Fifteen Weekends

by Christy Pastore

  Emily shot Ethan a playful smirk of her own then pulled up her phone and checked in to the bar at the airport. Ethan saw Emily with her phone and gave her a half smile. “I know what you’re thinking Ethan. I refuse to let one sociopath bully me into giving up on social media.”

  “Bully you? You almost fucking died, Emily.” He admonished.

  “What are the chances of getting stalked again? I would say not likely,” she scoffed.

  Leaning against the wall, Amanda stared out the window of Vince’s New York apartment. Watching the multi-colored leaves scatter across the sidewalk, she clutched her stomach then took a sip of her tea. The rain began to fall as she became lost in her thoughts. Amanda’s mind replayed the events of last few months. The emptiness Amanda felt was filled by Vince’s love and bubbled over with Alex’s. She hadn’t spoken to Alex in three weeks, she couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone or even be near him. The feelings she had for Alex were too strong and laced with complications. Her heart leapt into her throat as she read the message on her phone: AMANDA, I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU. I NEED YOU. I MISS YOU. WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME? Amanda let out a deep sigh and began to cry. Her stomach was in knots, and her emotions were all over the place. She was wrecked with guilt and confusion.

  Emily finished the last sip of her chardonnay and told Ethan she needed to use the ladies room before they boarded their flight.

  “Okay, I’ll pay for the drinks and meet you at the gate,” Ethan said kissing her on the cheek.

  Emily flung her purse over her forearm and wheeled her carryon out of the restaurant towards the bathrooms. Handing the bartender his credit card, he never took his eyes off Emily as she exited the bar area. Ethan had made a point to keep a careful watch on Emily these days after what happened. He could not bear the thought of anything happening to her again. He knew it was silly and his fears would go away in time, but for now better safe than sorry.

  “What are you doing here after work on a Friday night all by yourself?” Morgan Allen inquired as she shifted in her seat to face the handsome man seated at the bar. She was wearing a low-cut silk blouse and flirty micro-mini hoping her exposed fair skin would catch his eye.

  “I just got in from Chicago, and I needed a drink. The flight I was on was a little nerve wracking, especially flying over the Lake Michigan.”

  “Oh? No kidding. I used to live in Michigan. I’m from Bay City, but I spent the last few years in Grand Rapids. I just moved to Brooklyn a few weeks ago.”

  “Grand Rapids is nice. I have been there a few times. I was there just a few weeks ago to see a friend,” he said before taking a sip of his beer. His greyish-blue eyes entranced Morgan.

  Emily emerged from the ladies room and began walking towards the gate. There were a lot of people in the airport that day. Her mind wandered as she walked through the crowd. She checked her purse for her boarding pass, but it wasn’t there. Oh shoot! Did I leave it in the bathroom? She stopped dead in her tracks and started to frantically search her purse. After a brief moment of fear, relief washed over her as she remembered that Ethan had it. She was so forgetful lately, but the doctors said that her memory would return to normal in time. Normal. Emily laughed to herself. She felt like a damaged freak, not being able to recall the simplest things in her daily life.

  She started down the terminal again, and that is when she saw him—he was sitting at the Irish Pub. Emily blinked and gasped. Her eyes were not deceiving her—it was Craig Walker. She tried to move but couldn’t. At that moment, Craig had spotted her standing there looking at him. Her pulse was racing, and she stood motionless as people hurriedly passed by her. She knew she was in the way, but she didn’t care, he was more handsome than she ever remembered. He looked almost the same, only more sophisticated, just like Ashleigh described from her encounter at Heathrow.

  Sitting at the airport bar, he was wearing a maroon and navy striped button down paired with a paisley print maroon tie and navy pants. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and his semi-curly hair was subtly spikey. He looked hot. How was it possible for someone to be this gorgeous?

  The buzzing of her phone caused Emily to momentarily take her eyes off Craig. It was a text from Ethan: OUR FLIGHT IS BOARDING NOW. SEE YOU IN A BIT. I HAVE YOUR BOARDING PASS.

  Craig motioned to the bartender and said something as he stood up. He took a sip of his Miller Lite and then walked towards Emily, never taking his eyes off her.

  “Emmy,” he said softly.

  The sound of Craig’s voice melted over her, Emily’s bottom lip quivered. He closed the space between them; she was trembling. Emily reached up and brushed her fingertips across his cheek. When she felt his skin, Emily’s knees buckled beneath her causing her to draw her hand back briskly. It was really him. Craig Bennett Walker was definitely alive. After the initial shock wore off, Emily felt hot tears prick her eyes.

