“Hey now, slow down,” the taller of the two said with a grin. “What’s the rush?”
Danielle pointed to her empty glass, then to the bar. “Do I need to explain further?”
The shorter of the two put a hand on his chest. “This round’s on me. What are you drinking? I’m Evan, by the way.” He smiled at Danielle and appeared to be a bit smitten.
Danielle squinted at him. “You realize it’s an open bar, right?”
Evan laughed but was clearly nervous. “Uh, yeah, that was supposed to be a joke.”
Danielle shrugged. “OK, not bad, not bad. I’ll have a gin and tonic. I’m Danielle.”
Cassidy pointed to her glass. “Another Malbec would be nice. I’m Cassidy.”
“One gin and tonic, one Malbec, coming right up. Stay right here.” Evan pointed to the spot where they were standing, then turned and squeezed through the crowd toward the bar.
His friend held out a hand. “I’m Conner.”
Danielle shook it. “Hi, Conner, it’s nice to meet you.” By the way Danielle was looking at him, Cassidy could tell she was sizing him up for a potential smooch. There was no denying he was cute, despite appearing so young. But given how Evan had just been ogling Danielle, Cassidy suspected an awkward love triangle was about to unfold.
“Do you work with Harper?” Danielle asked him.
He glanced down at his outfit. “That obvious?”
She smiled. “The banker uniform sort of gives it away.”
He laughed. “Busted. What about you two? How do you know the birthday boy?”
Cassidy gestured to herself, then to Danielle. “I live in his building, and Danielle’s a good friend of mine.”
Connor nodded. “Cool. It’s nice to see some older women here.”
Danielle coughed. “Come again?”
Connor’s face turned red. “Um, I didn’t mean…I meant…”
“You didn’t mean what?” Evan reappeared and handed Cassidy and Danielle their drinks.
“He didn’t mean to say we’re old.” Danielle took a sip of her drink.
Evan flashed Connor an irritated look. “Dude, I was gone for like two minutes. What is wrong with you?”
“Uh…” was all Connor could come up with in response.
Danielle grabbed Cassidy’s arm and pulled her away. “It was lovely chatting with you two, but we’ve got to run along to bed now, advanced age and all, you know how it is. Thanks for the drinks.”
As they blended into the crowd, Cassidy leaned toward Danielle’s ear and borrowed one of Patti’s favorite lines. “We must never speak of that again.”
Danielle laughed. “Holy frick. Maybe you can use that in one of your books.”
Despite the evening’s inauspicious beginning, Cassidy and Danielle ended up having a great time at the party and were two of the last people to leave. After Connor’s candid admission, they’d retreated briefly to a corner to lick their wounds and considered going home, but then the DJ, who they jokingly decided must be from their generation, started playing a lot of early nineties music, and they hit the dance floor with a vengeance. Sometimes with a partner, but just as often without, they danced and danced and didn’t stop until the DJ packed it in.
“Wow, you two seriously rallied.” Harper came up to them as they were in line to retrieve their coats. Vanessa was on his arm and appeared quite drunk, as did many of the guests still milling about. Cassidy, who had cut herself off at two drinks hours ago, took a look around the room and thought I remember those days. Somehow it seemed like a lifetime ago and not long ago at all. One thing she remembered clearly from those days: most of these people were going to be hurting at work tomorrow morning.
Danielle smoothed her hair with one hand. “I haven’t danced that much since my clubbing days. It’s sad to say, but I bet my legs are going to hate me tomorrow.”
Cassidy buttoned up her coat. “And I’m sad to say I never had clubbing days at all.”
“I could really use a slice of pizza right about now. Interested?” Danielle looked at her.
Cassidy nodded. “I’m in. Harper? Vanessa? You guys hungry?”
Harper adjusted his scarf and tilted his head toward Vanessa, who was staring off into space. “I think I’ve got to put this one to bed and get some sleep myself, but thanks for the offer.”
Cassidy gave him a look of feigned sympathy. “I understand. Now that you’re thirty, you need to get to bed early.”
Vanessa wrapped her arms around him and slurred, “You ready, old man?”
“Sure thing, just need to settle up with the manager.” He pointed toward the front of the room. “Thanks again for coming, Cassidy. And Danielle, it was really nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. Happy birthday, Harper.”
As she watched Harper guide a wobbly Vanessa in the other direction, Cassidy wondered what it would be like to be twenty-five again. If she were to do it all over, knowing what she did now, would her life turn out differently?
The real question was, would she want it to?
She felt a rush of happiness as she realized that the answer was no.
Despite the occasional bout of self-doubt, her life was pretty good just as it was.
Cassidy was just about to bite into her second piece of pizza when she heard her phone chime. She set the slice down and began digging around in her purse.
Danielle gave her a look. “You’re not going to eat this cheesy deliciousness while it’s hot?”
“I just want to see who the text is from.”
“You mean you want to see if high-school guy texted you.”
