Cassidy Lane Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2014 Maria Murnane

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781477849941

  ISBN-10: 1477849947

  To Tami and Peggy (aka The Besties), for always laughing with me and not at me

  Contents

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Thanks!

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  “WHERE ARE YOU? I’m dying here.”

  Cassidy sat down on the bed, cell phone pressed to one ear, and pulled her knees up against her chest. “Do I have to go? I’m sort of having second thoughts.”

  “Stop it. If you don’t get down here, and soon, I’m going to murder you. I’m talking cold-blooded murder. Probably a stabbing.”

  Cassidy couldn’t help but smile. “Were you this demanding in high school? I don’t remember this side of you from when you were attaching shoulder pads to your bra straps. Do you still have those?”

  Patti let out a little gasp. “We must never speak of those again, do you hear me? Now stop stalling. You promised I wouldn’t have to go to this reunion without you.”

  “I’m still in my bathrobe.”

  “So, get dressed.”

  “My hair’s still wet.”

  “So dry it.”

  “I have a weird little scrape on my nose.”

  “So cover it up.”

  “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “You’re lying. I was with you when you bought your dress at Bloomingdale’s a couple of months ago, remember? You were in town for the Fourth of July weekend. We had lunch at Pluto’s afterward, and you took approximately nine hours deciding between a grilled chicken sandwich and a salad with grilled chicken. I almost shot you.”

  Cassidy balled her free hand into a fist. “Damn your encyclopedic memory. How many people are there?”

  “There are about fifteen of us so far, plus some slippery guy named Trent who no one remembers. I think he might be in the witness protection program.”

  “Only fifteen? Why did you get there so early?”

  “I didn’t get here early. I got here on time.”

  “I will never understand your obsession with punctuality.”

  “I will never understand your obsession with marshmallows. Now stop stalling and get down here.”

  Cassidy sighed, and the truth came out with her breath. “What if everyone is married with kids, Patti? I don’t want to be the only single person there.”

  “Stop it. I bet lots of people from our class are single.”

  “You’re not.”

  “So? I’m just one person. Besides, anyone can find a husband and pop out a few kids. You’ve been off writing books, which, believe me, is way more exciting than wiping butts. I bet someone here will ask you for an autograph before the night is over.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Want to bet? Connie Thatcher already asked me if you were coming.”

  Cassidy winced. “Oh no, not filterless Connie Thatcher.”

  “Yes, the one and only, and for better or for worse, she hasn’t changed a lick. She even has the same unfortunate hairstyle. I’ll bet she’ll ask for your John Hancock.”

  “She always said the most mortifying things. Remember that time in driver’s ed, when she asked me in front of the entire class if I could lend her one of the tampons she’d spotted poking out of my backpack?”

  “Oh my God, I was so embarrassed for you when she did that.”

  “You were embarrassed for me? Try being me in that situation.”

  “Well, she’s here in all her awkward inappropriateness, so be prepared. Jimmy Hanson’s here too, although I imagine he goes by Jim now that we’re pushing forty. Didn’t you ask him to a Sadie Hawkins dance and he said no?”

  Cassidy leaned her head against the headboard. “You’re hardly making a strong case for my attendance tonight. Is anyone there not related to one of my humiliating high-school incidents?”

  “Get down here and find out for yourself. You flew all the way across the country to come to this, and I’m not letting you bail on me now.”

  Cassidy ran her fingers through her damp hair and glanced out the bedroom door and down the hall, where she saw the soft glow of the flat-screen TV reflected in the glass French doors leading to the den. “It’s sort of fun being at my parents’ house. I feel like I’m seventeen again, even though I’m in the guest room now. Maybe I’ll just skip the reunion and hang out here with Mom and Dad. All we’re missing is my brother and actual videos on MTV, and it would be like the last twenty years never happened.”

  “Have I been stuttering? Get your butt down here or your life will end tonight.”

  Cassidy swung her legs onto the hardwood floor. “OK, OK, I’m coming. And for the record, I don’t think we would have been friends in high school if you were this mean then.”

  “I’m not mean, I’m assertive. You’re the writer. You really should know your adjectives.”

  “Believe me, I’m thinking of some adjectives right now. You’d better have a glass of wine waiting for me when I get there.”

  “You know I will. Unless you want a Bartles and Jaymes wine cooler; Exotic Berry flavor, perhaps? That was your signature drink in high school, at least the handful of times I remember you actually drinking back then.”

  “Only if you have on your signature pair of purple acid-wash GUESS overalls when you hand it to me. See you soon.”

