by Amy Brent
He wracked his brain, trying to come up with a single name. The only one he could remember was...Amanda.
He leaned back on his elbows, staring at the ceiling. Amanda. That was a name he hadn't thought about in a long time. His sister's best friend. He was pretty sure she'd had a crush on him for years before they finally shared that one night together. He'd had a bit of a thing for her himself. But over the years, whenever Michelle had caught him staring at her friend, she'd made a point to tell him there was no way it would happen. She'd lectured him on more than one occasion, telling him she knew the reputation he'd developed, even back in college, and how she was not going to let her best friend become just another one of his conquests. He'd protested more than once that it wouldn't be like that...but then, he had probably been fooling himself.
He still felt like a chump for leaving her that night. He'd gotten up early, while Amanda was still in his bed, and headed downstairs for some breakfast. Michelle had confronted him in the kitchen, accusing him of taking advantage of Amanda and using her while she was drunk and vulnerable. He'd been so drunk the night before that he couldn't remember who had initiated things, him or Amanda. But the way Michelle painted the picture, he'd practically been a predator, seducing the young, shy, virgin girl and luring her into his bed.
After Michelle had finished berating him, he'd been so ashamed that he'd left without going back upstairs to even say goodbye. He'd felt bad about that for years. There had been more than one time, early on, that he'd asked Michelle about her, trying to keep up with how Amanda was doing, whether she was seeing anyone. But Michelle had refused to even give him Amanda's phone number, and she'd eventually told him to stop asking about her.
He stared at the ceiling, wondering about how Amanda was doing. She'd been a sweet girl. Sure, it had only been one night. But even before that, whenever she was over at the house, studying with Michelle, he'd enjoyed her company. He remembered her being funny, and smart, and full of energy.
If he was going to be back in town anyway, he wondered if maybe he could look her up. But...no, he knew he couldn't. Michelle would probably still be bad at him for seducing her friend and then leaving her after a one-night stand. And besides, Amanda had probably moved on. She'd been a beautiful and amazing girl. She must have found someone else by now.
He got up and finished throwing the rest of his clothes into a bag, then headed downstairs to check out and head to the airport. Maybe he'd ask Michelle about her friend when he got into town. It couldn't hurt to ask.
Chapter 3
Amanda looked at herself in the mirror one last time. She was wearing a skimpy black dress she'd first bought more than two years ago for a date. The date, as she recalled, had ended badly, with the guy feeling her up in the front seat of his car while they were parked outside Amanda's apartment, then getting mad when she wouldn't invite him upstairs. She hadn't wanted to sleep with anyone on the first date—her experience with Cole had made her wary of one night stands—and she definitely wasn't going to bring anyone upstairs while her son was in the apartment with the babysitter.
The dress was probably a little too flirty to wear to meet her friend's fiance, but it was the newest and nicest thing she owned. It had been years since she'd been able to afford new clothes, other than a few cheap pairs of jeans and t-shirts from Walmart. It was either this dress, or something that was old, frayed, and possibly stained. James had once had the bad habit of vomiting all over her clothes when he was an infant, and her wardrobe had never recovered.
The doorbell rang. She hurried into the living room and scooped James up in her arms. “Come on, sweetie, you get to spend the night at Mrs. Carter's and play with Billy.
She dropped her son off at the neighbor's, then headed downstairs. Michelle was waiting at the door, wearing an expensive-looking dress. It was hard to tell at a glance, but Amanda was guessing it was a designer label.
“Hey, you!” Michelle squealed and took Amanda's hands, shaking them excitedly. “Oh my God, I've missed you so much!”
“Hey,” Amanda said, trying to put as much enthusiasm into her voice as Michelle had in hers. “It's good to see you.”
“I can't wait for you to meet Blake,” Michelle said. She led Amanda to the car. It was a luxury rental, and Amanda tried not to think about how much it must have cost. It was starting to look like Michelle was marrying money. Amanda was a little jealous.
