Cassidy Lane

Home > Other > Cassidy Lane > Page 17
Cassidy Lane Page 17

by Murnane, Maria


  Chapter Fourteen

  “SHE’S ALERT?”

  Brandon nodded. “Looks like she’s out of the woods.”

  “And no brain damage?”

  “They don’t think so.”

  Cassidy smiled and reached for his hand. “That’s wonderful news. You must be so relieved.” They were seated at an outdoor table at Mayfield Bakery, located at the bustling Town & Country shopping center, directly across the street from Palo Alto High School.

  He took her hand and squeezed it briefly, then released it and picked up his cappuccino. “Unfortunately, she’s paralyzed on the left side of her body.”

  Cassidy’s face fell. “Oh my God. The entire left side?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Is it permanent?”

  “They think it will go away, but she’s going to need extensive therapy, both physical and speech.”

  Cassidy put a hand over her mouth. “You mean…to learn to talk?”

  “Yes.” His demeanor was matter-of-fact, more hardened than he’d been on Saturday. He still looked exhausted.

  “I’m so sorry,” Cassidy whispered.

  “Thanks.”

  “Will she stay in the hospital?”

  He shook his head. “We need to get her into a rehab facility. Finding a good one is our top priority right now.”

  “Is your brother going to stick around to help you?”

  “Unfortunately, he can’t. He’s headed back up to Portland tomorrow. His wife’s about to have a baby, their third.”

  “Oh, wow, not the best timing.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she stiffened, remembering how she’d thought the same thing about their budding romance.

  “Terrible timing. And we just got two new clients, so things are about to get crazy at work.”

  She nodded but didn’t reply. What could she say?

  They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks. Then he reached for her hand again, and she felt her whole body relax.

  “Thanks for being so supportive.” He stroked his thumb over her fingers. “You’ve really been great.”

  “Oh, gosh, of course.”

  “It means a lot to me.”

  She squeezed his hand. “You mean a lot to me.”

  “You mean a lot to me too.”

  She considering bringing up her keynote, then decided against it. Although she would have liked to share her disappointment in her performance with him, he had enough on his mind.

  He glanced at his watch. “What time do you leave for the airport?”

  “In about an hour.”

  “You all packed?”

  “Yes, sir. I couldn’t go for a run this morning, so I packed instead.”

  “Why couldn’t you go for a run?”

  “Achilles tendinitis. It should be fine, but I need to rest it, which means no running for a few weeks.”

  “I need to start running. I haven’t worked out in ages. I’m getting soft.”

  She gave him the up and down with her eyes. “You look pretty good to me.”

  He laughed. “I think you need to get your eyes checked.” He stood up without letting go of her hand, then gave it a squeeze. “We’d better get a move on. You need to get to the airport, and I need to stop by the office on my way back to the hospital.”

  He walked her to her car, and when she stopped and reached for her keys, he released her hand and gently touched her cheek. His fingers were warm and soft, and she felt her knees wobble slightly at the contact.

  “You’ve been really good to me, Cassidy. I know I’ve been distracted, and you’ve been so patient. I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”

  She smiled and put a hand over his. “I like being good to you. In fact, I wish I could have done more. And you’re worth being patient for.”

  “I know I’m not acting like it right now, but believe me, I know you’re special.” He kissed her gently on the lips, then hugged her and took a step back. “Have a safe flight back. Text me when you get in, OK?”

  She nodded weakly, already missing him. “Will do.”

  She drove to her parents’ house in a fog of conflicting emotions, savoring the feel of his lips on hers, wanting to touch him again, aching for the pain he must be feeling, longing to ease his suffering.

  And even though she knew it was a lot to ask, she couldn’t help but wish he’d asked her about her speech.

  Chapter Fifteen

  DETERMINED TO GET back on New York time right away, Cassidy reluctantly woke up to the sound of her alarm clock at eight o’clock the next morning. Part of her was tempted to turn it off and stay nestled in her cozy bed, but she’d learned from experience that the only way to readjust to the time change was to rip off the figurative Band-Aid and get moving—literally. A glance out her bedroom window showed a dark sky and pouring rain, so off to the gym upstairs it was. A ride on the stationary bike was all her injured leg would allow anyway.

  She kicked off the sheets and tried not to think about how warm she could be in Palo Alto.

  In more ways than one.

  That afternoon she called Danielle, expecting to leave her a voice mail. She was pretty sure Danielle was on the road, and she rarely answered her phone even when she was in New York, so Cassidy was surprised when her friend picked up.

  “Hey, lady, are you back from California?” Danielle asked.

  “I got in late last night. Where are you? And what’s this trouble you mentioned in your text?” Cassidy scrolled through the manuscript on her computer screen as she spoke.

  “I was in Baltimore for a couple of days, then Boston, but right now I’m in a cab on the way home from the airport, or on the way to the office, I should say. I’m dying to sleep in my own bed tonight. I’ll tell you about the trouble the next time I see you.”

