The Reunion

by Suzanne Rossi

  “I discovered the benefits of lifting weights and indulged in Lasik surgery. And for the record, you weren’t that overweight. Are you with someone?”

  “No, I’m alone.”

  “Me, too. Can I buy you a drink?”

  “You certainly can. I’ll have a vodka martini.”

  His right eyebrow rose as did the corner of his mouth. A dimple danced briefly, and his eyes crinkled with humor when he smiled.

  “Shaken, not stirred, I assume.”

  “But of course.”

  He grinned again. “Why don’t you find us a table while I get the drinks?”

  Meghan couldn’t take her eyes off Zach winding his way through the increasing crowd. Damn, he looked good. His light brown hair and blue eyes were just as she remembered. And while she’d lost weight, he appeared to have put on at least an extra fifty pounds—all of it muscle.

  She shook her head and glanced around the room. Most of the tables had occupants now, but Meghan finally spotted an empty one and threaded her way past knots of chatting people. She slipped her purse from her shoulder, set it on the snow white tablecloth, and pulled out a chair.

  “Allow me.”

  She turned to find Dave Coryell smiling at her. Returning the smile, she sat. Dave read her nametag.

  “Donahue…Donahue. I don’t seem to remember the name.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you would. My locker was five or six down from yours.”

  He still looked puzzled. “I remember Patty Courtney and Janice Donovan. There was also some fat girl…” He stared hard, and then groaned. “Good God, don’t tell me…”

  “Yes, I was the fat girl. Needless to say, I didn’t run with your crowd.”

  He pulled out a chair and sat. “Well, I wouldn’t mind getting reacquainted right now.” He took a long swallow of his drink and looked into her eyes, a smile on his face.

  Meghan couldn’t believe it. Dave Coryell, football hero, was hitting on her. Twenty years ago, she’d have been flattered into a stammering imbecile. No, twenty years ago it would never have happened. Now, she wanted to laugh.

  Dave hadn’t changed much from high school, still possessing a trim body and a head full of black hair untouched by gray. A closer look showed lines around the brown eyes and a slightly dissipated expression.

  “So, are you here alone, Meghan?”

  “Actually…”

  “Nope, she’s with me,” Zach said from behind Dave’s chair.

  Dave rose and smiled. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

  “You didn’t.” Zach set the martini in front of Meghan, placed his drink in front of the seat Dave had just vacated, and extended his hand. “Nice to see you again, Dave.”

  Dave shook it while reading Zach’s nametag. “Zach, you’re looking good.”

  From the look in his eyes, Meghan suspected he was trying to place Zach in the proper niche. The fake smile told her he certainly didn’t recognize him.

  “Same for you. I hear you’re in the commodities business in Chicago.”

  “Head of my own brokerage firm. How about you?”

  “Head of my own software company in Phoenix. Maybe you’ve heard of it—Dunbar Electronics and Data Systems.”

  Dave’s eyes bugged out. “Holy shit! That’s you? You’ve had a good couple of years.”

  “Who’s had a good couple of years?” Suzanne Wayland asked walking up and linking her arm through Dave’s.

  “This is Zach Dunbar and Meghan Donahue.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t remember. Did you graduate with us?”

  The dismissive tone irritated Meghan, but then that had always been Suzanne’s way. No interest in anybody unless they could benefit her.

  “Yes, I was the fat girl. Zach was the computer genius,” she answered in a crisp voice.

  Zach stared at her and raised an eyebrow. “What Meghan is too polite to say is I was the skinny nerd.”

  The comments apparently didn’t cause Suzanne any concern. She turned to Dave. “I could use another cosmo.”

  “Sure. Mind if we join you?” Not waiting for a reply, he placed his drink next to Zach’s. “I’d like to hear more about your company.” He winked.

  Meghan hated people who winked like they knew a secret.

  “Be my guest.”

  Zach’s dry tone suggested he would have liked to avoid his former classmate.

  Suzanne plunked her fanny down next to Dave’s seat, clearly annoyed at spending the evening with people she didn’t remember.

  Meghan wasn’t any happier, but tried to be civil. “What do you do, Suzanne?”