  “Craig,” her breath hitched. “I can’t believe you’re standing here… in front of me.”

  Craig’s steely blue eyes washed over her, the pad of his thumb grazed her cheek wiping away the single tear that fell.

  “It’s me Emmy, I’ve missed you.” His voice was shaky.

  “I…I want to talk to you, but my flight to London is boarding.”

  Filled with tremendous waves of emotion, Emily dug in her purse frantically for her business cards. The tears were blinding her, and Emily thought she might crumble into a million pieces at the thundering beat of her heart inside her body.

  The loudspeaker announced final boarding for her flight.

  “Emmy, it’s okay,” Craig said reassuringly as he pressed his hand over hers. “Don’t miss your flight. Your friend, Ashleigh has my number.”

  Emily blanched. Her wet eyes blinked at him spraying tiny droplets down her reddened cheeks. How does Ashleigh have Craig’s number?

  “Why are you peeling the label off your beer bottle?” Morgan asked as she moved a seat closer to him.

  “It’s just something I do when I want to remember a special moment in my life,” he said. The icy blue hue in his eyes was completely dazzling. Morgan eagerly hoped the moment he was talking about was meeting her, and that he was going to jot down his number for her to call him on the back of that label.

  “I’m Morgan by the way, Morgan Allen.” She offered a flirtatious smile again while reaching her hand out to greet him, hoping he would take notice.

  He did not. It was obvious she was desperately seeking attention, but he was polite to Morgan despite her rather anticipated behavior. Raking his eyes over her, he took note of her appearance. Unkempt was an understatement, slightly sloppy was too kind, disheveled was a better description with a chipped manicure and shade of lipstick that was too bright for her pale complexion. Morgan’s green blouse had a stain on the right side near the third button. The tight black skirt she was wearing hugged her thighs, squeezing them, showing off every plump ripple. Her skin was oily, and her dishwater blonde hair was badly in need of a trim. The stench of her cheap dime store perfume was so overwhelming he figured she must have spritzed half the bottle on her.

  “Nice to meet you, Morgan. I’m Craig Walker.”

  “So, Craig Walker, what brought on this special moment?”

  “Well, if you must know, I just saw a woman I’ve loved for a long time, and I guess you could say that we re-connected.” He took a sip of his beer. “Hey, you might know her, she lives in Grand Rapids—Emily Greene.”

  Morgan was overcome with shock. She felt like she just took a punch to the gut. Of course it was, Emily Greene. Of all the men in all the airport bars he had to walk into mine. What should I do with this bit of information?

  The air was crisp, but a chilly fall afternoon couldn’t stop Ashleigh and Liam from enjoying their tea on the terrace. Pulling her knees to her chest she wrapped the ca
shmere blanket around her tightly and pulled her chunky knit, ivory sweater down over her hands.

  “Looks like it’s going to rain again,” Ashleigh remarked while looking towards the Thames. The fog was beginning to roll in, and in the distance she could see the misty clouds enveloping the Tower of London.

  “Don’t worry love, you’ll get used to the rain,” he said giving her a sly smile.

  Looking at the time on her phone, she noted that Emily and Ethan’s flight would be arriving in a few short hours prompting her to ask, “Liam, did you arrange a car for Emily and Ethan’s arrival?”

  “Yes, I sure did,” he hummed.

  Liam’s phone buzzed. Looking up from his newspaper he said, “Sorry Darling, this is work. I must take it.” Kissing Ashleigh on the cheek he walked into the living room and answered his phone.

  As Ashleigh gazed out over the city skyline she sat back and took a sip of tea. She was feeling incredibly happy. Her life was practically perfect at the moment. Her penthouse sold quickly and the couple that purchased it wanted all of her furniture, too. That couple was Amanda and Vince. They wanted a bigger place for whatever reason, but Ashleigh couldn’t part with her beloved bed. That piece of furniture is in a safe storage space for now.

  Her boss was very excited about her moving to London because it would save him on travel expenses. She received a raise for all of her hard work, and her article about the Le Petit Hotel & Café received three times the hits of any other piece, bringing in all kinds of advertisers from Montreal. Thanks Xavier. That was her little secret, and she intended to keep it that way. She wasn’t even sure she would tell Emily.