  “Want to do brunch this weekend? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, I’ve been swamped. And I’m back on the road Friday. What about tonight? Want to grab a drink?”

  “Sure, as long as it’s not too early. I have a manicure at seven.”

  “Since when do you get manicures?”

  “I’ve recently discovered that rewarding myself with salon treatments is helping me to be more productive on my book.”

  “Rewarding yourself or bribing yourself?”

  “Tomayto, tomahto. Either way, I’m turning over a new leaf in the nail-management department, so it’s a win-win for all.”

  “You’re still the only one in the equation, hon. And I’ll believe your nail-biting days are over when I see it. Are you going to throw away your sweatpants too?”

  Cassidy smiled. “Don’t talk crazy now.”

  “Would Bin 71 work? I could definitely use a nice goblet of wine.”

  “You say that every time we get together.”

  “Well, I’m a smart woman. Want to meet at eight?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Cassidy spent the rest of the afternoon at her desk, carefully crafting an emotional turning point for Emma, her increasingly disillusioned heroine. After toiling for weeks to prepare a new business pitch, the night before the presentation Emma confides to Donna, the soft-spoken aesthetician who does her monthly facials, how little she actually cares about bringing in the account, her first since her big promotion.

  With a gentle yet supportive nudge, accomplished in remarkably few words, wise Donna prompts Emma to admit—to herself—that her heart just isn’t in the career she’s chosen.

  To admit that she feels unfulfilled.

  And lost.

  And alone, because her boyfriend thinks she’s being foolish for not appreciating the professional opportunity before her.

  Then Emma realizes that painful as it may be, her life has to change. And that sh
e’s the only one who can change it.

  After typing furiously for several hours, Cassidy sat back and smiled at the work she’d done. Darlene’s nurturing spirit had now touched both Cassidy and her latest heroine, and they were both grateful for it.

  She checked the time and was surprised to see it was nearly six o’clock. She stretched her arms over her head, then stood up and walked into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. It was still raining outside. She’d been writing most of the day and realized she was still in her workout clothes. She’d meant to shower when she got back from the gym, but she’d sat down for a few moments at her desk and the story had started to speak to her, so she’d listened. When she could go all day without showering, she knew she was in a groove with her writing. But now it was time to clean herself up and rejoin society, starting with her appointment at Annabelle’s.

  As the hot water rolled over her back and shoulders, Cassidy flushed with pride at having put in a solid day’s work. She hadn’t heard from Brandon since last night, but given what he was currently dealing with, she wasn’t surprised. Plus the break from constant texting had allowed her to get more work done on her book in a single day than she had in ages. She was normally a relatively disciplined writer, but ever since Brandon had entered the picture, her ability to concentrate had unraveled, her cool focus melted by steamy memories of what it felt like to be kissed by him.

  And kiss him back.

  And hug him.

  And hold his hand.

  Oh, how she wanted to do all of that again.

  When she opened her closet, she saw her new dress hanging there, the one she’d bought for her doomed date with Brandon, the dinner he’d postponed but never rescheduled. It was the first dress she’d bought specifically for a date in ages. She removed it from the closet and held it up in against her in front of the mirror. The hunter-green hue brought out the color in her eyes and highlighted her fair skin—or so the saleslady had told her. She tossed it onto the bed and went to retrieve the ironing board from the hall closet. Maybe wearing a pretty new outfit to meet a good friend at her favorite wine bar would remind her why she’d chosen to live so far away from home.

  Cassidy ran into Harper in the lobby on her way out. She was just putting on her coat as he entered the building.

  “Well, doesn’t someone look nice tonight,” he said with a grin. “You got a hot date?”

  She smiled at him. “Just meeting Danielle for a drink. But thanks for the compliment.”

  “When did you get back from California?”

  “Last night. I’m already freezing here.” She buttoned her coat and wrapped her arms around herself. “It was like seventy degrees in Palo Alto yesterday.”

  “I’m sure you’ll survive. You see, buildings have this thing called heat. Did you have fun?”

  She nodded. “More or less. We can talk about it later. Did anything exciting happen while I was gone?”

  “Actually, yes. I broke up with Vanessa.”

  Cassidy felt her eyes open wide. “You did? Why?”

  “Don’t act like you’re surprised it didn’t last.”

  “But I thought you liked her.”

  “I did at first, but then I started to see what all my friends apparently saw from the get-go.”

  Cassidy made a squeamish face. “Was I right? Gold digger?”

  He made guns with his thumbs and index fingers. “Bingo. You called it.”

  Cassidy shrugged. “I’m sorry. She was nice enough, but she just seemed a bit too…plastic for you.”

  He sighed. “I used to be better at spotting the ones who were after my bank account. In my, um, situation, you sort of learn that skill at an early age. Maybe I’m losing my edge.”

  She smiled. Harper was so modest. “I’m not a handsome banker with a trust fund to boot, so I can only imagine. But I guess it’s good that you figured it out before you got in too deep, right?”

  “True, but it still bothers me. I really thought Vanessa was different. Or maybe I just hoped she was different.”

