by Emma Nichols
Her hand brushed his leg in a fake caress, and her lips curled into a plastic smile. “I just want to make this night special,” she said, her eyes holding the true meaning of the word special.
It meant ‘forget about the cost of the dress and you’ll get birthday–type of sex tonight’. He could live with that, but just how much had she spent on this weekend’s outfits?
It was probably a hefty amount. He knew her need to impress all the people she hadn’t bothered to keep up with since graduating. He just didn’t understand it. Great parking spot and frugal spending be damned. A grand entrance was much more important.
Her hand still lay on his thigh. It remained a little longer than normal when she wanted her way, and she knew how to play him. The sooner they got the night over with, the better.
He drove down another row of cars. “I’m not finding any spot to…”
“Drop me off at the front door,” she said, removing her hand and cutting him off. “Then you can park the car.”
“Fine. I’ll drop you off at the main entrance.” He rounded the corner and took her to the rounded drive where the valets stood.
“I’ll see you inside.” She got out of the car and closed the door. She then walked determined and sure into the building, never looking back—and there went any chance of him walking in with her on his arm and impressing the old gang.
His shoulders slumped, and he felt a loss. Maybe he did understand the need for making a grand entrance. He was more like Ashley then he wanted to admit.
And that was definitely something to work on.
After several minutes, he found a parking spot and walked into the Leaning Pine. A sign for Linwood High School class reunion sat just inside the main entrance with the name and an arrow pointing to a private party room.
He followed the signs, and the music, and entered the room. No fan fair. No special entrance. No adoring fans. No grand entrance.
He walked in without notice. Just like in high school, but with one major difference. Linwood didn’t have a bar.
“Scotch. Neat.” He placed a twenty on the bar and scanned the room.
Ashley stood across the room, looking stellar in the new dress. He eyed her from head to toe, pride swelling inside of him. Whatever the outfit had cost, it was worth the price. He grinned from ear–to–ear. Having a trophy like her on his arm would make him the envy of every man in the place.
Ashley talked with another woman and let out a fit of laughter. Greg would have said that the woman made a witty comment, but he recognized Ashley’s fake cackle. It held just a touch of nervousness mixed with self–doubt. The fake smile she wore was a telltale sign that she wanted to impress the woman she was having a discussion with, but, based upon the way she gulped her drink, she was failing at it.
The woman looked familiar, and he racked his brain trying to place who she was. She had attended their high school, but with nearly 150 graduating seniors in their class, it proved hard to remember everyone.
He gathered his change from the bartender and then studied the green–eyed beauty, only to confirm what he suspected. She was Sasha Monroe. She had performed in most of the school plays and musicals and had become a somewhat famous actress.
At least, that was the rumor. He hadn’t bothered to keep up, but evidently, Ashley had.
He let out a chuckle. Sasha looked trapped and eager to escape from Ashley’s clutches. He would have considered helping Sasha out, but the two of them had never been friends. She was too busy making most of the high school boys feel inferior to Jordan Mitchell, the captain of the football team—the one person she had wanted to date throughout all of high school. Of course, he was already dating Mia Franco, the head cheerleader.
God. Five minutes into the reunion and he was already caught up in the drama of yesteryear.
“Oh my gosh! Greg?”
Greg turned around and was face–to–face with a tall blond man. Even though he looked familiar, Greg had to read his name tag to know for sure who the man was.
“Grady Cox? Is that really you?”
Grady leaned in to give Greg a half–hearted–manly hug. It felt odd at first, but Greg figured this would be the first of many hugs for the evening. “It’s been a long time.”
He studied his old friend. Many people peak in high school, but that wasn’t the case for Grady, who was always teased by his name back in the day. The man looked better now than ten years ago when he was a tall, lanky kid who sat at the nerd table in the cafeteria. He had filled out and was a handsome man with a square jaw. “How’ve you been?”
“I can’t complain.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “I’m a newspaper editor in Maryland.” Handing Greg his card, he added, “I heard you were back in town for good.”
Greg stared at the business card. Leave it up to a man who worked in the print industry to carry such an outdated form of connecting with others. Greg had planned to capture people’s contact info on his phone, but he stuffed the card into his back pocket.
“I moved back a while ago. How’s the newspaper business these days? Must be tough with all the electronic news out there.”
“You’d be surprised,” Grady said. “We do have electronic newspapers and even some electronic magazines, but the paper industry isn’t as dead as everyone thinks it is.”
Grady had been in Greg’s homeroom and several other classes. A good study buddy, good helpful friend, and overall good guy. The type of person who got tortured a lot for being smart, but hit upon for any tutoring whenever someone needed it. “I’m glad to hear that you’re doing well. You deserve it.”
Grady raised a bill and caught the bar tender’s attention. “Beer, whatever you have in a bottle is fine.” He then returned his attention to Greg. “What are you doing these days?”
“I’m the Northeast Director of Research at Lermer Industries,” he said, his voice filled with pride. “I’m heading up a new project and…” he noticed Grady’s gaze traveling the room as he continued to explain his job. “It’s more exciting that what how it sounds.”