Cassidy smiled as she dug. “Perhaps.”
Danielle kept eating her pizza. “It would have to be a pretty steamy text to pull me away from this greasy slice of heaven right now.”
Cassidy looked at her phone and let out a tiny squeal. “Three text messages in a row! All from him!”
“What do they say?”
“The first one says, ‘Four tequila shots and counting.’ The second one says, ‘I’m hammered. Have I told you I think ur beautiful?’ And the third one says, ‘Ur so pretty. So so pretty.’”
“No way.”
Cassidy showed her the phone. “Read for yourself.”
Danielle looked at the screen and nodded. “He’s definitely into you.”
Cassidy pressed the phone against her heart. “Brandon Forrester likes me,” she whispered.
Danielle gave her a look. “What is this—math class? You do realize you’re not actually in high school anymore, right?
“I sort of feel like it right now.”
“You think he’s going to ask you to the prom?”
Cassidy smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. “Maybe.”
Chapter Seven
THE NEXT MORNING Cassidy called to make an appointment for a manicure at Annabelle’s, then spent a few hours working on her novel. After lunch she was on her way out the door to the salon when her phone rang. She smiled when she saw the name on the display.
Brandon!
She locked her front door and tossed the keys into her purse. “Well, hello there, Mr. Multiple Tequila Shots, how are we feeling today?”
“Not well. Did I wake you up from your nap?”
She laughed. “You’re good. Way to deflect the heckling.”
“I’m an attorney. It’s all about diversion and plausible denial. So did I wake you?”
“For the record, it’s not three o’clock yet, so no, you didn’t. What happened last night? By the way, I’m about to get into an elevator right now, so if I lose you, don’t think I hung up on you.”
“If I tell you about last night, I fear you may hang up on me, then possibly delete me from your phone.”
“Oh, really? Now you must tell me. Getting in the elevator right now.
”
“I rode the bull at the Old Pro.”
Her jaw dropped as she pressed the button for the lobby. “No way.”
“It’s true.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. “I can’t believe it.” Much to the chagrin of many a well-heeled Palo Alto resident, the Old Pro sports bar featured a mechanical bull in a back corner.
“I bet it’s been a while since a gray-haired father of two has been on that thing.”
She felt her face contort a bit. “I can’t even imagine what that looked like.”
“Please don’t try to. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”
“I would have paid to see it. Did anyone take a video?”
“Oh God, let’s hope not. That could put my firm out of business. Is it too early to order Chinese food?”
She stepped out of the elevator and glanced at the big clock mounted on the lobby wall. It was five minutes before one o’clock, at least on the East Coast. “Are Chinese restaurants open at ten in the morning?”
“I sure hope so. This hangover might kill me if I don’t eat something greasy soon.”
“I’m liking this side of you. At dinner the other night, you seemed to have it so together. Stepping outside now, so if I lose you it’s because I got hit by a car.”
“Thanks for the play-by-play. I hardly have it all together, as you could probably tell by my drunken confessional text messages.”
She felt her cheeks get warm and paused.
“Did you get hit by a car?” he asked. “Are you still alive?”
She swallowed and finally replied. “Still alive. And actually…I liked your text messages,” she said softly.
“You did?”
“Very much.” I loved them!
“I’m glad to hear that. I was a little worried when you didn’t respond.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure whether it was, you know, just drunken chatter that you were going to…regret.”
“No, can’t claim it was just drunken chatter.”
“So no plausible denial?”
“In this case, no.”
Another silence followed.
It was delicious.
After a few seconds, Brandon spoke. “Thank God I don’t have the boys this weekend. I’m going to be asleep by eight tonight.”
“I take it you don’t normally drink that much?”
“Not since I had kids, no way. It’s just too hard. Now I only drink at all once in a blue moon, although that blue moon usually rises when this particular client is in town. He’s nuts, and he likes to schedule late meetings so he can drag me out on the town afterward. It’s usually a lot of fun, but I end up paying for it big-time. I just can’t drink like that anymore and function like a productive human being the next day, much less a responsible father.”
“I hear you. I had two glasses of wine last night and I can feel it today. How sad.”
“Maybe for Halloween this year we should both go as old people. Then we wouldn’t have to dress up.”
She laughed. “I’m actually coming home for Halloween.”
“You are? For book stuff?”
“Technically I’ll be out there to speak at a conference, but to be honest, I agreed to do it because I want to take my nieces trick-or-treating.”
“How long will you be in town?”
“About a week.” Please ask me on a date.
“A whole week, eh?”
“Yes.” Please ask me on a date.
“Why didn’t you mention that the other night?”
She hesitated before responding. “Honest answer?”
“Of course.”
She bit her lip. “Because I was too nervous.”
He laughed. “I make you nervous?”
“Maybe.”
“Am I making you nervous now?”
“Honest answer?”
“Yes.”