  She put a hand on his arm. “Listen, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m going to be even later than I normally am. We’ll catch up soon, OK?” She turned to leave, then stopped and gave his arm a squeeze. “Just so you know, I’m proud of you for ending things with her. It’s not easy to walk away from romance, even when you know it’s not right.”

  He gave her a half smile. “Thanks.”

  “You’re looking quite pretty tonight.” Darlene took Cassidy’s coat and led her to the manicure table. “Do you have plans with a special someone later?”

  “Just a drink with my friend Danielle. She’s special, but she’s not my special someone.”

  “Do you have a special someone in your life?”

  “I think so, maybe.” Cassidy smiled. “I hope so.”

  “Hope is good, always good,” Darlene said in a soft voice. She began to smooth lotion over Cassidy’s fingers. “Now close your eyes and relax; let your mind just drift away.”

  Cassidy did as she was instructed, and soon her mind was floating back to the pages of her book, to all the work she’d completed that day. Should she tell Darlene she’d introduced a character based on her? Or would that be awkward because Donna, the fictional aesthetician, was actually inspired by the Darlene who Cassidy had thought owned Annabelle’s? Back when Cassidy thought Darlene was Annabelle. It was all a bit complicated, but fact or fiction, there was something about the real Darlene’s aura that always made Cassidy feel so nurtured, and she was relieved to have realized her young protagonist could benefit from a similar haven, one that could provide just the right vehicle for a critical turning point in the story.

  Cassidy tried to relax as her mind began to drift away from her book, from Annabelle’s, from New York itself.

  All the way back to California.

  “Damn, look at you.” Danielle took off her coat and sat at the bar next to Cassidy. “Do you have a hot date after this?”

  Cassidy rolled her eyes. “Just so you know, that’s the third time I’ve been asked that question since leaving my apartment. I just thought it would be fun to take my new dress out for a spin, especially on the heels of your sweatpants comment this afternoon. Do you like it?”

  “I do, very much. And for the record, you rock your sweatpants.”

  Cassidy laughed. “Thanks. You look nice too, by the way. Did you get a haircut?”

  Danielle framed her face with her hands. “I did, and thanks for noticing. So, speaking of hot dates, how did it go with Brandon?”

  Cassidy pointed to her. “Let’s talk about you first. I want to know about this trouble you alluded to. What’s up?”

  Danielle shook her head. “We’ll talk about my problem later. I want to hear all about high-school guy.”

  Cassidy lightly touched the scrape on her nose. “It wasn’t exactly…what I expected.”

  Danielle made a nervous face. “Oh, no. Not good?”

  “It was good…just complicated.”

  “Complicated? What do you mean?”

  Cassidy took a deep breath, then relayed the story of her tumultuous week in California.

  Danielle set down her wineglass. “Damn, Cassidy. That’s intense.”

  Cassidy frowned. “I know. As I said, not exactly what I expected.”

  “Is his mom going to be OK?”

  “They think so, but it’s going to be a long, slow road to recovery. Lots of physical therapy.”

  “So all that happened between you two was one kiss?”

  “Basically, yes. He kissed me a couple of other times, but only one real kiss, if that makes sense.”

  “Was it at least a good kiss?”

  Cassidy felt her insides stir at the memory. “It was unbelievable.”

  “So it made your blood rush to all the r
ight places?”

  “Danielle!”

  Danielle picked up her glass and shrugged. “Don’t act all virginal, I’m just trying to get a sense of your definition for unbelievable. How did you two leave it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, when are you going to see him again?”

  “When I go home for the holidays, I suppose.”

  “You didn’t make any specific plans?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm what? You think that’s bad?” Cassidy bit her lip.

  “I just like it when a guy makes a point of putting a next time on the calendar. It shows that he’s into it.”

  Cassidy gazed glumly at her wineglass. “He’s got a lot to deal with right now. And no matter what he may feel for me, I don’t think making plans that far out is a big priority.”

  “I know; I’m not judging, believe me. His plate is clearly more than full. I just want to make sure you’re being treated the way you deserve. Your feelings count too, you know?”

  Cassidy smiled weakly. “Thanks for always watching out for me. Now enough about me. What trouble are you in?”

  Just then Danielle’s phone rang. She glanced at the display and groaned. “I’m sorry. It’s one of my territory managers, so I can’t ignore it. Can you give me a minute?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Danielle grabbed her coat and went outside to take the call. While she was gone, Cassidy nursed her drink and glanced around the room, enjoying the chance to people watch without feeling self-conscious for being there by herself. She decided to play the character game, this time zeroing in on a distinguished older man sitting alone at the far side of the bar.

  What’s his name? Harry…Harry Winfield.

  Where’s he from? Westchester. No, Rochester.

  What does he do? He’s a judge. Retired judge.

  What makes him angry? When preppy young lawyers disrespected him in court. Arrogant punks.

  Who or what makes him laugh? In his eyes no one will ever be as funny as Johnny Carson. And he loves a good riddle.

 

‹ Prev