The brief taste was as sweet as he remembered and not nearly enough. Brady didn’t dare risk more. Not here. Not now. He gazed into her eyes. “Why did we break up?”
“Don’t you remember? You wanted sex. I did, too, but not unless we were engaged. And here we are.”
“Oh, I remember the sex part.” They’d come close to making love more than a few times, but Holly had refused to go all the way without a ring on her finger. At eighteen, with a football scholarship to college, he hadn’t been ready for marriage—no matter how hot he was for Holly.
Brady still wanted her. Badly. Even after all the women he’d been with and the years that had passed, making love with Holly was a fantasy that stayed with him. “At least you came to your senses about that,” he said. “How long did it take?”
“Not long. A few months into my freshman year of college. If you’d just been patient…”
But patience never had been Brady’s strength. And sex with Holly was out. She was and always would be the woman he couldn’t have, the one he fantasized over, period.
Wielding a battery-powered lantern, Jeff and Todd ambled toward him.
“Figured we’d find you sooner or later,” Jeff said, holding up the light. “You need a ride back, or are you going home with Holly?”
Home with Holly. Despite himself, Brady liked the sound of that.
Holly didn’t. Her mouth tightened. “Brady’s going with you.”
Yep, nothing but fantasies for him. “See you later, Holly. Tell your mom I said good night.”
“I will. ’Night, Brady.”
She opened the door on the driver’s side and slid in.
*
FRIDAY NIGHT Holly stood in the bathroom off the Silver Cliff Lodge’s lobby, staring at her reflection. Thanks to the skillful cut, her blond-tinted hair swung nicely just above her shoulders. With a rhinestone necklace and earrings, a glittery shawl and a sparkly belt, the black shift she’d worn all day had been transformed to a cocktail dress. Sheer stockings and strappy, three-inch sandals finished off the outfit.
Not bad for a woman who had spent a full day at work. A woman soon to be out of a job. Her stomach knotted with worry. But no, she wasn’t going there this weekend. From now through Sunday she would push her troubles aside and enjoy herself.
These days she didn’t get out much at night, and the chance to spend an entire evening with adults…well, it was going to be fun. “Fun, Holly,” she told her reflection. “Got that?”
She was glad her mom had agreed to watch Alix during the mixer tonight and the dance tomorrow night. She forced a smile. That was better.
Now for the lipstick. She pursed her mouth and thought about the brief brush of Brady’s lips on hers. The sweetness had stayed with her a long time last night. It had only been a little kiss, nothing like the deep, passionate ones they’d shared in high school, but potent all the same. So powerful, she’d even daydreamed about it once or twice today.
Once or twice? Make that a whole lot. Holly frowned. She’d agreed to be civil, not waste time fantasizing about the man.
She spun away from the mirror and fiddled with the Class of ’93 button and the name badge given when she’d registered for the reunion. Not wanting a pinhole in her dress, she attached both to the strap of her handbag.
“I will have fun tonight,” she stated in a loud voice that echoed off the walls. Ready at last, she exited the bathroom and headed for the dining room.
Wearing a bright smile, she moved down the hallway, barely noting the worn flowered carpet or the dingy walls.
Every restaurant in town was booked for various reunion-class parties, and the dining room, which wasn’t quite as shabby as the rest of the lodge, was packed with alumni, who were talking, eating and drinking. The crowd and noise were overpowering. At five foot five in heels, Holly couldn’t see over the people, but somewhere in the room, Aileen and Bill and others from their class—she wouldn’t let herself think about Brady—had snagged a table. At least that was the plan. What she needed was a margarita and something to eat.
Minutes later, drink and a plate of hors d’oeuvres in hand, she made her way leisurely through the crowd, stopping to greet and chat with people from other graduating classes. By the time she spotted Aileen and Bill at a long table near the window, her feet were starting to hurt and she was ready to sit down.
Aileen waved her over to the seat she’d saved near one end. To Holly’s relief and disappointment, Brady was not at the table. Fun, she reminded herself. I will have fun.
