Wooing Cadie McCaffrey

by Bethany Turner

“I think he would’ve killed us.”

  Will chuckled. “No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure you can do no wrong in his eyes.”

  “He just knows he can trust me, and that suits him just fine—because that means he doesn’t have to spend too much time thinking about the numbers. But you?” She whistled through her teeth. “You’re the favorite.”

  Will’s humility rose to the surface, along with his disbelief that his career had taken such a rapid acceleration toward success. He opened his mouth to respond in the same way he’d responded to Sports Illustrated: I’m just a guy doing what he loves who happened to be in the right subway car at the right time. But then he remembered who he was talking to. The one person who actually knew him.

  “It’s crazy, isn’t it?” He laughed and turned to face her, his elbow on the railing. “I feel, for about twelve hours every day, like I’m just going to somehow screw it all up.”

  She smiled at him and mirrored his position. “And what about the other twelve hours?”

  “Well, I’m asleep for eight of them . . .”

  “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  How well she knew him. “Okay,” he relented. “I’m asleep for about five of them. For probably six of them I’m too busy to think about it. And then for one glorious hour each day, I think I’ve got this. I think I’m the right guy for the job.”

  She reached out and put her hand on his forearm. “Listen to that one, Will. That’s the hour that’s not lying to you.”

  He wondered if there was any way to use that moment to propel them past all the pain between them. He wanted to take her in his arms and make sure she understood how in love with her he was—how in love with her he would always be. He knew that if she understood that, they’d be able to work through the rest. The only thing stopping him from trying to propel them into the future was the overwhelming desire to not let the moment end. He hadn’t realized until right then that if he could only be her friend, he’d take it. He’d never be satisfied, of course, but he’d take it.

  She pulled her hand away gently. “Want to go inside? It doesn’t look too crowded, and I’m pretty sure my face is about to freeze off.”

  A few hours earlier he’d have gone anywhere she asked, without question. A few hours earlier, he never would have expected to be invited.

  “Thanks, but you go ahead,” he replied. He watched the Statue of Liberty getting larger by the minute. “I can’t ever quite pull myself away. At least not until my face freezes off.”

  She nodded and smiled, but she didn’t walk away. She simply turned back toward the harbor and took in the view alongside him.

  Please don’t let me ruin this, Lord, Will silently prayed before clearing his throat. “Cadie, I’m sorry I got so focused on the job and lost sight of what was happening between us.”

  “Will—”

  “No, please.” He tilted his head to look at her and found she was doing the same toward him. “Please just let me say this.”

  She sighed and turned her attention back to the water, nodding as she did.

  He took a deep breath. “I think I got it in my head that I wasn’t good enough for you.” Her head snapped around to look at him again, but she didn’t say a word. “Actually, I know that’s what happened. And I think I thought that if I could make some progress in my career, get ahead, get a better title, make more money—”

  “I never cared about that stuff,” Cadie interjected.

  He nodded. “I know. I know that now, I guess. I think I got it in my head that only a certain type of guy could ever be worthy of you. The type of guy your parents would approve of. The type of guy you deserve. Because, that’s the thing, Cadie. I think for a long time I thought I was trying to become the guy everyone else thought was good enough for you, but I was actually just trying to become the guy I thought was good enough for you. But that guy doesn’t exist, as far as I’m concerned.” He exhaled and watched his breath as it dissipated into the night. “I’d give anything if I could go back and focus on becoming the guy you needed me to be.”

  She chuckled—not the response he was expecting—and he turned to see what she found so funny.

  “I think a tear literally just became a piece of ice on my face. I know that’s not supposed to happen, because it’s saltwater and all, but I know it’s happening.” Her laughter increased. “Maybe I’ve just become so coldhearted that I cry out ice.”

  “Maybe your tears are so pure that they’re actually freshwater,” he contributed.

  “Yes! I like that explanation. Let’s go with that.”