Amanda got into the backseat. Blake half turned in his seat to flash a smile at her. He was a gorgeous man, dressed in an expensive silk shirt and a black blazer. Even his designer sunglasses looked like they cost more than Amanda made in a week.
“Blake, this is my absolute best friend ever, Amanda.” Michelle gestured from the front seat, a huge smile on her face. “Amanda, this is my man.”
“Nice to meet you,” Blake said. He eyed her over the rim of his sunglasses for a moment, smiling flirtatiously. Then he turned around and put the car into gear. “I hope you brought your appetite.”
“I'm starved,” Amanda said. She had skipped lunch when Michelle called to say that Blake insisted on taking them all out to dinner. She felt a little guilty about taking advantage of his generosity, but she planned to fill up at dinner as long as the meal was on Blake. Though from the looks of things, he could more than afford to treat them to a night out.
Blake took them to a fancy restaurant in a part of the city Amanda never went into. She usually considered a night at Applebee's to be a luxury. This place was so upscale it made Applebee's look like her old high school cafeteria. They even took reservations, and someone at the front offered to take Blake's coat.
They sat and ate, and at first the conversation was all about the wedding. Michelle went on and on about all of the last-minute planning that had gone into it, how they were flying in a photographer from Boston because they'd needed someone who could work on short notice, and how her dress was being shipped in from Paris. Amanda sat there, stunned, having a hard time processing how the girl she'd went to high school with had somehow managed to snag someone who was rich enough to spoil her like this.
When there was finally a pause in Michelle's wedding-related rants, Amanda asked, “So, how did you two meet?”
“Well,” Michelle said, “you remember how I told you I was doing everything I could to land a part in a commercial to jump-start my acting career?”
“Yeah,” Amanda said, her face turning red. She distinctly remembered Michelle saying she'd be willing to sleep with a producer or director if it would get her a part.
“Well, Blake here,” Michelle squeezed Blake's arm, flashing him a smile, “had some really fascinating projects in the works. He gave me a chance to audition, and, well, one thing led to another.” She shrugged, still smiling innocently. Though from the smirk on Blake's face, Amanda was pretty sure that Michelle's “audition” had been performed on her back.
“So, did you get the part?” Amanda asked.
Michelle waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, I've been too busy to worry about that sort of thing anymore. Besides, once we get married, I won't need to work. Blake's going to take care of me.”
Amanda chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying not to stare at Blake. She had a hard time with the idea of him convincing Michelle to settle down and be the wife. No doubt he'd expect her to raise their kids, if they had any, while he continued focusing on his fabulous Hollywood career. But there had been a time when all Michelle could talk about was pursuing her acting career. If she had really given it up that easily, all for a man, then that was about the saddest thing Amanda could think of.
But then again, Michelle looked happy. Amanda wasn't about to rain on her parade.
“That's great,” Amanda said. She sipped at her wine, trying not to think about the price Blake had paid for it. “I hope you two are happy together.”
“We are,” Michelle said, clinging to Blake's arm. “I've found the perfect man, and I couldn't be happier.”
Blake shrugged and a smug smirk spread across his face. “Well, I guess she knew a good thing when she saw one.”
Amanda fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“So,” Michelle said, “the talk has all been about the wedding, and you haven't told me anything about you! How've you been?”
Amanda shrugged and looked away, toying with her fork. She didn't much care to talk about how she was working two jobs to support her son, and how she hadn't been on a date, or even had a night out with friends, in almost a year. “I'm getting by,” she said. “You know how it is. But James is doing great. He's going to be starting preschool in the fall.”
“Oh, that's great!” Michelle grinned wide. “I miss the little guy. You should have brought him with you.”
Blake shot Michelle a cautious look. “How old is he, exactly?”
“Four,” Amanda said.
Blake gave her a level stare. “Are you planning to bring him to the wedding?”