“Good to see you, Holly.” “You look beautiful,” locals and classmates from out of town, some arriving only hours ago, said as she sat down.
Many of them had noticed Brady sharing her blanket last night, but thankfully not one person mentioned that fact. Most knew about the pending TYR sale. She was leaning toward the head of the table, chatting with Charlie Parks, an up-and-coming playwright who had arrived with his wife this afternoon, all the way from London, when Aileen elbowed her.
“Here comes Brady.”
Holly had filled her in on their agreement to be nice to each other the whole weekend. She hadn’t shared her confusion or mentioned the little kiss that kept teasing through her mind.
Aileen glanced at the opposite end of the table. “Look at Monica Combs trying to get his attention.” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like her. She’s a vamp. Even if she is the Realtor for Bill’s project.”
Holly didn’t mind Monica, who was friendly with everyone, especially men. What she didn’t like was the way the woman ogled Brady, as though she wanted to devour him.
“Brady, sit down here!” Aileen called out over the noise. “There’s a seat across from Holly.”
Eyebrows raised, including Monica’s, and Holly knew people were curious and puzzled. They’d sat together at last night’s fireworks, yet his company was booting her out. Now they’d sit together again. What was going on?
“They promised to treat each other decently all weekend,” Carla Plummer explained from the other end of the table.
Carla and Holly weren’t close, yet that she knew this tidbit of information came as no surprise. In this town, people knew everything about everyone.
Brady gave an aw-shucks shrug, and Holly offered a nonchalant smile. Then she turned again to Charlie and his wife. “You were talking about the theater in London?”
A waiter replenished the platters of crackers and cheese along the table. For a while everyone nibbled, drank and talked. Charlie and his wife told entertaining stories, but Holly listened with an ear cocked toward Brady. He and Bill, who hadn’t had a chance to catch up until now, were talking.
Bill had asked about the lodge, but Brady had changed the subject to tomorrow morning’s dedication, the kickoff of the high school’s transformation into condo units. The mayor had set the date of the dedication so that visiting alumni could take part.
“Construction starts next week,” Bill said. “Keeping the building’s historical integrity has been an architectural challenge, but I think we’ve done it. The units will be nice.”
“Nice?” Aileen gaped at him. “Gorgeous is more like it, and quite a good investment. Do you realize that several units already are presold? People plan to live in them part of the year and rent them the rest. With skiing in the winter and hiking in the summer, tourism has become a growing year-round business, so why not? There’s plenty of opportunity for everyone.”
“No kidding.” Now even Charlie was listening. He glanced at his wife. “We may want to look into one of the condos. Who’s handling the sales?”
“I am,” Monica said, waving a hand. “I’ll pass you my card.”
While the business card moved from hand to hand and people talked excitedly about the growing tourist trade, Holly thought about the depressing fact that she, Alix and her mother were losing out. Somehow she had to find a new location for the shop and figure out how to pay for the move and the higher rent.
“I’m sorry, H
olly,” Aileen murmured, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean to bring you down with all this talk about business.” She glanced at Brady. “This must be awkward for you, too.”
He nodded solemnly, his expression so guilt-ridden that Holly almost felt sorry for him.
“But Holly and I aren’t going there—at least, not this weekend.” He cast her an anxious look. “Are we?”
“No,” she said firmly. “This weekend is for having fun, period.”
She sounded so certain that she almost believed herself.
Chapter Four
The jangle of the phone woke Brady from a dreamless sleep. Cracking open one eye, he groped for the phone. It wasn’t on the left side of the bed. What the—Oh, yeah, he wasn’t at home. He was at the lodge.
Rolling over, he grabbed the receiver. “Brady here.”
“You were supposed to report in,” Hal Waters, Brady’s boss, said in his usual no-nonsense tone.
