Cassidy Lane (32 page)

Their entire conversation
had taken place on the front steps.

She wiped a
small tear from the corner of her eye.

How fitting.

Later that afternoon
Cassidy drove up to Portola Valley and went for a long run. Besides the Jingle Jog, this was the first time she’d broken a sweat outdoors in months, and she felt…
free
. The air was crisp and clear, the only sounds those of her breathing and the crackling of an occasional leaf beneath her shoes on the dirt trail. The quiet solitude was a stark difference from Central Park, where even on the bleakest day she encountered dozens of other joggers.

As she ran
she replayed the stilted conversation with Brandon in her head, or what she could remember of it. In addition to his chilly demeanor, the only thing she could recall with absolute clarity was the haunting, vacant look in his eyes. She hadn’t gotten much of a reaction to the cuff links, but what did she expect? He clearly had nothing to give, at least to her, at least for the time being and maybe never. Seeing him in such a state finally made her understand—and believe—that his behavior had very little to do with her. There was no denying she’d been shaken by it, but their conversation had also altered the sorrow she was feeling, and for the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel like crying. Maybe Brandon did still care for her, or maybe he didn’t. But it didn’t matter; right now he needed to focus on his family and his livelihood. That was just how it had to be.

Her mind reached
further back, to the day he’d told her he couldn’t handle more than a friendship, when she’d wanted so desperately to run but her injured leg wouldn’t allow it. She vividly remembered how upset she’d been as she walked through Central Park, how her chest had hurt physically, how she’d fought back the tears…and lost.

How she’d felt
so rejected.

So misled.

So unlovable.

So…
sad.

At the time,
and for weeks after, she’d asked herself what was wrong with her, why he didn’t want her.

After seeing him
today, she wasn’t asking those questions anymore. She was still disappointed their romance hadn’t worked out, but now she understood he was hurting just as deeply as she was, if not more so, and despite her own heartache, she felt compassion for him. Though her parents were getting older of course, they were still very healthy, and her relationship with them was a source of joy, one that brought her love and support, not anguish and stress.

As she continued
to run along the trail, the crisp air whistling past her, she remembered what Patti had said about life, how romantic love was just one piece of the picture. She began to mentally tick off other areas of her life that were on track:

She’d finished her
sixth novel.

Her career was
moving forward.

She had Patti.

And Danielle.

And Harper.

Her leg had
healed.

Next month she’d
be giving her second keynote address—and was determined to do better this time.

She had her
own apartment in one of the greatest cities in the world.

She was living
the life of a writer, which countless others only dreamed of.

She didn’t even
have to wake up early if she didn’t want to.

She felt the
tiniest of smiles appear on her face as she finished her run.

It’s time to
stop feeling sorry for myself.

She’d been unable
to stop the tears that day in the park, but she’d fought through them, and she would continue to do so. While the fog of heartache was far from lifted, she hadn’t let the emotional pain stop her from experiencing happiness in other parts of her life, although she hadn’t quite realized that until today. She could now see—albeit with bittersweet clarity—what Patti had been trying to tell her.

No one’s life
was perfect, but in the grand scheme of things, hers was going pretty well.

When Cassidy returned
to the parking lot, she leaned against a tree to stretch out her leg, thrilled that it had held up for the duration of the run—and not oblivious to the symbolism. Once inside the car she removed her phone from the glove compartment, then clicked to open the marathon chain of text messages between her and Brandon, containing every note they’d shared. She was briefly tempted to scroll back to the beginning of the exchange, as she’d done several times before, reliving the fleeting promise of romance one last time while also trying to pinpoint when everything had begun to go south. But now she knew it was pointless to revisit any of it, the good or the bad.

It was time
to stop asking what had gone wrong. It was time to move forward.

She hesitated for
just a moment, then clicked
delete this thread
.