Amanda frowned, grinding her teeth. “Well, yeah. It's kind of a big event. I'm sure he's going to love it.”
“It's just,” Blake said, “I don't think there's really going to be any other kids there.”
Amanda was about to snap and say that if her son wasn't welcome, she wouldn't be coming either. But Michelle interjected. “It'll be fine.” Michelle waved a hand dismissively. “He's old enough that he won't be crying or anything. Besides, he should be there when his Aunt Michelle gets married.”
Amanda froze, a chill running down her spine. As far as she knew, Michelle had no idea that she was actually James's aunt. She was sure Michelle had just meant it figuratively, the way some kids referred to their mom's best friend as an aunt.
Though it made Amanda remember her other big concern about the weekend. “Is Cole going to be there?”
Michelle's expression dropped and she pressed her lips together in a thin line. “Yeah. Yeah, he is.”
Amanda felt her face heat up.
“Hey, I need to go to the bathroom,” Michelle said.
“Me too.” Amanda got up to join her.
Once they were in the privacy of the bathroom, Michelle started touching up her makeup in the mirror. “Is everything going to be okay with you and Cole?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Amanda said, shrugging. “I mean, I guess so. It was a long time ago. I don't really care anymore.”
“I was mad at him for a long time for what he did to you,” Michelle said. “I still can't believe he took advantage of you like that.”
“Yeah,” Amanda said, letting out a nervous laugh. Looking back on it now, she wasn't sure whether she'd been taken advantage of. She'd wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted to give herself to him. If not for how he'd run out on her in the morning and never called again, she would have been happy.
“Has he ever...asked about me?” Amanda asked, looking into the mirror in order to avoid meeting Michelle's eye.
Michelle glanced at her sidelong while she reapplied her lipstick. “Not for a while.”
“Not for a while?” Amanda frowned and turned to Michelle. “What do you mean?”
Michelle shrugged. “Well, he asked about you a couple of times, years ago. I told him to leave you alone. I didn't want him leading you on.”
“What? You...you told him not to call me?”
“Well, yeah.” Michelle pouted, putting her hands on Amanda's shoulders “Look, hon, you had enough on your plate. After you started dating Robert and he got you knocked up, I knew the last thing you needed was my brother trying to cheat his way into your pants again. You were better off.”
“Yeah,” Amanda said, frowning and turning away. “Maybe.” Of course, Michelle didn't know that Amanda had never slept with Robert. She'd gone on two or three dates with him over the summer after high school, then broken up with him when she'd found out that she was pregnant. Claiming the baby was Robert's had been the less humiliating option, especially since he'd moved to Florida for college in the fall. Amanda had never heard from him again, and she didn't much care if Michelle thought he was a deadbeat dad. It was better than her knowing that her brother was the father.
Though as they returned to the table and the conversation returned to the wedding and the rehearsal dinner, she was reminded once again that she would soon have to face Cole for the first time in years. And she had no idea what she was going to say to him.
Chapter 4
Cole pulled his rental car up to his parents' house, then stopped to look at the long line of cars that stretched down the block on both sides of the street. He had never seen it this busy here before. The house was in the wealthier part of town—he'd bought his parents a new house with the money from his first big signing bonus, as a thank you for all of their support through his high school and college years. The neighborhood was far from crowded, and he didn't know what was going on.
When he walked into the house, he was greeted with applause. There were dozens of people there. Some of them were old high school friends, plus people he knew from his dad's country club, and others from his mom's book club. But there were many more he didn't know.
“Welcome home, son,” his dad said, shaking his hand and clapping him on the back.
“Thanks. What's all this?” He gestured around to the large crowd.
“Well, when word got around that you were coming home, there were a bunch of people that wanted to meet you. It started off as a small gathering, but I guess it grew into quite a party.”
