Cassidy gave her a sympathetic nod. “I’m sorry.”
Molly kept tapping the table. “Since then I’ve been so sad. So, so sad. My friends keep telling me to snap out of it and forget about him, and I know I should, but I just…can’t. I feel so stupid for thinking he could be the one after such a short time, but I really did. I really…did.” Her eyes were watery now, the sadness radiating out of them.
She was basically a stranger, but Cassidy felt for her.
In a way she was her.
Cassidy spoke softly. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been there.”
I am there.
Molly smiled and wiped a few tears away with the back of her hand and sniffled. “Thanks. I know I’m sharing way too much, and you probably think I’m a nut job for telling you all this, but I wanted to let you know that your books have given me hope that maybe the right guy for me is still out there somewhere.”
“I bet he is,” Cassidy said.
I hope the same thing for myself.
“I sure hope so.” Molly forced another smile. “Anyhow, I wanted to thank you for writing the stories you do. Please keep at it, because we all need to believe.”
“We all need to believe what?” a male voice asked.
They both turned to see Harper standing next to the booth.
Cassidy gracefully changed the subject. “Harper Gold, this is Molly Benson. She and I met on a plane ride to San Francisco.”
Harper bowed his head. “It’s a pleasure, Molly.” Then he looked at Cassidy and gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “Listen, I hate to eat and run before dessert, but duty calls. I’ve already paid the bill if you two want to stick around.”
Molly quickly stood up and exited the booth, wiping a tear from her eye. “That’s OK, I was just leaving anyway.”
Cassidy stood up too and gave her a hug. “Hang in there,” she whispered into her ear.
Molly hugged her back. “Thank you for listening. Really, thank you.” She turned and hurried out of the restaurant, clearly a bit embarrassed.
“What was that all about?” Harper asked when Molly was out of earshot.
Cassidy smiled. “Girl talk.”
It had begun snowing during lunch, so Cassidy rushed home to avoid getting too wet. She was halfway there when she heard a beeping inside her purse. As she walked she reached inside her purse to check her phone.
BUY MARSHMALLOWS!
She clicked dismiss, then turned around and headed in the opposite direction, toward CVS. She could handle being out of a lot of things during snowy weather, but not marshmallows.
She moved quickly yet gingerly along the sidewalk, which was now covered in a fresh layer of powder. She’d nearly reached the CVS entrance when she heard the tiny yap of what had to be an equally tiny dog. She looked to her left and spotted a small white poodle in the arms of a diminutive woman huddled under the awning of a restaurant. She was wearing what looked like a very expensive fur coat, one that wouldn’t take well to snow.
Cassidy’s eyes moved from the woman’s coat to her face.
It was Annabelle Polanski.
Should she say hello?
Maybe not.
She was about to turn and duck into CVS when Annabelle made eye contact and smiled.
“Hello,” she said curtly.
Cassidy smiled back. “Hi.”
“You’re Ms. Lane, right? You’ve been to my salon a few times, Annabelle’s? I’m Annabelle Polanksi.”
“Yes, my name’s Cassidy. I love your place.”
She knows my name? Why is she being so nice?
“Thank you. I must say I love it too.” Annabelle peered out at the street, then smoothed a hand over the miniature dog. “I hate getting caught in the snow, and poor Muffin here gets so scared. We’re just waiting for my driver to come pick us up.”
Cassidy nodded toward the entrance next door. “I’m on my way home too. I was just running into CVS to pick up a few…staples.” She realized most people wouldn’t view marshmallows as a staple, but to each her own.
Annabelle smiled again and shooed her away. “Go on then, I don’t want to hold you up. It’s only going to come down harder. I hope to see you in the salon again soon.”
“Thanks.” Cassidy turned to go, then stopped and brushed a few snowflakes out of her hair. “Do you mind if I ask what happened to Darlene?”
Annabelle’s eyes went a bit dark. “Darlene?”
“Yes, she always did my manicures. Do you know where she went?”
Annabelle kept petting Muffin but didn’t answer.
“Mrs. Polanksi?” Cassidy said.
“Please, call me Annabelle. And Darlene…resigned.”
“What? But why? She seemed so happy there.”
She sighed. “If you must know, it was that awful husband of hers.”
Cassidy felt her eyes get big. Awful husband? “What happened?”
Annabelle nodded and looked down the street for her driver. “He came into the shop…again…and caused a bit of a scene…again, griping as always about her spending too much time away from home, and then they left. She called the next morning and said she wasn’t coming back.”
Cassidy put a hand on her heart. “Is she OK?”
Annabelle shrugged. “I hope so. She’s a nice woman, but she didn’t choose a nice husband. Well, there’s my car, so I’m off now.” She darted toward the street. “I hope to see you at the salon soon. Stay warm now.”