At seven on Saturday morning? Brady groaned. “Don’t you ever relax? We’ve only just recovered from a national holiday, and you know I’m tied up with my reunion this weekend.” He sat up, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
“Since when did you take off weekends?”
“Since now. Got a problem with that?”
“I do when you’re in the middle of negotiations.”
Brady thought about Holly and the other hotel employees he’d met so far. Knowing his company soon would put them on the street felt rotten, and he’d tossed and turned for hours. “I’m not sure this is the right hotel for us,” he said.
“What was that? Because I know I didn’t hear what I think I heard.”
“The lodge needs more work than we realized,” he said, glancing at the worn carpet and peeling wallpaper. “The bathrooms are old and the rooms and lobby need extensive renovations. It’ll cost way too much for our budget.”
“So we’ll lower our offer. Webb is so eager to sell and retire he’ll take anything. You’re the best, Brady. You can talk him into it. That’s why you’re in line for CEO.”
He would dangle that carrot. “I don’t think we should buy it,” Brady repeated. “I don’t like putting people I know out of work.”
“If you don’t care about the promotion, say it now. Because I can bring in Thoreen to handle the deal.”
Carl Thoreen was a weaselly little man Brady detested. “Keep him out of this.” Brady scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll handle the negotiations.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. If you’re hell-bent to party this weekend, go ahead. But keep your distance from those people so you can do your job. Your future depends on it.” The phone clicked.
Brady hung up, wondering whether it wasn’t time to find new employment. At that rebel thought, he scowled and stalked to his suitcase. For years he’d worked long hours, day in and day out, all for this promotion. Nothing was getting in his way, including his conscience.
Now he had a dedication to go to, and two days to enjoy himself. Come Monday, he would put together the sales plan TYR expected, using estimates of needed repairs to justify the rock-bottom offer.
*
BY THE TIME HOLLY, her mom and Alix arrived at Silver Cliff High for the dedication Saturday morning, a crowd had gathered.
The weather was perfect—sunny and warm but not yet hot. Brady was somewhere in the crowd—Holly sensed it. Wearing a happy face last night hadn’t been easy, and she was in no mood to see him today or at tonight’s gala dinner and reunion dance. Avoiding him wasn’t possible, but she could try.
Holding Alix’s hand, she moved to just in front of the high school’s wide front steps, where her view was limited to the mayor and the people to either side. Unusually silent, her mother followed along.
While Alix was dressing this morning, Holly had told her mother about the agreement she and Brady had made to be civil through the weekend. “That’s the only reason we’re speaking to each other,” she’d explained.
She hadn’t mentioned her unnerving attraction to Brady, but the glimmer in her mother’s eyes made her wonder whether she’d guessed. Thankfully she hadn’t said another word about him.
Now her mother frowned. “I feel silly coming to the dedication ceremony. I didn’t even graduate from Silver Cliff High School, and I certainly don’t care about the condos.”
“Daddy and I did, so you’re invited by proxy.”
As her mother and Alix chatted with friends and everyone waited for Mayor Passky to start the dedication, Holly tried to fill her mind with happy thoughts. Yet she couldn’t help worrying about her future. How was she going to support Alix?
That was nerve-racking enough. Even more upsetting were her feelings for Brady. She was strongly attracted to him. Which was confusing and bad. Very bad. Brady was all wrong for her.
Suddenly people moved aside as Mayor Passky, an alum from the Class of ’80, shook hands on his way to the steps. Standing a few feet from the old wooden front door, he tapped the microphone someone had set up. A hush fell over the group.
“As you all know, Silver Cliff High has closed its doors forever,” he said in the deep, beautiful voice that had made him a popular disc jockey before he’d turned to politics. “When the building reopens, it will house twenty-four condominiums and have a new name, Mountain View Estates. For those who may not have heard, Mountain View High, the brand-new, state-of-the-art high school for Silver Cliff and other nearby communities, will open its doors in August.”
Who’d have thought closing the high school would make a girl cry? Sniffling and swiping her eyes, Holly glanced at the glorious Rocky Mountains rimming the horizon.