  Cassidy hung up the phone and stood up, then cinched her robe around her waist and walked into the guest bathroom. She studied her reflection in the mirror as she ran a comb through her hair. Dark and a bit wavy, it never seemed to grow more than an inch or two past her shoulders. She leaned in close to examine her fair skin and gently touched the scrape on her nose with her index finger, then traced the faint lines around the corners of her green eyes. The lines crinkled into tiny ridges when she smiled now, and sometimes even when she didn’t.

  A rush of insecurity hit her with a force that startled her.

  And surprised her.

  Do I really have crow’s-feet?

  Does that mean I’m old? />
  Do I look old?

  Do I look as insecure as I feel?

  Why am I so insecure?

  Have I done enough with my life?

  Will the popular girls still make me feel like they know something I don’t?

  More importantly, why do I still care?

  She stared at the mirror for a few moments, then closed her eyes and did her best to push the negative thoughts from her mind. She dried her hair and put on some makeup, then returned to the bedroom and opened the closet. Inside hung the burgundy dress she’d bought to wear tonight. With a fitted waist and cap sleeves, it was simple and classy and grown-up—she’d never been able to stand busy patterns of any kind on her clothes. She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head in thought. Patti had assured her the style and color looked flattering on her five-six frame, but now Cassidy wasn’t so sure.

  She turned to one side and studied her profile.

  Do I look hippy?

  Is my belly poofing out?

  She’d stayed pretty slender and fit all these years, but even so, this was one of those times she wished she had the superhuman figure of a supermodel.

  She faced the mirror straight on and nibbled on her thumbnail.

  Is it cute enough?

  Does it make me look stiff?

  Will anyone care?

  Almost without realizing what she was doing, she suddenly held out a hand as if greeting an old classmate, then forced a smile and spoke in a loud voice she barely recognized. “It’s great to see you! Can you believe it’s been twenty years?”

  Cassidy blinked. Where had that impromptu rehearsal come from? She had to laugh. She was clearly overthinking this, and she hadn’t even left the house yet.

  “Angel, are you OK?” A female voice called from the den.

  Cassidy hollered back. “I’m fine, Mom. Just talking myself into going to this thing.”

  “It’ll be easier once you have some wine in you. Trust me.”

  Cassidy chuckled. “Thanks, Mom. You’re always a fountain of practical advice.”

  She gazed back at her reflection. The nervous figure in the mirror looked nothing like the happy, confident, independent woman Cassidy was used to greeting every morning.

  She frowned at herself.

  Just yesterday you were fine. Yesterday!

  Cassidy Lane had five published novels under her belt, one of which had recently become a bestseller. After years of struggle, she finally had a steadily growing fan base that allowed her to write full-time. She lived in Manhattan, traveled—within reason—where and when she felt like it, got paid to basically make up stories, and rarely had to wake up early if she didn’t want to. It had been a lot of work to get here, but she was now quietly living a life most people could only dream about.

  The woman facing her now, however, still felt like the smart girl no one had asked to the prom.

  “Cassidy Lane, how nice to see you! We missed you at the last reunion.” A short, plump woman seated at the registration table checked Cassidy’s name off the list and held up a crisp white name tag.

  Cassidy smiled and pushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. “I can’t remember where I was for that one, but Patti Bramble told me it was fun.”

  The woman winked at her. “You were probably off on some book tour.”

  Cassidy smiled again, this time a bit awkwardly, as she pinned on the name tag and hoped it wasn’t too obvious that she had absolutely no idea who this woman was. The registration table was outside the restaurant, and she peeked through the windows to see if she recognized anyone. Thank God Patti was already here.

  The woman tapped the shoulder of the man sitting next to her. “Honey, Cassidy’s that author I told you about, remember?”

  He nodded. “Ah, yes, the famous New York writer. Crystal said you were coming tonight. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. “I’m Stanley Bryant.”

  Crystal! That was her name. Cassidy remembered her now, a cheerleader. She’d been Crystal Hightower back in high school. Wow, she looks really different. Cassidy shook Stanley’s hand and smiled politely. “It’s nice to meet you too. And while I’m flattered by the description, I’m hardly famous. Believe me.”

  Crystal waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense, you’re famous to me. I’ve read all your novels. I just love a good romance.” She turned to Stanley. “Isn’t that true, babe? Don’t I just love her books?”

  He held up his hands. “It’s true. She’s a big fan. You must be living quite the life out there in the Big Apple.”

  Cassidy felt her cheeks flush. If you only knew. Everyone assumed the life of a published author was all glitz and glamour, especially when they found out she lived in New York City. Maybe other writers lived opulently, but she certainly didn’t, and even if that were her style, she would never have been able to afford such a life in Manhattan. The truth was that while she did attend some high-profile events and got dressed up for a photo shoot now and then, those occasions were few and far between. She spent most of her days in her apartment, quietly working alone at her desk, usually dressed in jeans, sometimes even in sweatpants or pajamas.