He had little choice but to make the rounds and start greeting people. Most of them fawned over him, the men asking him about the latest game and whether he thought his team was going to the Superbowl. Men who had yelled at him when he was a boy—for smashing their pumpkins on Halloween or playing football in the street and blocking traffic—now shook his hand and treated him like he was a prince. His junior high English teacher, who'd once called him “a worthless little shit who was never going to go anywhere with his life,” came up to him, patted him on the back, and raved about how he'd always known that Cole was going to be a success.
And then there were the girls. He recognized a few of them from his high school days: girls who had never so much as given him the time of day. Now they wanted to talk to him and catch up on old times. Others he didn't know at all, though they all said they'd met him at some point or another. The younger sister of this girl he went to school with, the cousin of some other girl who had supposedly been on the cheerleading squad, and others with vaguer connections they used as an excuse to talk to him. More than one asked him if he had a date for the wedding, but he evaded the question every time. He wasn't sure what was going on with the wedding, but he wasn't interested in going with some random girl who only cared about him because his name had been on the news a few times.
By the time he'd made his way through most of the crowd, he realized there was one person that wasn't here. The one person he'd actually been looking forward to seeing again.
Eventually he decided to just bite the bullet and ask about her. He corralled his sister into Dad's study and shut the door behind them so they could have some privacy. “Hey,” he said. “Some party, huh?”
“Yeah.” She smirked and stuck her hands in her pockets. “It was supposed to be a wedding party for me, but I think most of these people just showed up to see you.”
Her tone was teasing and playful, but Cole couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. “Sorry about that. If I'd known they were planning something like this, I would have gotten them to cancel it.”
“Oh, sure. Like Dad would give up the chance to show off his famous son for the whole town to see.”
Cole laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, I guess he likes having the chance to live in the spotlight.”
He cleared his throat, then pushed forward onto the topic he really wanted to ask about. “So, hey, listen. How's your friend Amanda been? Is she coming to the wedding?”
Michelle's expression dropped into a cold
stare. “What do you care? You haven't seen her in years.”
Cole shrugged, rubbing the back of his head and looking down at the carpet. “I dunno. I just wondered if she was going to be around. It'd be nice to catch up.”
Michelle crossed her arms, eyeing him suspiciously. “Well, she'll be in the wedding. But I'm sure she's going to be too busy to catch up. Bridesmaid duties and all that.”
“Hmm.” Cole rubbed his chin. “Well, maybe we can get together before the wedding. I've got nothing but free time this weekend. Any chance you can give me her number? I'd really like to get in touch with her.”
Michelle stared him down, chewing on her lip. “Well, she just got a new phone,” she said. “I don't have the new number yet. So, I guess you're out of luck.”
Michelle walked past him and out the door. Cole watched her go, frowning at her back. He had the feeling Michelle was lying to him, but there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it. It wasn't like he could steal her phone and go through her contacts list.
But now he was more determined than ever to track Amanda down. How hard could it be? They lived in a small town, and there were plenty of other people he could ask. It shouldn't be too difficult, he figured, to find a way to get into touch with her.
Chapter 5
Amanda worked a double on Friday, to make up for the hours she was going to lose by going to Michelle's wedding. It was a long, grueling shift, and by the end of it, her feet were so sore that she had to lean on the counter as she walked. She really wanted nothing more than to go home, stick her feet in the cheap little foot bath she'd gotten for Christmas a couple of years ago, and forget about the rest of the world. Though her shift wasn't quite over yet, and the end of the night always seemed to drag on and on.
She was down to her last table of the night, and she was spending most of her time finishing up side work so that she'd be able to go home on time. Tonight's side work was refilling all of the ketchup bottles; the diner washed and reused the ketchup bottles to save money, and refilled them from a bulk container. She had a line of ketchup bottles set up on a table near the back, with the mostly-empty bottles turned upside-down and balanced atop others to drain ketchup into them, so the empty bottles could be washed. It was a tedious and sticky process, though she had to admit it was better than what she went through changing out the salt and pepper shakers.