She chewed on her thumbnail. “Maybe.”
“I like when you’re honest. I think it’s attractive. I think you’re very attractive.”
She felt her neck getting hot. “Um, thanks.” Please ask me on a date. She was just steps away from the salon now and would have to hang up in a moment.
She looked up at the friendly sign that said annabelle’s.
It was time to go.
Damn.
She began to speak. “Listen—”
He interrupted her. “So…maybe you and I could try dinner again when you’re out here?”
She exhaled and smiled into the phone. “I’d like that.”
“Well, hello there. We meet again. Can I take your coat?” The owner approached Cassidy with a warm smile and gestured to the manicure table. “Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?”
“Thanks, that would be nice.” Cassidy removed her coat and glanced around the quiet salon, which was about half full and smelled like fresh pine needles. She took a seat at the table on the far side of the room and interlaced her hands in her lap, enjoying the classical music playing in the background. She could still hear the street traffic outside, but there was no denying the soothing ambience of Annabelle’s. Cassidy had just arrived and already she felt more relaxed.
A few moments later, the woman set a steaming cup of tea on the table, then placed a warm wrap around Cassidy’s neck before taking a seat across from her.
“That feels wonderful,” Cassidy said.
The woman winked and held out her hands. “Now let’s have another look at those mittens of yours, shall we?” She kept her voice low, which Cassidy liked.
“Do I have to show you?”
The woman laughed. “Believe me, I’ve seen worse than yours. Now hand them over.”
Cassidy relented. “How is business going so far?”
“Pretty well, I must say. Our evening schedule is already booked up this week, as is Saturday. Sunday we have just a few appointments left.”
“Already? That’s impressive.”
“It’s mostly Annabelle’s friends, but she has a lot of friends.”
“Annabelle?”
“The woman who was in here the other day, the one I thought was missing her appointment? She owns this place.”
Cassidy could feel the confusion spread over her face. “You’re not Annabelle?”
“Oh no, love. I’m Darlene.”
“This isn’t your shop?”
Darlene shook her head. “Oh, how I wish it were, but no. Annabelle Polanski owns it. Or she and her husband do, I should say. I’m just the manager, love.”
“I’m sorry, I just assumed…because you were here the other day.”
Darlene squeezed her hands. “Don’t worry. I care about this place as if it were my own. That’s enough for me. Now let’s do something about these nails.”
Cassidy closed her eyes and spent the entire manicure reliving the conversation with Brandon in her head.
Several hours later Cassidy was still at her desk when she heard the chime of her phone. She picked it up and smiled at the sight of Brandon’s name:
Just wanted to repeat that I find you very attractive.
The rest of the conversation was threaded throughout the afternoon and evening:
You do?
Yes. There’s something in your eyes. It’s sexy.
MY eyes? Do you own a mirror?
I like yours. The green is…alluring.
Yours are beyond cool. They remind me of a wolf’s.
You’re telling me I look like a wolf?
Ha. Just the eyes, silly. You definitely do not have a wolf face.
Glad to hear it. I’m already looking forward to our date. T-minus three weeks, and believe me, I’m counting.
Brandon texted her again the next morning to say hi, as well as the morning
after that, and before she knew it, they were texting back and forth regularly, each day sprinkled with a steady stream of flirtatious banter combined with regular conversation that left her with a permanent half smile on her face. In addition to the text messages, every few nights he’d call her on the phone, and they’d chat for an hour or two, the time whipping by until a weary Cassidy finally had to force herself to go to bed. Between talk about family, friends, his kids, her books, his work, and their favorite movies, there seemed to be no lack of topics of conversation.
They even covered their favorite foods.
“Marshmallows? For real?” Brandon said one Tuesday night after his kids had gone to sleep. “I thought it was just your favorite dessert, not your favorite food. Is that even a food?”
Cassidy curled her legs up against her chest. “You sound like Patti, and I already know where this conversation is going. Let’s just agree to disagree, OK?”
“Disagreement agreed. How’s the book coming along?”
“It’s coming. I still need to come up with a good name for one of the characters. Hey, want to help?” She reached for the notebook on her nightstand.
“Sure. Who is it?”
“It’s a tall, skinny woman in her late forties, American, sort of bitchy. She runs a Pilates studio in San Francisco.”
“A bitchy Pilates instructor? I don’t do Pilates, but isn’t that sort of an oxymoron?”
Cassidy shrugged. “Perhaps, but not this time. So what do you think? It’s always hard for me to name characters because I always associate them with people I know in real life. And when the character isn’t a fan favorite, it’s especially hard because I don’t want to offend anyone.”
He laughed. “You know that many people?”
“Hey now, it’s harder than it sounds. So what have you got?”
He paused for a moment. “How about Liza?
“Nope. There was a Liza in my sorority. What if I run into her at a reunion or something? You know how people run into each other at reunions…”
“I do know how people run into each other at reunions. What about Simone?”
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