  The laughter died away but the smiles remained on their faces as they faced each other, neither saying a word. Cadie sniffed and swiped away her icy tears as her smile became more subdued and a little sadder. She reached out to touch his arm again, as she had earlier, but Will caught her hand and pulled it against his chest, and then he brought his other hand up to join the cluster. Grasping her hand with both of his, he lifted it to his lips and planted a tender kiss on her knuckles.

  Neither of them reacted to the feedback noise that began over the loudspeaker a moment later, though it was startlingly loud against the backdrop of the waves rushing beneath them, and the silence of Lady Liberty towering beside them.

  “The Staten Island Ferry and the New York City Department of Transportation wish to extend a very special welcome to Murray and Sylvia Fliegelman of Brooklyn, New York, who met as children on the Staten Island Ferry, eighty-seven years ago, and tonight are celebrating their seventy-fifth wedding anniversary—along with their four children, thirteen grandchildren, and forty-two great-grandchildren.”

  “And seven great-great-grandchildren!” a voice called from inside.

  Will and Cadie turned toward the voice and saw, through the glass, the entire Fliegelman family, hugging, laughing, and celebrating—Murray and Sylvia at the center of it all.

  Cadie squeezed Will’s hand and whispered, “Would you take a look at that.”

  “Murray and Sylvia,” the announcer concluded, “this is for you.”

  The opening piano notes of Tony Bennett’s “The Way You Look Tonight” squeaked their way out over the speakers, and as the frequency issues resolved themselves, Murray stood from his seat, put his hand out for his bride, and took her in his arms for a dance.

  “Wow,” Will exhaled.

  He looked down at Cadie, her face still turned toward the Fliegelmans, her hand still in his, and he knew. Any little bit of lingering doubt was gone. Maybe they hadn’t figured it out as young as Murray and Sylvia, so maybe they’d never celebrate seventy-five years and seven great-great-grandchildren, but they were just as real. Just as forever.

  “Dance with me, Cadie,” he said, not waiting for an answer before placing one hand on the small of her back and gently pulling her closer.

  She pulled her attention away from the romance playing out twenty-five feet away and silently consented to being in Will’s arms. Her eyes met his as she leaned into him and wrapped her free arm around his shoulders. Through a few bars of the music, they were strangers, holding each other for the first time with all of the awkwardness of two eighth graders at a school dance. Then Cadie chuckled softly and a smile appeared on her face.

  “What is it?” Will asked.

  “I was just trying to remember the last time we danced together.”

  “Ellis’s wedding.”

  She nodded and her smile grew wider. “Yes. Do you remember the time before that?”

  He thought for a moment and then burst into laughter. “I’m pretty sure that was also an Ellis wedding.”

  “Maybe that’s why we fell apart, Will. Ellis stopped getting married, and we forgot to dance.”

  They laughed together, and he spun her dramatically—and when he pulled her back, their bodies were close enough that even the cold winter air couldn’t come between them, and the awkwardness was gone. She rested her head on his chest and pulled her hand from his, so she could throw her other
arm around his shoulders, and he circled both of his arms around her waist, the familiar scent of lemon and sage overpowering his senses as her hair fluttered in the wind.

  All thoughts of Murray and Sylvia were gone. The song was for them. The entire night was just for them.

  He felt her pull away in his arms—just slightly—and he wanted to hold her tighter. No. Not yet. This can’t be over already. But he allowed her the space he instinctively knew she was desiring, and he looked down at her, ready to beg her not to go. But the intensity in her eyes was so different from anything he’d expected, anything he’d feared. She didn’t want less of him. She wanted more, and he was more than happy to oblige.

  Will brushed his thumb across her chin, and it landed on her jaw as the rest of his hand wrapped around the back of her neck. One corner of his mouth rose in a smile as her lips separated and her breathing grew heavy and a little ragged.