“For those alumni here today, please join me tonight at the Silver Palace for a gala dinner, followed by an all-alumni dance in the high-school gym. I don’t want to give away any secrets, but my lovely wife, Bonnie, Class of ’82—” he nodded at a slim, attractive brunette who waved her hand in the air “—and her committee have worked hard to make Silver Cliff High School’s final dance an unforgettable evening.” He scanned the crowd. “There’s former pro quarterback Brady Cornell.” He pointed at Brady, somewhere in the middle of the crowd, then led the applause.
Surrounded by people, Holly couldn’t see him. She imagined him waving and flashing an irresistible grin.
“Tragically, Brady’s career was cut short by a knee injury,” the mayor continued, “but we know he got his start right here. For Brady and the other athletes here today, please join me in one last hurrah for our beloved Soaring Eagle mascot and team. Go, Soaring Eagles!”
He pumped his fist high, and the air rumbled with enthusiastic voices. Over the crowd, Holly was sure she heard Brady.
“Mama, I feel sick,” Alix said.
She did look pale. “Oh, dear. We’d better go home. Come on, Mother.”
Intent on getting Alix to the car, she kept her head down and didn’t stop to chat with anyone.
Just before Alix climbed into the car, she threw up.
*
SHORTLY AFTER the dance started Saturday night, Holly pulled in to the paved parking lot behind the high school. Thanks to Alix’s nasty flu bug, she’d missed the dinner at the Silver Palace Hotel, a beautiful building with a brand-new conference center that held a thousand people. The Palace was newer and much nicer than the Silver Cliff Lodge, was always busy with conventions and tourists. Their thriving gift shop was every bit as nice as Holly’s and she and the owner enjoyed a friendly rivalry that would soon end.
But Holly didn’t want to think about that now. She didn’t want to think about how exhausted she was, either. Caring for a sick child was demanding and wearing. If this wasn’t the last-ever reunion at the high school, she’d have crawled into bed right after Alix. Instead, with her mother urging her on, she was here. She’d have a good time, too, or die trying.
Nearly every parking slot was taken, but she found a space at the very back of the lot. For several moments she sat in the car, unable to see beyond the halogen
lights around the perimeter of the lot.
Her stomach felt as if a giant hand were squeezing it and her hands were ice-cold. Was this the beginning of Alix’s flu bug? No, she didn’t feel sick. More…nervous. For some reason, coming here by herself was hard, much harder than the ten-year reunion.
Ridiculous. This was an alumni gathering, a time to visit with friends. No one cared that she was alone. Brady would be, too. Holly frowned. When she saw him tonight, she’d continue to be civil. But mostly she’d stay away from him.
She exited the car and made her way to the gym around the side of the school, the heels of her glittery silver mules tapping smartly on the pavement. The crisp, clear night invigorated her, and by the time she reached the battered metal gym doors she felt better. Holly adjusted her name badge and Class of ’93 button, smoothed down the tomato-red cocktail dress—bought on sale—and walked inside.
A wide hall separated the gym from the exit, but through the closed gym doors voices and an eighties rock ’n’ roll song floated toward her. Humming to the music, she headed for the rectangular table, where her beloved English teacher, Miss Blanchard, sat to sign people in.
“Hello, Miss Blanchard,” she said over the loud music.
“Hello, Holly.” The older woman’s plump, ageless face lit in a fond smile. “You look lovely tonight. How’s Alix?”
Naturally she’d know about Alix. “Better. She was sleeping when I left tonight. Aren’t you coming inside, to the dance?”
“Someone needs to stay out here and check off people. I’ll be in later.”
“That this is our last time ever in this school feels sad,” Holly said.
“It certainly does. I taught here for thirty-three years. But we’ll have photos and our memories, and the building will still be here,” Miss Blanchard said. “It’ll just be different.”
Holly liked her positive view of the situation. “I wonder where we’ll hold our future reunions?” she asked.
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