  Emily was doing well. The doctors seemed hopeful that her memory would return to normal very soon. She had yet to tell Emily about Craig coming to the hospital to visit her, but she knew she couldn’t wait much longer. Most importantly, in December, Ashleigh and Liam would become husband and wife.

  Liam finished his call and returned to the terrace. He looked to be anxious, or maybe he was distressed. She was still trying to read his body language.

  “Everything okay, Liam?”

  “Ashleigh, darling, I have some news.” He was pacing briskly around the terrace and scratching the back of his head.

  Oh this does not sound good.

  Gripping the hemline of her sweater tightly, she asked softly, “What’s the news, Liam?”

  Liam’s cheeks were flushed, and his body was stiff, “Wanderlust has been sold to a publishing house in New York City. They want me to move to Manhattan and serve as Editor during the transition period. After six months, I will settle into my new role as Vice President of Publishing.”

  Liam’s jaw clenched. Every muscle in Ashleigh’s body tensed as his words twisted recklessly inside her. The cashmere blanket fell to the chair as she stood up to face Liam. Finally, she was able to form the words.

  “When do you, I mean we, have to move?” She stood there shivering slightly as the crisp air cut through the cotton fabric of her black leggings sending a chill up her back.

  “In three weeks,” Liam replied placing both hands on her arms while rubbing them gently.

  The rain began to come down lightly. They quickly gathered their things and bolted inside. Ashleigh stood in silence scanning the London skyline. Liam carried the teapot and cups to the sink. From the kitchen he watched his fiancé stare blankly out the window. Liam ran his hand over the curve of his jaw as he approached Ashleigh from the kitchen.

  “New York City,” she muttered softly.

  He reached over and took Ashleigh’s hand in his as they stood in front of the sliding glass doors of his London apartment, their London apartment, watching the rain fall gently on the terrace.

  Acknowledgements

  There are so many people to thank for supporting me during this journey.

  Firstly, I need to thank my husband, Kevin for listening to me and allowing me to share the thoughts in my head regarding these characters and the story itself. And especially for all your love and support—thank you for helping me reach my goals and dreams.

  To my Editor and the team at Pen Name Publishing, you are the nicest, hardest working, dedicated and completely supportive group of professionals I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. It’s such an honor to work with all of you.

  Thank you to my family and friends for your encouragement and excitement for this book. Your support means everything to me. Jessica, thank you for your friendship and for constantly uplifting me with witty or inspirational quotes each day and “Pin-tacking” me—I love it. Peter, your loyal friendship, our daily phone calls (sometimes three or more) always make me laugh, smile and inspire me in more ways than you will ever know. For Beth, thank you for making me a better writer through blogging—you are my Yoda and above all a great friend.

  Endless appreciation to my online friends {Wednesday Night Wine Girls} and to all the bloggers who helped me to introduce Ashleigh, Emily, and Amanda to the world. Liam, Ethan and Vince send their love to all of you as well.

  Personal thanks to Tina Fey and Amy Poehler for inspiring me in so many ways. I know you don’t know me, but the quote “Bitches Get Stuff Done” is pinned to my wall. And you know what? It got done.

  A look at author Christy Pastore

  Christy Pastore grew up in the lakeside community of Syracuse, Indiana writing short stories that usually involved characters who loved to travel, had a passion for fashion and were often times swept up in boy crazy crushes. Many of her first stores also dealt with coming of age situations with their best girlfriends.

  Christy gave up reading books for several years, disillusioned with the annoying characters and predictable plot lines. Upon the recommendation of a friend, Christy picked up a much buzzed about popular romance novel which reminded her of why reading was such an enjoyable guilty pleasure.

  Writing has been a constant in Christy’s life, leading her to create a popular fashion blog, Fashion Wrap Up. This endeavor allowed Christy to have the wonderful experience of working and collaborating with many talented models, designers, makeup artists and photographers in the Fashion Industry. While Pastore still writes about fashion and celebrity style in her spare time, her passion for story development, more specifically creative writing, publishing and content creation has taken her on a new journey and career path: Author.

  Her debut novel, Fifteen Weekends will be out May 2014 just in time for you to add it to your summer reading list.

  Additionally, Christy enjoys a nice glass of Sauvignon Blanc, a warm cup of coffee, Gummi Bears, travelling and tweeting her thoughts on her favorite TV shows.

  Christy and her husband Kevin currently reside in St. Louis, Missouri in the popular Italian Neighborhood, The Hill, with their two lovable dogs and cooler than cool cat.