Then I’ll see you in court the day after tomorrow,” she retorts. And I know exactly what she’ll be gunning for.

  “You know what?” I’m at the end of my tether. “Fine. Let’s play this out. But you leave Cassidy out of this, or believe me, I will make it a thousand times worse on you.”

  “As if you have the guts,” she hisses, just before I disconnect the call.

  It doesn’t matter. Sheryl doesn’t matter anymore. She’s my past. Even if it ruins me to claw my way free from her, I’m going to do it. Because I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t dance on her leash. Not now that I’ve met Cassidy, now that I’ve tasted what true happiness could be like.

  Whatever happens now, whether she accepts me or not, I’m choosing Cassidy. If I wind up alone and heartbroken, at least I can say I gave it my all.

  I shove my phone into my back pocket and stride across the apartment, grabbing my coat along the way. It’s time to make this right, once and for all.

  24

  Cassidy

  I stare across my wine glass at my mother, on the opposite end of the restaurant table. Behind her, the lights of the city glimmer. We’re on a rooftop, one of the slightly bougie ones in midtown that I’ve never actually been to before but always wanted to try.

  Between us on the table are two finished plates of steak. The portions were, naturally, ridiculously small. But the food was delicious. And at least the sides had a bit more meat to them—metaphorically speaking, anyway—so I’m decently full. And it feels nice. It feels good, to reconnect.

  We’ve spent the whole meal catching up. Mom told me some hilarious stories about a guy she was dating for a few months, a firefighter in her town who sounds like he was more entertaining than an actual prospect. But at least he’s got a real, regular job. He’s not like her usual types. It sounded like she actually had fun with him, even if it was only for a little while.

  It also sounds like she wasn’t actually using him for cash.

  “So, what are you doing these days?” I ask her, because she just ordered us another bottle of one of the mid-range wines to split, and I can’t help it. Even though she told me on the phone it would be her treat tonight, I can’t shake the sneaking suspicion that there’s something else she wants. That this is some kind of setup.

  How terrible of a daughter am I? whispers a voice in the back of my head. That I’m suspecting my own mother of setting me up, just because she invited me out to a nice meal.

  God, maybe my head really is messed up. Maybe I don’t have any idea how to trust anyone, anymore.

  “Oh, you know.” Mom waves a hand, grinning at me over the rim of her wine glass. I really don’t, actually. “This and that, trying things out, seeing what I enjoy.”

  I run my tongue along the inside of my cheek, resisting my gut instinct, which is to keep pressing her until she admits she’s unemployed, yet again. Maybe you’re leaping to conclusions, Cassidy. Before I can actually reply, though, Mom leans forward, setting her glass back down.

  “You know, Cassidy.” She stretches her hands across the table, palms up. After a moment’s hesitation, I place my hands in hers, and bite back a wince when she squeezes my fingers too tightly. “I’m really proud of you. I don’t tell you that enough, and I’m sorry for that. But it’s so exciting what you’ve been building for yourself. Your whole little makeup empire.” She winks and squeezes my fingers one last time before releasing me. “You must be so happy. It’s everything you’ve always wanted, no?”

  “Yeah,” I reply, a smile stretching across my face. “It is.”

  “And now that you’ve finally got those career goals out of your system, I’m sure the right man will come along soon too.” Mom’s grin widens. “After all, men love a successful woman these days, don’t they?”

  My cheeks flush, and my gaze drops before I can help myself. “I guess.” When I look back up again, Mom’s frowning this time.

  “What’s wrong?” She tilts her head, narrowing her gaze. “Is there someone you haven’t mentioned?” She straightens in her seat, her eyes brightening. “Did Norman come back into the picture?”

  My stomach knots at the sudden, unexpect
ed mention of his name. “No,” I snap, a little too loudly and harshly. A couple at the neighboring table glance over, and Mom raises a disapproving eyebrow.

  “I always liked him, that’s all,” she’s saying.

  I lean forward in my seat. “It’s not Norman,” I tell her. I ignore the part about her liking him. That’s my fault, really. I never told her how bad things got with him. Because part of me suspected she wouldn’t understand. Or she’d tell me to suck it up and deal with his flaws, because at least he had money, and money kept people safe.