Chapter Twenty-Five

CASSIDY FLEW HOME
two days later, grateful to be beginning a new year in Manhattan despite the freezing sheets of sleet that greeted her at the airport. She’d long ago given up making New Year’s resolutions she never kept, but she always enjoyed the chance to start fresh, and this year was no exception. Assuming the revision went smoothly,
Miss Perception
would be coming out in the fall, and the time had come to start thinking about what to write next. It was always a daunting process, but she now knew from experience that she’d think of something eventually. She just had to let it come to her.

That evening she
met Danielle for a glass of wine at Bin 71. They hadn’t spoken much over the holidays, and Cassidy was eager to get caught up on the CFO Jonathan saga.

The moment Danielle
walked through the door, Cassidy could see something was wrong from her seat at the bar. She set down her glass and stood up as Danielle approached.

“I got fired,”
Danielle said.

“What? When?”

Danielle took off
her coat and gestured toward the bartender to bring her a drink. “Yesterday. Jonathan’s wife went to the board when she found out I work at the same company he does. Actually, her lawyer went to the board.”

“She knows?”

Danielle nodded. “He
told her right after Christmas.”

Cassidy covered her
mouth with her hand. “Wow, he really did it.”

“Yep, and she’s
pissed. Although I can’t blame her, really. I’d be pissed too. I
am
pissed. The whole situation sucks.”

“And they fired
you
? Why not him? Is what you did illegal?”

Danielle laughed weakly
and sat down on a bar stool. “I love you to death for supporting me, but you clearly don’t understand corporate America.”

“I thought you
said his wife wasn’t into the marriage anymore.”

“She’s not. She’s
into an enormous divorce settlement, which she’ll get if she can prove he was unfaithful, even though he’s pretty sure she’s had several affairs herself.”

“I’m so sorry,
Danielle. What happens now?”

Danielle picked up
her glass. “I’m having a drink, that’s what happens now.”

“Are they giving
you a severance package?”

“Hell yes, and
a large one. Technically I’m
resigning,
but we all know that’s a corporate euphemism for
I got thrown out on my ass without cause
. So don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I feel gross about the whole situation, but I’ll be fine.”

“What are you
going to do?”

Danielle pointed at
her glass. “Did you not hear what I just said? I’m having a drink.”

“Very funny.”

Danielle shrugged. “I’m
not sure yet. I’ll probably take a few months off, do some traveling. I’ve already gotten a few calls from headhunters, so I’m not too worried about finding another job. I’m more worried about forgiving myself for getting into such a mess.”

“See what you
were missing all those years you didn’t let your heart get involved? Isn’t it fun?”

“Oh, yes, it’s
awesome. I wish I’d done this much sooner. I wouldn’t have spent all that time feeling independent and good about myself.”

“And Jonathan? What’s
going to happen with him?”

“I guess we’ll
see. I think we both need some space. I love him, but he’s knee-deep in it right now, so I think the smart thing to do is just stay away from him until things settle down.”

Cassidy squeezed Danielle’s
knee. “I love how levelheaded you are, even in the middle of a nightmare like this. I wish I were more like you.”

Danielle smiled. “Thanks
for saying that. But enough about me; I want to talk about
you
. Did your editor like your book?”

“Yes! I’m so
relieved, you have no idea.”

“I knew he
would. And what about Brandon? Did you see him when you were home?”

Cassidy nodded.

“Well? What happened?

Cassidy spread her
fingers wide to show off her nails. “What do you think? I’ve gone more than two weeks without a nibble. Darlene’s going to be so proud of me.”

Danielle peered at
her over the rim of her wineglass. “That is a truly sad attempt at deflecting a question. So I’m guessing it didn’t go so well?”

Cassidy dropped her
hands and shook her head. “It went the opposite of well.”

“Did you give
him the cuff links?

“That also didn’t
go so well.”

Danielle frowned. “I’m
sorry, hon.”

“Me too. But
it’s a new year, and I don’t want to talk about it. I’m all about new beginnings right now.”

Danielle lifted her
glass. “Then here’s to a new year and new beginnings.”

Cassidy clinked her
glass against Danielle’s. “Amen to that.”