  As he prepared to kiss her, silently vowing to never go that long without kissing her again, a tiny snowflake fell on her nose. And then another. And another. Will’s half-smile took over his entire face in response to the girlish giggle making its way out of her parted lips. He tore his eyes away from hers and looked up at the diminutive white specks against the dark gray sky, eerily lit up by the approaching lights of lower Manhattan.

  He looked back down at Cadie, and everything had changed. The anticipation in her eyes had been replaced by accusation, and the soft expectation of her lips was a distant memory. Her mouth formed a tightly clenched line, broken only slightly by the tremble of her chin.

  “Cadie, what’s wrong?”

  At first there were no words, only a dramatic release of air as she abruptly pulled out of his arms.

  “What’s wrong?” he repeated. “Are you okay?” He reached out for her, but she recoiled at the nearness of him.

  “How stupid do you think I am?” She shook her head. “How stupid am I?”

  “What are you talking about? What in the world happened?”

  She rubbed her eyes and continued shaking her head as a groan escaped. “I know them all!” she shouted. “I can’t believe I fell for this.”

  He threw his hands up in the air. “Fell for what?”

  “What comes next? You’re a bird, I’m a bird? This is real life, Will. All our problems don’t go away because you buy me a snow globe of Florence or a new diary so I can make a fresh start!” She was shaking from head to toe, but her voice was strong. “You didn’t have me at hello, and you don’t complete me. I am perfectly complete without you. How dare you interfere in my life and act as if I’m not? You had no right to do that. So tell me. Tell me what comes next.”

  The ferry docked at Whitehall and they each instinctively secured their footing. Will knew his posture was the only thing about him that was stabilized. He reached out one more time, hoping to grab her arm and pull her aside from departing passengers, but as the snow fell more rapidly and the wind grew fiercer, he lost her in a swarm of Fliegelmans.

  16

  From Friday Night to 3:15

  He’s going to try to talk you out of it, you know,” Darby said with a sigh, early the following Monday morning.

  “I know.”

  I nodded but remained otherwise unaffected by the thought. I was completely aware that Kevin would be shocked to receive my resignation, and yes, he would no doubt try to talk me out of leaving ASN. But I wouldn’t be moved. Things had gotten out of hand, and I’d had enough.

  “Can you hand me that vase over on the bookshelf?” I asked her as I continued cramming my things into a banker’s box.

  She handed me the vase. “I think you’re making a mistake. I think you need to take some time to think about it.”

  “I took all weekend to think about it! How can I possibly stay here? This crossed a line, and I think you agree with me on that, whether you care to admit it or not.”

  “If what you think happened actually happened, of course it crossed a line. But I don’t know. It doesn’t really make sense to me.”

  I placed the newspaper-wrapped vase in the box and threw my hands in the air. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

  She smiled and replied with our oft-used phrase as she handed me a figurine that needed to be wrapped and packed. “Yours. Always yours.”

  “It was all such a setup, and I felt like an idiot for not recognizing it sooner. I mean, the Staten Island Ferry? Of course. We’re Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. And then dancing on a boat to The Way You Look Tonight? Now we’re Julia Roberts and Dylan McDermott—”

  “Dermot Mulroney.”

  “Whatever. It’s My Best Friend’s Wedding. I haven’t figured out the sweet little Jewish couple yet, but I’m sure it’s something. I’m just wondering how much they had to pay all those people. And the snow? I mean, come on!”

  “Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous. Will and Kevin planned the snow, did they?”

  “For the golden boy? I’m sure the network would see what they could do.”

  She chuckled. “Okay, let’s say for a moment that all of that is true—”

  “It is.”

  “And that Will planned all of that in a huge, last-ditch attempt to win you back.”

  “He did,” I stated and then yielded—just a bit. “Maybe not the snow.”

  “Well then, Cadie McCaffrey, I think that’s just about the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

  I scoffed. “If your ex and your boss getting together to sabotage your career is what you find romantic—”

  “If giving you a great opportunity to excel on a major project that everyone else in this office would kill to be a part of is what you call sabotage . . .”