  “Spend my late husband’s money.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were a widow. Must be tough—being so young, I mean,” Meghan stammered. She hated being put at an awkward position.

  “It’s not so bad. Charlie Crocker was twenty-five years older than me, drank like a fish, ate like a pig, smoked two packs a day, and never exercised a day in his life. He dropped dead from a heart attack five years ago.”

  As at the memorial display while talking to Glory, Meghan didn’t know how to respond. Suzanne didn’t sound particularly sorry her husband was dead. As long as his estate pumps money into her wallet, I’m sure she’s content. The sorry will come when the money runs out. Guilt at the unkind thought tweaked her conscience.

  “So, where do you spend his money?” Zach inquired.

  Suzanne looked at Zach and smiled. “Wherever I can. Charlie’s one blazing talent was making money. Everything he touched turned to gold. At one time, he was Dave’s boss. That’s how I met him. Dave introduced us.”

  “Then you live in Chicago, too?” Meghan asked.

  “Most of the time. I winter in Palm Beach.”

  Dave returned with their drinks and sat next to Suzanne, but before he could say anything Zach turned.

  “What do you do, Meghan? Seems to me you always had good grades. Didn’t you write short stories?”

  “Poetry, too. Now, I write novels.”

  “No kidding?” Suzanne said. “What kind of novels? Are you published?”

  “Mysteries and yes. I write under the name Meghan Bonaventure.”

  Zach sat back, eyebrows raised, and blew out a breath. “I’m impressed. I read Cruise to Death. You had me believing the doctor’s wife was the killer right up until the end.”

  “Thank you. That was a fun book to write. Put a bunch of people on a boat in the middle of the ocean with a killer on board and no way off. The Ghost Killers was harder. I had so many suspects it was hard keeping them straight.”

  “So, you’re rich and famous, now?” Dave’s smile had a predatory gleam.

  “My books have done well.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Zach told him. “I’d call the New York Times bestseller list better than well.”

  “Oh, shit!” Suzanne exclaimed, her forehead furrowing with a scowl.

  “What?” Dave jerked his attention back to his date.

  “Annabelle Peterson.”

  “Who?”

  “Eric Peterson’s wife. Three tables over. She graduated a year behind us.”

  All three of them looked. Meghan saw what had provoked Suzanne’s expletive immediately and wanted to laugh, but managed to keep a straight face.

  “What about her?” Dave said with a puzzled expression.

  “Her dress, you asshole. It’s the same as mine.”

  “You look better in it,” Zach commented, and then turned amused eyes toward Meghan.

  She couldn’t contain her mirth and let it bubble out. An angry Suzanne didn’t notice.

  “Of course I do. That’s not the point. Mine is a Gregoire original. I paid fifteen hundred bucks for it. Hers is a cheap knockoff. I heard Eric is a schoolteacher in Cincinnati. No way could she afford to pay what I did. Son of a bitch!”

  Suzanne downed her cocktail and glared at the other woman.

  Meghan had to admit, Suzanne did look better in the ice bl
ue, halter topped, chiffon creation. Annabelle’s legs were a bit too heavy to show off the swirling knee length skirt. But from a distance, the two women could have passed as sisters. Even their hairstyles were similar, although Suzanne’s flowing red locks beat out mouse brown any day of the week.

  “Dave, get me another drink.”

  Dave shot her a glance, but rose and walked away.

  “Hi! Mind if we join you?”

  Meghan looked up to see Jill Hardesty standing next to her. Jill hadn’t changed in twenty years. Petite with short-cropped blonde hair, her bubbly personality had made her a class favorite. Meghan couldn’t think of anyone who hadn’t liked her. A good-looking man stood behind her.

  “Jill, how nice to see you. Of course, have a seat,” Meghan said.

  “Thanks. This is my husband, Ted Kramer.” Ted waved and sat next to his wife. She peered at nametags. “Meghan and Zach? Holy cow! You two look fabulous.”

  Zach smiled. “Thanks, Jill. Nothing like extreme makeovers.”

  “Can we join the party?” Tom and Glory Ecklund, their fingers intertwined, stood behind the last two chairs.