“Bye.” Cassidy stood there for a moment, in a bit of a daze, as she watched Annabelle climb inside a large black town car, which quickly disappeared into the traffic. The snow was coming down harder now, swirling under the awning where Cassidy was standing, but she didn’t move.
Instead she tried to process what she’d just learned.
Darlene’s life wasn’t anything like she’d pictured it to be.
Her high-school-sweetheart husband, the kind and loving father of her children.
Her move to Florida to open her own salon.
Her happily ever after.
None of it was true.
It was all just Cassidy’s imagination.
Darlene had always made her feel nurtured, but she had never opened up about her personal life. Had she told Cassidy anything at all? Looking back, Cassidy wasn’t sure she ever had. Cassidy had painted a picture of Darlene’s home life that was clearly far from reality, and now a version of that picture was sprinkled among the pages of her new manuscript in the form of Donna, one of her favorite characters.
A small character, but an important one.
A character whose storybook marriage would live forever in Cassidy’s imagination, as well as those of her readers.
Did that make it real on some level?
She’d filled in the blanks with Darlene and had been dead wrong.
Had she done the same thing with Brandon? Expected him to be something he wasn’t?
She blinked.
Fiction isn’t real.
Wishful thinking doesn’t make it true.
After a few moments, she dusted off the thin layer of snow now covering her like powdered sugar, turned, and entered the store.
When Cassidy had made it back to her warm and dry apartment, she brewed a pot of coffee, changed into her favorite sweatpants, pulled her hair up into a bun, and sat down at her desk with a full bag of marshmallows.
Then she clicked to open a new Word document.
She was still trying to wrap her head around what she’d just learned about Darlene, but her mind also kept returning to the conversation she’d had earlier with Molly Benson.
One thing in particular that Molly had said to her jumped out.
Please keep doing what you’re doing. We all need to believe.
Cassidy stared at the
screen for a few moments, then glanced at the sticky note she’d pasted on a corner of her desk, the idea she’d jotted down after watching the video at Nigel’s office.
Hmm.
I need to believe too.
A new story was talking to her. And it was time to listen.
She opened the bag, popped a marshmallow into her mouth, and began to type.
Chapter Twenty-Six
one month later
CASSIDY BOARDED THE ten o’clock train, which had arrived right on schedule and was barely half-full. She smiled at the ease of it all. After nearly a decade of living in New York City, her tolerance for freeway traffic had effectively disappeared, so she’d opted for Caltrain over her mom’s car for the thirty-five-mile trip from Palo Alto to San Francisco.
She settled into a comfortable window seat, and within moments the train pulled out of the station. While reviewing her notes, she occasionally glanced out the window as they wound their way up the tree-lined Peninsula. The experience could not have been more different from the New York subway, which bustled even in off-peak hours. As she did every time she visited home, she wondered what her life would be like if she lived here again. Would the calm be a welcome change? Or would she eventually become bored and crave the energy of the big city? Though she’d had the same conversation with herself countless times, she still didn’t know the answer.
She smiled as she realized that she had the best of both worlds. For now, at least, she still liked it that way.
Her thoughts turned to the keynote speech ahead. This time she was determined to open up more to the audience, which meant she’d soon be sharing her personal story of repeated failure with nearly a thousand women.
She hoped to inspire them to follow their dreams, as she had.
To stand up in the face of rejection and keep trying, as she had.
To keep trying.
And trying.
She glanced out the train window.
Please don’t choke.
“Thank you so much for being so honest. It makes all the difference to know you had to work at it too. You’ve really inspired me to follow my dream of opening my own flower store.”
“You’re very welcome.” Cassidy smiled and peeked over the woman’s shoulder as she handed her a signed copy of Hanover Square. The line of enthusiastic conference attendees waiting patiently to speak to Cassidy had snaked down the hall at one point, and she was exhausted.
But also exhilarated.
She’d done it this time.
While she’d wanted to open up more than she had at her first keynote, she hadn’t expected to share quite so many of her own shortcomings. This was the first time she’d divulged such intimate, wrenching details about her professional insecurities in a public forum, and the warm reaction she’d received had touched her deeply, in a way she hadn’t expected.
Being forthcoming about her failures wasn’t such a scary thing after all.
When the line had finally cleared, she smiled to herself. I need to speak at events like this more often.
Cassidy was collecting her things to leave when her phone beeped on the table in front of her. It was a text from Harper.
CALL ME IMMEDIATELY. AS IN NOW.
She did as instructed, wondering what the big news could possibly be. She hadn’t talked to him in nearly a week.
He answered on the first ring. “I’m not the father.”
“What?”
“I’m not the father. The baby’s not mine.”
Cassidy gasped. “Oh my God.”
“Can you believe it? After all that?”
“I’m stunned.”
“Join the club.”
“What happened?”
“Vanessa took a paternity test.”
There was no one within thirty feet of her, but Cassidy lowered her voice to a whisper anyway. “Why?”