“Same with the newspaper biz,” Grady said, smiling. “Most people think I’m correcting the articles written by the Lois Lanes of the world. There is so much more to the newspaper industry than that. I mean, through advertising alone, the paper makes quite a bit of money, and the marketing efforts are state of the art.”
Advertising? Greg tilted his head and asked, “Is your marking all print advertising?”
“Mostly.” Grady took a swig of his beer. “We do run ads in our electronic publications.”
Greg stood taller. “Any of them local ads?”
“Some. Why?”
Opportunity knocked on the door, and Kacie was nowhere in sight. “My friend Kacie is looking for local advertising, and she might be interested in talking to you if you know of any local editors.” He glanced around. “She said she probably wouldn’t show up tonight though.”
“Kacie Preston?”
“You remember her?”
He held up his hand to about the same height Kacie was. “Really adorable, sandy brown hair,” he gestured with his hand, “hair always up in a ponytail or bun?”
“That’s her.”
“Weren’t you two an item throughout all of high school?”
Greg’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, we were just friends.”
“Really? I thought for sure you two were dating.” He shook his head. “The two of you were so good together, I just assumed.”
He had definitely spent a lot of time with Kacie during those four years, and now, looking back, he had been totally blind. She was always at his side, helping him with homework, working with him at the local grocery store after school, and even attending every basketball game to cheer him on. Not to mention all the times he stood by her when her mother was sick with cancer.
They had been good together.
But now, she was engaged.
And he was a divorced man whose ex–wife had a
laundry list of reasons why he was a terrible husband.
Not that he hadn’t tried his hardest to please the woman.
Ashley walked to the bar, so Greg caught her by the arm and pulled her close, his arm snaking around her slender waist. He wasn’t a complete loser. He had a hot woman in his life today. “Honey, do you remember Grady.”
She stared blankly at Grady’s face and then read his name tag. “So nice to see you again,” she said, holding out her hand while her eyes scanned the room. Her tone of voice told Greg that she had no idea who Grady was, and her stiff body told him that she was upset and didn’t want to be bothered.
“I think that’s Mia.” She finished shaking Grady’s hand and waved to the ex–head cheerleader. She left without saying goodbye, and Greg felt a prickly feeling on the back of his neck. She had made him look like a fool.
“Was that Ashley…?” His voice trailed off, and his face pinched trying to remember her last name.
“Ashley Lewis.” Greg stood taller and tried to salvage his pride. “I’ve been dating her for several months.”
Grady’s lips pursed in a judgmental way. “You and Ashley?” He took another sip of beer. “I really never saw you with someone like her.”
Hours had passed. The music still played, but the bar had shut down. Greg had been ignored by Ashley long enough and was ready to leave.
“There you are,” Ashley said, walking up to the table where he sat. “Where have you been?”
“Here. Alone.” He didn’t know what else to say. She had managed to spend time with everyone else except for him. What was the point of showing off a beautiful babe if she treated you like a piece of furniture?
“You’ve been drinking.” Her expression became dismissive. “Everyone important is gone. Besides, there’ll be plenty of time tomorrow to talk.”
He glanced up and noted that most people had left, the ‘important’ ones as well as everyone else. She was probably always a snob, but the reunion brought it out more. Her behavior wasn’t attractive.
“I’ll drive us home tonight.”
He stood and took a deep breath, smelling the alcohol. “Thanks.”
She hooked her arm in the crux of his. “In case you’re curious, my friend Lily and I have worked everything out.”
“Worked what out?” He hadn’t talked to Ashley in well over an hour, Kacie hadn’t shown up, and all he wanted to do was to go home. He didn’t even know who Lily was.
Her frown deepened. “The king of beasts idea, of course.”
They walked out of the room and down the hallway to the front entrance of the Leaning Pine. “What are you talking about?”
“God, you never listen.” She rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”
His wife always said he didn’t listen. Maybe it was true, not that he wanted to admit she was right about anything. “No. Tell me. I’m really interested.”
“It’s nothing.” She held him tighter as they made their way out the door and to the parking lot. “Tomorrow there is a barbeque at the lake.” Her eyes lit up from the moonlight. “Should be a lot of fun. Remember all the good times down there?”
He really didn’t. The Straights, where the popular kids hung out, wasn’t his old haunt. Ashley may have been on the outskirts of acceptance by the “in” kids at school, but he certainly wasn’t. He and his friends usually hung out at the bowling alley or the mall.
“The barbeque is from 11am to 4pm tomorrow.”
That time sounded familiar. Familiar in an ‘I’m already booked’ sort of way. “Is tomorrow Saturday?”
“Yes.”
He mentally went through his day planner and came up with the answer. “We can’t go.”
“What?”
“My daughter’s dance recital is tomorrow afternoon. I told her we’d be there.”
“I can’t miss the barbeque.” She looked around at the cars in the lot. “Where the hell did you park?”