“Hello there, welcome
to Annabelle’s. Do you have an appointment?” A young woman approached with a polite smile and spoke in a hushed voice as Cassidy shut the door behind her.

Cassidy smiled back
and glanced around the salon, which for the first time she noticed wasn’t scented. “Yes, my name’s Cassidy Lane. I have a five o’clock with Darlene.”

“Oh, yes, Ms.
Lane. I’m Denise. I’ll be taking care of you this evening. May I hang that up for you?” She gestured to Cassidy’s coat.

“Is Darlene ill?”
Cassidy asked as she removed it and handed it to the woman, then took off her gloves and glanced at her nails. She’d been looking forward to showing off the fruits of her nibble-free holiday, plus the two weeks she’d been back in New York. Earlier that afternoon she’d turned in the revision of
Miss Perception
right on schedule, and after so many hours at her desk she’d been looking forward to pampering herself. In addition to a manicure, she’d also scheduled a facial, her first.

After hanging up
Cassidy’s coat, Denise explained, “Darlene doesn’t work here anymore. Would you like a cup of tea?”

Cassidy stopped walking
and looked at her. “What? What happened?”

Denise kept smiling
as she nudged Cassidy toward the manicure station. “I couldn’t say, Ms. Lane.”

“Is she OK?”

“I really couldn’t
say, ma’am. I’m new here. Do you prefer peppermint or chamomile?”

Cassidy stared at
her, feeling a bit stunned. “Oh, um, peppermint, please.” She took a seat.

Darlene was gone?

Why did she
leave?

Where did she
go?

Why didn’t she
say anything when she did my nails before Christmas?

Cassidy looked around
the salon. Though the room was filled with customers, it suddenly felt a bit empty.

And a bit
cold.

Denise soon appeared
with a steaming cup of tea and sat down across from Cassidy. “Have you had a manicure here before?” she asked gently.

Cassidy nodded. “Several
times, always with Darlene. She was lovely.”

Denise smiled. “Well
it’s nice to have you back. I’ll do my best to fill her shoes. Go ahead and relax now.”

As Denise went
to work on her nails—without putting a warm wrap on Cassidy’s neck—Cassidy closed her eyes and let her mind drift to thoughts of what had happened to Darlene. After a few minutes of daydreaming, she came up with the following scenario:

Carl, Darlene’s beloved
husband of thirty-five years, retired from his job at the tire factory with a comfortable pension. After much thought they decided to make a big change and sell their modest two-bedroom house in exchange for a condo at a community for active seniors in Vero Beach, Florida. Their new place will have plenty of room for the children and their families to visit regularly, and the happy couple will welcome loved ones with open arms to their new home. Carl will focus on losing weight and lowering his blood pressure through regular walks and games of golf, and Darlene will dip into their nest egg to finally fund her own dream, a small nail salon in the center of town called Darlene’s. The space will be bright and inviting and will always smell wonderful, and soon Darlene will have a base of regular customers who appreciate her friendly, nurturing, and gentle demeanor.

It will be
a perfect next chapter in her life.

And well deserved.

Cassidy looked up
from her hamburger. “She’s moving in with you next month?”

Harper tossed a
fry into his mouth. “That is correct. She just gave her thirty-day notice.”

“And you two
are getting along OK?”

He shrugged and
picked up another fry. “As well as can be expected, I guess. It’s all a bit stressful.”

“And business school?
Still on the back burner?”

He nodded. “Way
in the back.”

“Ah, got it.”
Cassidy tried to look cheerful but failed.

“I’ll be fine,”
Harper said.

“I know you
will.”

It was the
following Saturday, and the two of them were having lunch at the New Wave Café on Broadway and Seventy-Eighth. Harper was facing his own new beginnings, albeit not necessarily the ones he would have chosen for himself.

He reached for
the ketchup. “What about you? What’s new and exciting in the world of Cassidy?”

She picked up
her water glass with a shrug. “Compared to what’s going on with you, pretty much nothing, although I did finish my book.”