  “Don’t see why not,” Zach replied.

  Meghan remembered Tom as a slender redhead with freckles. The years had not been kind. His hair had thinned, his stomach bulged, and a pair of glasses perched on his freckled nose. He set a glass of what looked like soda pop on the table and turned to his wife.

  “Why don’t you take a break, honey? You’ve been busy as a bee ever since we got here. Have a seat. I’ll get you something to drink. Diet soda?”

  “Oh, Tommy, that sounds wonderful.”

  Glory plopped down on the chair and hung her oversized purse over the back. She pushed some straggling strands of hair into the messy bun at the back of her head, and wiped a trickle of sweat from her temple with a tissue.

  The temperature in the room had risen with the crowd, and the black, high-necked, long-sleeved dress didn’t help matters. Even the material had a heavy polyester look. Meghan wondered why on earth she wore something like that in August.

  Dave returned with Suzanne’s drink and set it in front of her before once again casting his gaze on Zach. He opened his mouth to speak when a squealing microphone interrupted him.

  “Testing, testing. Can everybody hear me?” The present principal, Roger Clark, stood at the podium on a stage by the dance floor. “I want to welcome everybody to this class reunion. It’s a pleasure to see so many attendees. Is everyone having fun?”

  A chorus of yeses and a smattering of applause greeted his question. Meghan politely clapped, too. Dave raised his glass and smiled. Zach leaned back in his chair. Suzanne sipped her drink.

  “That’s great. Now, I do have a few announcements before we get started.” He pulled a slip of paper from his inside jacket pocket and unfolded it. “First of all, I would like to remind all of you about the dangers of drinking and driving. The hotel has assured me there are ample rooms available if anyone feels the need to stay over.”

  Zach slid his chair closer to Meghan and whispered, “I wonder if he’ll tuck us in, too.”

  He grinned, and Meghan chuckled. She remembered Roger Clark as the stodgy vice-principal. He hadn’t changed. Zach turned his attention back to the stage.

  Meghan didn’t remember Zach as being so good looking, but then she’d been no prize twenty years ago either. Tonight, an impeccable navy suit contrasting with a light blue shirt brought out the blue of his eyes. A multi-hued, conservative, patterned tie showed not only good taste, but spelled success as well. When did nerd become so sexy?

  “I also want to take this opportunity to ask that we all observe a moment of silence for those classmates who are no longer with us.”

  He stepped back from the mike and bowed his head. Dave and Suzanne exchanged a look and bolted their drinks. This time Dave didn’t wait. He got up and headed for the bar. Principal Clark returned to the microphone.

  “And now, I’d like to introduce your class president, Dan Masterson.”

  Dan Masterson—still tall and beefy, his dark brown hair just beginning to gray around the temples—bounded onstage with a broad smile and shook Clark’s hand like a pump handle.

  “Thank you, thank you, Principal Clark. I want to welcome all my classmates. Some of you have moved from our lovely town of Grandview, and I hope you find us still the friendly folk you left behind. We have a great economy and lots of opportunities.”

  “He sounds like a fucking politician,” Suzanne said with a curled lip.

  She didn’t bother to lower her voice and Meghan knew Dan had heard when his jaw clenched ever so briefly. Jill rolled her eyes while her husband shifted in his seat. Zach didn’t react to the profanity. Glory shot Suzanne a shocked look, but Tom smiled.

  “He is. He’s a city councilman running for mayor. I’m one of his campaign workers,” he commented.

  “Thank God I live in Chicago,” she muttered.

  “And Palm Beach,” Meghan murmured under her breath as Zach chuckled.

  Dan droned on for a few more minutes, and then finally put an end to his campaign pitch.

  “I have it on good authority that the buffet is now open. So, everybody come on up, have a great meal, and enjoy the dancing afterward. The cash bars close at midnight, by the way, but the hotel lounge is open until two. And don’t forget, there’s an informal get together out at Samson’s Lake tomorrow from noon until three. Hope to see you all there.” He left the stage to moderate applause.

  “Are you hungry?” Zach asked Meghan.

  “Starving. I was too nervous to eat lunch.”