“We were out to dinner the other night, and as we were leaving, we bumped into a couple of women she knows. One of them, who had clearly been drinking, made a joke about wondering who the father was. When Vanessa didn’t laugh, I knew something wasn’t right. When we got home I pressed her about it, and it turns out I wasn’t the only guy she was sleeping with when she got pregnant.”
“Wow.”
“Yep. So I insisted on a paternity test just to be sure, and we just got the results today. Negative.”
Cassidy slowly shook her head. “So you’re…off the hook? I know that sounds horrible.”
“It’s not horrible. It’s true. She was playing me, and she knew it.”
Cassidy remembered how Harper had used the phrase dodged a bullet after her skin-cancer scare. Now he’d dodged one of his own. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t quite trust her,” she said.
“You and everyone else. So when are you coming back to New York? We have to celebrate my newfound bachelorhood. Not to mention my business school essays. I want to get that ball rolling again so I can have my applications in by March.”
“I’ll be back early Friday evening. Maybe dinner?”
“Perfect.”
“Cool, it’s a date. I’ll text you when I land.” She hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment, thinking once again how quickly life can change.
“You have a date on Friday?”
The sound of a male voice startled her.
His voice.
No way.
It can’t be.
She looked up and saw Brandon standing there.
He was holding a bouquet of pink tulips.
“What are you doing here?”
He handed her the flowers. “I came to hear you speak. You were really, really good. I was impressed.”
She looked at the arrangement, then up at him. “But…how did you know I was here?” They hadn’t had any contact in weeks. Had he called her parents? Or Patti?
“I checked your website.”
“Oh.” Suddenly she was back at Diablo Royale in the West Village, when he’d told her he’d read her bio. What was going on? Had he really come all the way up to the city…for her?
“Thanks for the tulips, Brandon. They’re beautiful.”
“You’re welcome.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, do you think we could talk somewhere private?”
She pointed down the hall. “There’s a bar next to the lobby. Want to get some coffee?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Let me just get my things, OK?”
He waited in the hallway as she ducked into the speakers’ lounge to pick up her coat. She willed her nervous system to keep calm, but it was futile. She was now more anxious than she’d been during her keynote.
Why is he here?
What does he want?
She wiped her palms on a napkin, hoping they weren’t too sweaty.
She took a deep breath, then stepped out into the hallway and forced a smile. “OK, I’m ready.”
As they walked toward the bar in silence, Cassidy wondered if it would be too early to order a real drink. She could certainly use one. They chose a high table in a far corner near the windows.
“What can I get you?” Brandon gestured toward the bar as she climbed onto a stool and set the bouquet of flowers on the table.
“I’ll have a glass of wine. What the hell, right?” She gave him an awkward smile.
“Sauvignon blanc?”
“You remember?” She’d ordered sauvignon blanc on their one official dinner date.
He smiled. “I remember. I think I’ll have the same.”
Her mind began to race as he walked over to the bar.
Is this really happening?
Is this what I think it is?
After all this time?
Has he really come around?
Brandon returned with two
glasses of wine, then took a seat next to her.
“Congratulations again on an excellent keynote.” He lifted his glass for a toast. “You were quite an inspiration up there.”
She tapped her glass against his. “Thank you. I think you might have been the only male member of the audience.”
“Nah, I saw a few male waiters milling around.”
She smiled. “Ah, yes, of course.”
“So you have a date on Friday?” he asked.
She blushed and looked at the table, startled at the quick change of topic. “Oh, no. That’s just my friend Harper.”
“I doubt that.”
She regained eye contact with him. “It’s a long story, but trust me, he’s just a friend. So how’s your mom doing?”
He shrugged. “She’s OK; stable but not great. The good news is that we finally got her settled into an excellent facility, and they’re taking really good care of her. That’s made my life a lot easier.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
He set down his glass. “Listen, Cassidy, I didn’t come here to talk about my mom. I came to apologize to you.”
“Apologize? Why?”
“For ending things the way I did. I should have called you instead of texting.”
She felt a pang of humiliation at the memory of how he’d broken things off. “Oh, that’s OK.”
“No, it wasn’t OK. I also want to apologize for basically disappearing on you, especially after I made you feel bad for not wanting to be friends with me. I know that wasn’t fair to you either. From the moment we started talking, you were nothing but kind to me, and you deserved better than that.”
She took a sip of her wine, not sure how to respond.
He continued. “It’s just that I got hit by a firestorm. I tried to manage it all, but I wasn’t doing a very good job, so I had to retreat and focus on my family. I know I hurt you because of that, and I’m truly sorry.”
She smiled, albeit awkwardly, and interlaced her hands on the table. “It’s OK. I understood where you were coming from.” That wasn’t exactly true, but she didn’t want him to know how crushed she’d been, or how much she’d agonized over what she might have done wrong, over what she should have done differently.
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