  Never mind that he was making me unsafe, monetary support aside. I felt caged with him, resented and controlled at once.

  But I never explained all of that to Mom, so how could she know?

  “But there is someone,” she replies, her voice dropping to a purr. “I know that look, Cassidy. You get the same doe-eyed expression whenever you’re smitten; you’ve been doing it since preschool.”

  I groan and roll my eyes. But I nod, too. “There’s someone. Or, there was. He turned out to… not be such a good idea.”

  She frowns, suddenly all sympathy. “Unemployed? Bad prospects?”

  I grimace. “No. Not that that should be a reason to break up with someone,” I add.

  “Well, I’m not saying you should break up with someone who just lost a great job. But if it’s someone with no ambition, no drive, would you really be happy dating them anyway? I mean, we were just talking about all your career goals… You need someone who’s as driven as you are.”

  Or someone with tons of money I can mooch, don’t you mean? I resist the retort. “He wasn’t a good fit,” I tell her. “Because he lied to me. He told me he was divorced, and he wasn’t.” At least, not officially.

  “Oh.” Mom sits back in her seat and waves a hand. “Well, relationships can be complicated, sweetie. Sometimes one starts before the previous relationship has quite finished fizzling.”

  “Are you seriously telling me you support cheating right now?” I raise an eyebrow. “That’s pretty bad even for you, Mom.”

  Her eyebrows draw together in a tight line. “What does that mean? Even for me?”

  “I…” Damn. I’d been trying to behave, to be nice to her for once. But the words just slipped out. “I just mean, with your track record.”

  “What track record is that, exactly?” Her voice rises.

  “You know.” I gesture vaguely in her general direction. “You tend to… well… go through guys a lot. And it seems like you normally only like what they can do for you, rather than who the guys themselves are.”

  “I can’t help it if I’m attracted to successful men. Would you rather I pick a bum off the street to date, is that it? Or just say yes to anyone who offers?”

  “That’s not what I mean, Mom. But, come on. You seriously think I should date a guy who’s married?”

  She crosses her arms on the table and leans toward me. “All I’m saying, Cassidy, is that you can be a bit naive about these things. There’s married and then there’s married, you know?”

  I shake my head. I really don’t know.

  Mom just shrugs, though, and tugs her napkin off her lap to daub at the corners of her mouth before she folds it on her plate. “Sweetie, I’ll admit, I came here with an ulterior motive.”

  My stomach knots all over again. Great. Here it comes. Time for a speech about hard times, about how she’s trying but just can’t find the right situation… And then she’ll ask for money. Like always.

  Mom meets my gaze, her own expression deadly serious. “I’m worried about you,” she says.

  Whatever I expected, it wasn’t that. I blink, thrown. “About me?”

  “What I said earlier—I am proud of you. I’m proud of your career, of your hard work. But, well… it’s not like you’ve been at this for very long. You’re seeing some success now, but what about your future? Have you started saving any money for retirement yet? And have you considered looking into purchasing property instead of renting? If you’re going to continue on through life the way you’ve been going, these are things you’ll need to think about.”

  “What do you mean the way I’ve been going?” I protest.

  “You know.” She gestures at me, as if that should make it obvious. “If you plan to live your whole adult life a single woman.”

  My jaw drops. “So, just because I said I didn’t want to date a married guy, you assume I’m going to, what, grow old alone and die a spinster?”

  “Sweetie, at a certain point, you just need to be realistic about where you’re headed.”

  “I’m going to date!” I exclaim. “Once I find the right guy.”

  “Well, if you wait too long, Mr. Right will already be married and the father of several children by then. You need to start looking now, sweetie, while your prospects are still good. I could set you up if you like; a few of my friends have some very cute sons living nearby. Well, within an hour’s drive, but that’s not too far, for a serious relationship.”

  “What is this obsession with getting me a boyfriend?” I protest.

  “I’m not getting any younger,” Mom replies. “And neither are you. Then there’s the matter of children to consider, and, well… I just don’t want you to wind up like me.” She sighs then, wistfully. “I’ve just never been able to make it work long-term. I put so much time and effort into the men I date, and none of them stick around to help me or offer me a sense of security. I’m all alone, with no one to turn to for support now.”