  Actually, who was she kidding? Mostly in sweatpants or pajamas.

  Tonight was the most dressed up she’d been in months.

  She adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder and decided to change the subject back to the reason she was there. “I know everyone must say this, but it’s hard to believe it’s been twenty years since we graduated. It almost feels like just yesterday, don’t you think?” She hoped her mom was right in predicting that conversation with her former classmates would flow more easily once she got some wine in her to soothe her nerves. Otherwise it was clearly going to be a long night.

  Crystal’s eyes got big. “I know! I was just talking to Stanley about that. Call me biased, but I think we all look exactly the same, just as fabulous as we did in high school.”

  Cassidy pictured how much thinner Crystal had been back then. A lot thinner. Like fifty pounds thinner. She opted for another change of subject, fearing the look on her face would give away what was really going through her head. “I’m guessing I’m the last one to arrive. Did a lot of people come? Looks pretty crowded.” She pointed through the windows.

  “Oh yes, it’s a full house in there. Go on inside and mingle,” Crystal said.

  “You two aren’t spending the evening out here, are you? It’s pretty chilly tonight.” One thing that hadn’t changed from their high-school days in Northern California was the cool—sometimes downright cold—evenings, even in the height of summer.

  “Oh gosh, no. We’re just waiting for a couple more stragglers to show up. We’ll be closing up shop and joining y’all soon, I’m sure. Go on in and have fun.” Crystal shooed her away.

  “OK, thanks, Crystal. It was nice meeting you, Stanley.” Cassidy hesitated for a moment, then took a step toward the entrance before pausing again.

  Don’t be so nervous.

  It will be fine.

  She took a deep breath and pushed open the door. As she walked inside, she immediately felt as if every eye in the room was staring at her, though in reality the place was so loud and packed it was unlikely anyone had even noticed her arrival. She scanned the crowd for Patti and quickly spotted her at a bar to the right. Thank God Patti was tall. Suddenly nervous in the company of so many strangers she used to see every day, Cassidy wanted to break into a trot but refrained. Instead she avoided making eye contact with anyone and walked quickly toward her friend.

  She was halfway across the room when a woman to her right backed up unexpectedly. She knocked an elbow into Cassidy’s stomach as she did so, spilling some of her drink onto Cassidy’s dress.

  The woman turned and looked at Cassidy. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, her words a bit slurred.

  Cassidy r
ecognized her as Eliza Wood, one of the most popular girls in school back in the day, if not the most popular. Though they’d once had a class together, they had never actually spoken to each other. For four years straight, half the boys in school had chased the beautiful Eliza Wood. With her expensive clothes and perfectly applied makeup, each long eyelash expertly curled, her lustrous auburn locks cascading down her back, and a stream of would-be suitors constantly at her side, she was the epitome of the Popular Girl. Every day she appeared on campus looking as if she’d jumped right out of the pages of Seventeen magazine, and Cassidy had quietly envied her from afar, wishing she could be like that, wishing that just one boy would pay attention to her like that…just one. Eliza hadn’t been much of a student or even particularly nice, but none of the guys seemed to mind. And tonight, her slinky green dress clinging to every curve, a full twenty years later, she looked as stunning as ever, despite clearly being a bit drunk. Or maybe a lot drunk.

  Cassidy dug around inside her purse for something to use to blot her dress and found a small pack of tissues. “It’s OK, I’m fine.” Fortunately, her dress was dark, and the liquid was clear. It could have been much worse.

  Eliza pointed at her. “Did we have English together?”

  Cassidy nodded, secretly thrilled at the recognition. “Junior year.”

  Eliza squinted. “You were sort of dorky, right?”

  Before Cassidy could respond, Eliza spotted someone else and drifted away with nary a wave, leaving Cassidy standing there alone, holding a wet tissue against her chest. Her cheeks and neck suddenly felt warm. Had anyone heard that? She hoped not. She sighed and, keeping her eyes glued to the floor, made her way across the crowded room toward Patti.

  “Finally,” Patti said as Cassidy approached. “I was about to call the police.”

  Cassidy nodded. “I know, I’m sorry. I was moving in quicksand getting ready tonight. Fear and inertia teamed up to get the better of me.”

  Patti picked up a full glass of red wine and handed it to her. “Don’t sweat it. Kevin and I have been having fun catching up. Remember Kevin Tyson?” She gave Cassidy a subtle can-you-believe-it look as she gestured toward the tall man standing next to her.