He pointed down a row of cars. “It’s important to me that you go to the recital with me. We already told my daughter we’d go, and we don’t want to disappoint her.”
“It’s just a dance. She’ll have more.”
He had made an effort to attend every school function, every day camp, and every recital since the divorce—attempted to attend, not that he actually made it to them. Goodness knows he had lost too much with his children already and didn’t want to miss out on yet another event. “I’d like for you to go with me to see my daughter dance.”
She held up her phone. “Just record it. I can watch it later.”
“It’s not the same.”
She got him into the car. Before she closed the door, she managed to say, “Let’s just go home. I have a terrible headache and just want to get some sleep.”
7
Saturday night arrived faster than Kacie had expected. She had kept her vet clinic open until 11am but then had to run errands all over town to get ready for tonight.
It was almost not enough time.
She closed her car door and walked to the entrance of the Hilton, alone. Braiden should have been here to take her to the dance. He had to work, but anger still built up inside of her. The reunion was just one more disappointment for her.
And there had been quite a few disappointments lately.
Walking into the hotel unescorted reminder her of all the dances at high school where she had entered the gym alone. Even when she had driven to events with Greg, she had still been alone.
He had never seen her as anything but the geeky girl next door. The kid with all the chemistry answers who could help him study. Did he even know how much she detested basketball?
No. She had kept everything in, not telling him her feelings. She had been a wallflower never really fitting in anywhere.
But today, she didn't need to sit at the popular girls’ table, have the jocks like her, or fear going down the hallways where the potheads sold weed. There was no locker with her lock on it anymore.
She was a successful veterinarian. Even if her business wasn’t thriving and she was still single and childless, she still had much in her life to be proud of.
She strutted into the grand hotel, her high heels clicking against the hard marble. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure where to go, but then saw a sign. A green and gold banner with a royal lion and the name Linwood High caught her attention. Beside it stood a navy and gray banner with a cougar and the name of their rival high school, St. Martin’s Academy.
The private boarding school’s choice of venue didn’t surprise her. The Hilton was one of the nicest hotels in town. Rival school or not, there were only so many weekends in the summer to choose from to hold a reunion.
Derrick stood near her high school’s banner, looking like a million dollars. She had seen him just a few hours ago in his vet clinic smock and blue jeans. Now, his expensive suit fit perfectly, and the man cleaned up so well that a surge of pride shot through her. He was her date for the reunion. Heads would turn and take notice.
Derrick's eyes lit up when he saw her. “Damn, girl.”
A smile cut across her face. That was all she needed to hear. “You look amazing yourself.”
“I’m glad you told me the name of your high school. Looks like there are two reunions going on.”
“St. Martin’s Academy is a private boarding school and our rival.” They walked into the Linwood reunion ballroom and to the table with the name tags.
“High school. No matter which one you attend, they all look the same.” Derrick put on his name tag, the one that had Braiden's name on it with a big red guest written across the bottom. “My reunion was last year, but I didn’t go.”
“Why not?”
He gave her an are–you–kidding–me look. “My straight–laced school would freak out if I brought a date. I’d probably get kicked out before hitting the dance floor.”
She knew Derrick had not yet embraced his lifestyle until going to college. He had been from a ritzy neighborhood, and they wouldn
’t have accepted him ten years ago. But things had changed since then. There was more acceptance these days.
“Lockers, classrooms, and hallways. I guess they do all look the same, and one reunion is the same as the next,” Kacie said trying to support him.
She didn't recognize the two people at the table handing out name tags. They appeared young and were probably students—most likely volunteering for honor society or some other credit. She had done the same at that age, so it'd look good on her college applications.
“Everyone seems to be in the ballroom.” She glanced down the hallway to where all the colorful signs—all in their school colors—indicated the event would be. Where everyone she’d graduated with would be.
Including Greg.
Handsome neighbor and best friend, Greg.
Years had passed since she had seen him, but time had treated him well. He had a brawnier build than in high school, with muscles to spare. Apparently, he worked out regularly, probably taking Skipper on many hikes.
Hearing the rhythmic tune of what she thought might be a slow dance coming from the ballroom, she thought back to Greg's tall frame and muscular arms. Her lips curled into a smile as she thought about dancing with him, huddled up next to his chest and feeling his arms around her.
He had looked gorgeous in his T–shirt and shorts last week, but tonight, he'd probably be dressed in a suit. Perhaps a gray suit with a power tie, wearing a masculine cologne that could draw any woman in and promise to consume them whole.
Butterflies in her stomach threatened to fly up and out of her mouth. What was she doing? Fantasizing about a man who was currently dating one of the bitchiest girls from their graduating class?
She was happy with Braiden. The two of them shared a mature relationship filled with mutual respect and understanding.
“You ready to go in?” Derrick asked.
“Sure.” She put on her name tag that sported her maiden name. It acted as proof that she’d never gotten to walk down the aisle and say “I do.” She wasn't someone's wife. She wasn't anyone’s mother. She was just someone who had remained stagnate since high school, most likely peaking the day she graduated.