  “You know that’s not true,” I say, even as my instincts kick in yet again.

  She smiles at me. A little too broadly. “Oh, I know I can always count on you in a real emergency. I just don’t want to have to ask you for more money, again. You’ve got enough on your plate without worrying about your poor old mother.”

  Old. As if she’s some wizened crone, instead of a pretty lively 49. “Mom…”

  “I just want better for you. I want you to find a man who will stay by you, through thick and thin. Someone who can take care of you, the way you deserve.” Her voice drops an octave, and she looks away. “Lord knows I never got what I deserved.”

  I frown. “Is there something you need help with?” I can’t help it. I hate seeing her like this. Dejected and down on herself. Even if part of me knows it’s all an act.

  But her gaze jumps to mine almost at once. “Of course not, Cassidy. What did I just say? I can’t ask you to help me again.” She laughs, a little too high pitched. “A mother can’t always rely on her daughter for support. Even her very successful daughter, whose business is taking off so well…”

  And there it is. The real reason she came here today, I’m sure of it. “Spit it out, Mom,” I say, my voice dropping into a sarcastic register.

  Her jaw drops. So does mine, honestly. I’ve never actually called her out before. Part of me feels guilty—what if I’m wrong, what if I’m misreading this situation?

  But another part of me, a bigger part, thinks that my therapist would be proud if she could see me right now.

  “What on earth do you mean?” my mother replies, flustered, her cheeks turning pink.

  “How much do you want this time?” I fire back. “It’s obvious why you asked me here. You need money again. So, how much are you in debt for?”

  “Well. I… you… what.” Her face, if possible, reddens even more. “Of all the ungrateful—”

  “Mom, please. We’ve done this dance enough times for me to recognize the opening lines.” I lift an eyebrow at her.

  “Can’t a mother want to spend quality time with the daughter she hasn’t seen in months? A daughter who, I might add, is terrible at returning my calls. I can’t miss you without having some ulterior motive?”

  “That’s what I thought.” I spread my hands on the table. “But then you start bringing up money, again, and, well, this is too familiar for my liking.”

  “It’s not my fault you’re making more than me right now, Cassidy.” My mother’s lips purse. �
�If I were in your shoes, with all that business investment money and my face all over the television, I would help you out.”

  I snort into my wine glass. “Would you, though? Because in the past, it’s always been, ‘you need to learn how to support yourself, Cassidy,’ and ‘I spent all my money raising you when you were a child, Cassidy.’”

  “I did. You have no idea how expensive it is to raise a child, especially as a single mother.” Mom scowls.

  I just laugh. “Good thing you had all those boyfriends to help us along the way, then.” I raise my hand, and gesture for the waiter. “Tell you what, Mom.” I lean forward, smiling, and take a slow, pointed glance around the nice restaurant. “I’ll pick up the check for this. Least I can do, since you’re right, we haven’t spent any quality time together in so long. But after this? I’m done helping you out monetarily. It’s time for you to learn how to support yourself,” I tell her, mimicking a phrase she’s used since I was fresh out of college, and one that’s always set my nerves on edge.

  To judge by her souring expression, Mom doesn’t like hearing her own words any more than I ever did.

  “I love you,” I add. “But I’m done being used. By you or by anyone else in my life.”

  The waiter drops the check, and I slip enough cash to cover the bill, along with a healthy tip, inside. Then I rise and gather up my coat, smiling. My mother continues to glare at me, muttering words under her breath. But for once, her words just roll right off my back. Because I know, without a doubt, I’m doing the right thing.

  I’m setting boundaries. Creating a new pattern for myself. Just like I promised myself in therapy.

  For once, I leave a meal with my mother actually smiling.

  25

  Cassidy

  The smile lasts until I make it home from our lunch. It falters, however, the second I pull into the parking lot outside my apartment complex, and I register the shape leaning against my front door frame. Even with his back turned, even though I only glimpse him briefly as I’m stepping out of my car, I know at once who it is. I’d recognize him anywhere. Not just his face, but his height, his lanky body, his way of standing and his posture and even his gait when he walks, shoulders thrown back and chin high with confidence.