Cassidy Lane (23 page)

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Authors: Maria Murnane

BOOK: Cassidy Lane
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They came out
as a whisper.

Back at their
apartment building, Cassidy hugged Harper good-bye and exited the elevator on her floor, then walked slowly down the hall to her apartment.

Poor Harper.

Just yesterday he
had his whole life ahead of him. Now he was having a child with a woman he’d dated for only a few weeks.

Life really can
change on a dime.

That made her
think of the spot on her nose, and she reached into her purse, eager to see Brandon’s response to her voice mail about it. She hadn’t checked her phone all evening, not wanting to be rude after Harper had shared his life-changing news with her. She hoped there was nothing for her to be concerned about, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be, and she was grateful to be able to share her anxiety with someone other than her parents, whom she hadn’t told. She hadn’t even been to see a doctor yet, and the last thing she wanted was to alarm them without knowing if there was anything wrong. She could have told Patti or Danielle, but telling Brandon had felt like a step forward in their relationship.

She looked at
the screen.

There were no
messages.

Chapter Seventeen

CASSIDY WOKE UP
the next morning feeling something uncomfortably familiar.

Dread.

Why hadn’t Brandon
replied to her voice mail?

She hated that
this was her first thought of the day.

She looked at
the phone on her nightstand. Maybe he’d texted while she was sleeping?

She hated that
this was her second thought of the day.

When did I
become so dependent on him?

She sat up
in bed and stretched her arms over her head, then reached over and picked up the phone.

There was a
new text message.

It was from
Brandon, sent last night at just after ten o’clock his time.

Sorry it took so long to reply. Have been swamped. Sorry about your nose. Sounds like sun damage.

She read it
three times.

That was his
response?

Had it really
taken him that long to get around to listening to her voice mail? Or had he listened to the message but not replied until hours later?

In her mind
those were two very different scenarios.

She set down
the phone and shuffled into the bathroom.

At least he
got back to me, right?

She tried to
believe that was what mattered, but she wasn’t all that convinced.

From there on
out, Cassidy immersed herself in her novel, ordering meals for delivery and leaving her apartment only to ride the stationary bike. The exercise helped clear her head and also kept her from worrying so much about her nose, or Brandon, or about when her injured Achilles tendon would heal.

As for the
book, she was approaching the finish line now, and she was pleased with how the story was turning out. The only thing still up in the air was the ending. She kept going back and forth between two distinct scenarios for the final scene with Emma and Jeremy—one happy, one not so happy—and soon she was going to have to stop waffling and make a decision. She was tempted to pick up the phone and ask Nigel for advice on which way to go, but she knew it was important to her growth as a writer to figure it out on her own. The right ending would reveal itself to her if she just relaxed, let go of her preconceptions, and let it happen.

At four o’clock
the third day, she hit a wall and decided it was time to take a break from her self-imposed exile. She glanced out the window to see if it was still raining. The sky was cloudy and dark but the street looked dry, so she stood up and pulled a parka and knitted hat off the coatrack. She’d been holed up inside for too long; suddenly she needed some fresh air.

She’d just opened
the door when her phone rang. She walked back to her desk and smiled when she saw the name on the display.

“Brandon, hi.”

“Hi back. I
thought it would be nice to hear your voice for once instead of reading it.” He’d texted her a bit during her marathon writing session, but barely.

“It’s nice to
hear your voice too. How are you?”

“I’m hanging in
there. Sorry to have been out of touch lately. Things have been really rough with my mom.”

“Is she getting
any better?”

“Unfortunately, no. She’s
still completely paralyzed on her left side.”

“Oh, gosh, I’m
so sorry.”

“And suddenly Jack
is having more trouble at school.”

“Because of the
lisp?”

“Yes. It’s getting
worse, so the teasing is getting worse too. Or maybe the lisp is getting worse because of the teasing. We’re not sure what’s really going on.”

“Poor little guy.
What are you going to do?”

He sighed. “Juliette
and I aren’t quite seeing eye to eye on that. She wants to put him in a special school, but I’d like to give speech therapy more of a chance first before taking such drastic action. I want the boys to be together, if possible.”

“Sounds complicated. I’m
…sure you two will figure something out.” Was that the right response? Or was she supposed to take his side? She was at a loss as to how to react.