  “You, too?” He glanced at the line forming by the buffet table. “Shall we?”

  He pulled her chair out and placed his hand in the small of her back, steering her toward the food. A little zing zipped along Meghan’s nerves. She caught her breath.

  Oh, my goodness. I know he’s good- looking, but I didn’t expect this.

  Her mind leaped to fantasy land and she tripped over a chair leg in her way. Only Zach’s quick hand around her waist saved her from a fall. He swung her to face him her breasts just inches from his chest.

  “Hey, careful there. Can’t have you getting trampled by the hungry hoards.” He smiled, his eyes taking on a brilliant color.

  Meghan’s heart thumped, and Zach ceased smiling as they swayed toward each other. Oh my God, was he going to kiss her in the middle of the dining room? In front of everybody?

  Lord, I hope so.

  Chapter Two

  Zach swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped back. He’d been an inch away from kissing her right in front of God and all their classmates. And what would Meghan’s response have been? A quick slap in the face?

  “Thank you,” Meghan said, a blush tinting her cheeks. “I guess I’m still not the most graceful person in the class.”

  “Not your fault. It’s crowded and the chair was in the way.”

  Meghan turned and Zach followed her through the crowd heading for the buffet wondering where he’d dug up the courage to speak to her in the first place. He’d even made her laugh earlier. Since when had he developed the priceless commodity of wit? Zach Dunbar and women didn’t mix. For some reason, he couldn’t find the words to utter much beyond ‘hello, how are you’ and ‘nice weather’. But give him a computer and a problem, and he could talk forever.

  Yet, Meghan was no computer and they’d had a normal conversation for the past hour. He’d learned the art of hiding his nervousness years ago. But then, Meghan had never been an ordinary girl. He remembered a sensitive, shy person—not unlike himself—who’d always answered his greetings with a smile. Those incredible deep emerald eyes set her apart from the crowd. He’d sometimes wound elaborate fantasies around the two of them as only a high school boy with hormones could do, and had nearly asked her to the senior prom, but chickened out at the last minute.

  “Wow, they’ve put on quite a spread,” Meghan commented, stopping in the serving lin
e. “If I’m not careful, I’ll bust right out of this dress.”

  Zach didn’t think that was such a bad idea. She looked fabulous. Her black hair hung to her shoulders where the ends curled under. The black dress was strapless and she held it up nicely. The top, covered with shiny things, fit snugly down to her hips where it flared out in a soft, lightweight material. Silver sandals adorned her feet. The pink polished toes peeking out looked seductive and he hoped he hadn’t developed a foot fetish.

  “I’m wondering if it would make sense to get salad first and come back later for entrees,” she continued.

  “From the looks of this hungry mob, they may scarf it clean.”

  Meghan chuckled. “I just hope I can balance the plates all the way back to the table. It would be just my luck to drop everything and look like a fool.”

  “In that case, I will promptly drop mine, too.”

  She sent him an amused look over her shoulder. His heart skipped a beat—or maybe added one. He wasn’t sure. For the love of God, pull yourself together before you say or do something stupid.

  Meghan took a plate from the stack and helped herself to various salads and fruit. When they arrived at the entrees, she selected a baked chicken breast, a dab of au gratin potatoes, and ignored the desserts.

  Zach requested two slabs of medium rare roast beef from the carver, and then heaped mashed potatoes and gravy on the plate. His mother was in his head ordering him to eat his vegetables, so in compliance, he added a moderate helping of green beans, also ignoring the desserts.

  He joined Meghan at the table. “I see you made it. Too bad. I’ve never been the center of attention before.”

  “I can always go back through the line if that’ll make you happy.”

  Now, Zach laughed. The teasing banter sped up his heart rate. When was the last time he’d had this much fun? He couldn’t remember.

  The table was empty except for Suzanne who nursed her cocktail. The rest of their classmates had apparently gravitated to the buffet.

  Tom Ecklund returned with two plates, both overflowing. Glory followed with more modest, but still full portions. She sat heavily with a sigh. To Zach, she looked exhausted, but then the woman had been scurrying around the ballroom as if the success of the event rested entirely on her shoulders. And she wasn’t even a classmate.