Cassidy Lane (22 page)

Cassidy tried to
relax as her mind began to drift away from her book, from Annabelle’s, from New York itself.

All the way
back to California.

“Damn, look at
you
.” Danielle took off her coat and sat at the bar next to Cassidy. “Do you have a hot date after this?”

Cassidy rolled her
eyes. “Just so you know, that’s the
third
time I’ve been asked that question since leaving my apartment. I just thought it would be fun to take my new dress out for a spin, especially on the heels of your sweatpants comment this afternoon. Do you like it?”

“I do, very
much. And for the record, you
rock
your sweatpants.”

Cassidy laughed. “Thanks.
You look nice too, by the way. Did you get a haircut?”

Danielle framed her
face with her hands. “I did, and thanks for noticing. So, speaking of hot dates, how did it go with Brandon?”

Cassidy pointed to
her. “Let’s talk about
you
first. I want to know about this trouble you alluded to. What’s up?”

Danielle shook her
head. “We’ll talk about my problem later. I want to hear all about high-school guy.”

Cassidy lightly touched
the scrape on her nose. “It wasn’t exactly…what I expected.”

Danielle made a
nervous face. “Oh, no. Not good?”

“It was good
…just complicated.”

“Complicated? What do
you mean?”

Cassidy took a
deep breath, then relayed the story of her tumultuous week in California.

Danielle set down
her wineglass. “Damn, Cassidy. That’s intense.”

Cassidy frowned. “I
know. As I said, not exactly what I expected.”

“Is his mom
going to be OK?”

“They think so,
but it’s going to be a long, slow road to recovery. Lots of physical therapy.”

“So all that
happened between you two was one kiss?”

“Basically, yes. He
kissed me a couple of other times, but only one
real
kiss, if that makes sense.”

“Was it at
least a good kiss?”

Cassidy felt her
insides stir at the memory. “It was unbelievable.”

“So it made
your blood rush to all the right places?”

“Danielle!”

Danielle picked up
her glass and shrugged. “Don’t act all virginal, I’m just trying to get a sense of your definition for
unbelievable
. How did you two leave it?”

“What do you
mean?”

“I mean, when
are you going to see him again?”

“When I go
home for the holidays, I suppose.”

“You didn’t make
any specific plans?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm
what
? You
think that’s bad?” Cassidy bit her lip.

“I just like
it when a guy makes a point of putting a
next time
on the calendar. It shows that he’s into it.”

Cassidy gazed glumly
at her wineglass. “He’s got a lot to deal with right now. And no matter what he may feel for me, I don’t think making plans that far out is a big priority.”

“I know; I’m
not judging, believe me. His plate is clearly more than full. I just want to make sure you’re being treated the way you deserve. Your feelings count too, you know?”

Cassidy smiled weakly.
“Thanks for always watching out for me. Now enough about me. What trouble are
you
in?”

Just then Danielle’s
phone rang. She glanced at the display and groaned. “I’m sorry. It’s one of my territory managers, so I can’t ignore it. Can you give me a minute?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Danielle grabbed her
coat and went outside to take the call. While she was gone, Cassidy nursed her drink and glanced around the room, enjoying the chance to people watch without feeling self-conscious for being there by herself. She decided to play the character game, this time zeroing in on a distinguished older man sitting alone at the far side of the bar.

What’s his name?
Harry…Harry Winfield.

Where’s he from?
Westchester. No, Rochester.

What does he
do? He’s a judge. Retired judge.

What makes him
angry? When preppy young lawyers disrespected him in court. Arrogant punks.

Who or what
makes him laugh? In his eyes no one will ever be as funny as Johnny Carson. And he loves a good riddle.

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 e
veryone
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 unfolding 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.”