He cleared his
throat. “Anyhow, enough about all my problems. How’s the book coming along? I know your deadline is looming.”

“Pretty well, thanks
for asking. I’m going to have to push hard to finish on time, but I think I can do it. I was just about to go for a walk, actually. I’ve been hunkered down in my apartment and need to get outside.”

“Well, I’ll let
you get going then. I just wanted to say hi.”

“I’m glad you
did.”

They said good-bye
and she headed out of the door with a smile on her face, wondering why she’d been so insecure about him.

It wasn’t until
she was in the elevator that she realized he hadn’t asked her anything about her nose.

The next afternoon
Cassidy was absorbed in her novel when she was startled by the chime of a text. It was a message from Harper:

Frozen yogurt tonight? I know it’s cold outside, but I’ve got me a hankering.

She typed a
quick reply.

Sure. Meet me in the lobby at seven thirty. Trying to write until then. See ya.

Less than a
minute later her phone chimed again, and she silently cursed Harper. Had she not been clear enough that she was working? She picked up the phone and was surprised to see Brandon’s name on the display.

She caught her
breath as she read the message.

I’ve been looking at that photo you sent me.

She put her
free hand on her cheek, which suddenly felt a bit flushed.

She read the
message again, then looked at the manuscript on the screen in front of her. She knew she should keep writing and wait until later to respond, but it didn’t matter either way. Her focus was shattered, which meant the same for her momentum, reply or no reply.

The next few
hours were dotted with a playful exchange of messages that kept her heart aflutter even as she tried her best to be productive. Brandon was in her head again now, and she was helpless to resist:

You’ve been looking at my photo again?

I have

You’re making me blush.

Good

You’re a man of few words today. Very little punctuation too.

I’m working

You’re working? It certainly doesn’t seem like it.

I’m multitasking

I thought men weren’t good at that.

I’m not like most men

I think I’ve figured that out.

I’m looking at the photo right now, you’re beautiful.

Cassidy smiled and
felt a small tear form in the corner of her eye as she read the text.
He really likes me too. I’m not the only one feeling this.

She chewed on
her pencil as she pondered something she’d been thinking about for a while now.

Should she ask
him?

Was it too
early?

She pushed the
thoughts away and worked on her book a bit more, then stood up and stretched her arms over her head before heading into her bedroom to change out of her sweatpants. As she pulled a pair of jeans from the drawer, she began to craft a new text message in her head. From there she moved to the bathroom, where she fixed her hair and applied a bit of makeup and mentally tweaked the message. When she was all dressed and ready to meet Harper for yogurt, she picked up her phone. She read Brandon’s last text again, then began to type:

I know people’s schedules fill up way ahead of time during the holidays. Would it be wildly inappropriate for me to invite you to something now?

The response time
from both of them had varied all afternoon, but this time he wrote her back right away:

What day?

She typed again,
practically holding her breath as she did so:

My family has an annual dinner at a restaurant downtown. It’s my parents and Tyler and Jessica and the girls, plus Jessica’s parents and a few assorted friends and relatives, usually around 20 people including kids. My dad pays for everything, and it’s the only night all year he wears a tie. This year it’s on the Friday before Christmas at the Westin. Do you have the boys that weekend?

Within a minute
he replied:

I just checked my calendar. No kids that weekend! Dinner sounds fun.

The corners of
her lips turned upward.
He said yes!

She glanced at
the clock and typed another message:

Great. I’ll tell my parents you’re in. They’ll be happy to see you again. So will I.

Her phone chimed
again:

The feeling is mutual.

With a huge
smile on her face, she tossed the phone into her purse and rushed out the door to meet Harper.

Her relationship with
Brandon had just taken a big step forward.

“So how’s it
going with Vanessa?” Cassidy said, then scooped up a spoonful of peanut butter yogurt.

Harper shrugged. “The
same. She’s still pregnant. How’s it going with that guy in California?”

“For the record
his name is Brandon, and I think it’s going pretty well.”

He raised an
eyebrow. “You
think
it’s going pretty well? Talk about hedging your bets.”

She pointed her
spoon at him. “Hey, now. Given the inconvenient geography of the situation, that’s the only answer I can give you, and I
think
it’s a pretty good one.”

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