  “That’s not the point!” I didn’t know how to explain my feelings further. I only knew that it was a huge violation of trust, and I wasn’t sure how to recover from that.

  She exhaled and sat on the edge of the desk. “Look, I hear you. I do. But it was romantic.”

  I joined her on the desk as tears began pooling in my eyes. I was so angry. So hurt. And so upset with myself that I couldn’t stop thinking about how good it felt to be held by him again. Will and his ferry, and the intensity in his eyes, his explanation of where his mind had been for a year—of where he had been for a year—and his blasted Fliegelmans.

  You weak, sappy pushover.

  I nodded. “In the moment? You bet it was. But,” I repeated, “it crossed a line.”

  “So tell him that. Tell Kevin that. Make it clear you won’t stand for it. But the fact of the matter is Kevin would have wanted you on the project anyway. You know that.”

  “I can’t be sure of what I know anymore, Darby, and that’s the point.”

  I hopped down from the desk and grabbed more newspaper from the pile to continue wrapping up ten years of history at a job I loved.

  “I quit, Kevin.” As I said the words, I felt the weight of the world lifting off my shoulders. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m really sorry. Do what you want, of course, but I strongly recommend Darby as my replacement. She’s competent, loyal, and I’ve already taught her everything I know. If you want to require I give notice, I will, but I have a ton of leave stored up, and I think we both know that the sooner I’m out of here, the sooner everyone can—”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked as he shut his office door.

  “This is what I need to do. I think you know that just as well as I do.”

  “No. No, I don’t,” he replied, his voice forceful but his face bewildered. He grabbed the resignation letter from my hands and dropped it to the floor beside us before reaching out, taking my hand, and pulling me with him to the leather couch in the center of his enormous office. As we sat he said, “Talk to me, Cadie. It hasn’t really come to this, has it? I’m sure we can work something out so that you don’t actually have to interact with him.”

  “This isn’t about Will,” I insisted, hanging on to my adamant assertio
ns that I wouldn’t give up a job I loved because of a boy.

  Of course it was about Will, but it was also about Kevin. And integrity. And professionalism. And I was prepared to tell him all of that, but he started talking again before I had the chance.

  “Maybe you were onto something by sending in Tennyson and Alvarez. Actually . . .” He jumped from his seat and began pacing near the south-facing window that covered an entire wall. Suddenly he turned back to face me. “You’re due for a promotion. You’re overdue, actually. Maybe it’s time to move you up to the 92nd floor.”

  It’s funny how you can be completely confident about a decision one second and the next wonder what you could have possibly been thinking.

  “Kevin, I . . . wow . . . I appreciate that. Really.” Really.

  He hunkered down next to me on the couch again. “It really is overdue, and if it means we don’t lose you, well . . . now’s the time.”

  The 92nd floor. The corporate office. More money, a better title, more authority, and seven floors between Will and me. It was very tempting.

  But then my mind was flooded with the memory of one of the best nights of my career—not to mention one of the most romantic moments of my life—and I felt like a fool once again.

  I shook my head and forced a smile. “I can’t do it, and it’s really not because my ex-boyfriend works here. It’s just time for me to move on. I’m very grateful for all of the opportunities and for all the support you’ve given me through the years.”

  “You’re really doing this? This is for real?” I nodded that it was, and he placed his hand on mine. “And there’s nothing I can say to change your mind?”

  I held on to his hand and was filled with affection for him. Oh, I was still furious that he had gone along with Will’s harebrained ferry scheme, of course, but as my emotions tempered, I was increasingly aware that it had been just that. Will’s harebrained ferry scheme. Kevin was just an ill-advised accomplice.

  Unfortunately, that awareness didn’t take away any of the reasons I had to leave.

  I sniffed. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough, for everything. You’ve created something special here, with The Daily Dribble and all you’re doing for the network. I’m proud that I got to be a part of it. But it’s time.”