Cassidy Lane (34 page)

She was still
trying to wrap her head around what she’d just learned about Darlene, but her mind also kept returning to the conversation she’d had earlier with Molly Benson.

One thing in
particular that Molly had said to her jumped out.

Please keep doing
what you’re doing. We all need to believe.

Cassidy stared at
the screen for a few moments, then glanced at the sticky note she’d pasted on a corner of her desk, the idea she’d jotted down after watching the video at Nigel’s office.

Hmm.

I need to
believe too.

A new story
was talking to her. And it was time to listen.

She opened the
bag, popped a marshmallow into her mouth, and began to type.

Chapter Twenty-Six

one month later

CASSIDY BOARDED THE
ten o’clock train, which had arrived right on schedule and was barely half-full. She smiled at the ease of it all. After nearly a decade of living in New York City, her tolerance for freeway traffic had effectively disappeared, so she’d opted for Caltrain over her mom’s car for the thirty-five-mile trip from Palo Alto to San Francisco.

She settled into a comfortable window seat, and within moments the train pulled out of the station. While reviewing her notes, she occasionally glanced out the window as they wound their way up the tree-lined Peninsula. The experience could not have been more different from the New York subway, which bustled even in off-peak hours. As she did every time she visited home, she wondered what her life would be like if she lived here again. Would the calm be a welcome change? Or would she eventually become bored and crave the energy of the big city? Though she’d had the same conversation with herself countless times, she still didn’t know the answer.

She smiled as
she realized that she had the best of both worlds. For now, at least, she still liked it that way.

Her thoughts turned
to the keynote speech ahead. This time she was determined to open up more to the audience, which meant she’d soon be sharing her personal story of repeated failure with nearly a thousand women.

She hoped to
inspire them to follow their dreams, as she had.

To stand up
in the face of rejection and keep trying, as she had.

To keep trying.

And trying.

She glanced out
the train window.

Please don’t choke.

“Thank you so
much for being so honest. It makes all the difference to know you had to work at it too. You’ve really inspired me to follow my dream of opening my own flower store.”

“You’re very welcome.”
Cassidy smiled and peeked over the woman’s shoulder as she handed her a signed copy of
Hanover Square
. The line of enthusiastic conference attendees waiting patiently to speak to Cassidy had snaked down the hall at one point, and she was exhausted.

But also exhilarated.

She’d done it
this time.

While she’d wanted
to open up more than she had at her first keynote, she hadn’t expected to share quite so many of her own shortcomings. This was the first time she’d divulged such intimate, wrenching details about her professional insecurities in a public forum, and the warm reaction she’d received had touched her deeply, in a way she hadn’t expected.

Being forthcoming about
her failures wasn’t such a scary thing after all.

When the line
had finally cleared, she smiled to herself.
I need to speak at events like this more often.

Cassidy was collecting
her things to leave when her phone beeped on the table in front of her. It was a text from Harper.

CALL ME IMMEDIATELY. AS IN NOW.

She did as
instructed, wondering what the big news could possibly be. She hadn’t talked to him in nearly a week.

He answered on
the first ring. “I’m not the father.”

“What?”

“I’m not the
father. The baby’s not mine.”

Cassidy gasped. “Oh
my God.”

“Can you believe
it? After all that?”

“I’m stunned.”

“Join the club.”

“What happened?”

“Vanessa took a
paternity test.”

There was no
one within thirty feet of her, but Cassidy lowered her voice to a whisper anyway. “Why?”

“We were out
to dinner the other night, and as we were leaving, we bumped into a couple of women she knows. One of them, who had clearly been drinking, made a joke about wondering who the father was. When Vanessa didn’t laugh, I knew something wasn’t right. When we got home I pressed her about it, and it turns out I wasn’t the only guy she was sleeping with when she got pregnant.”

“Wow.”

“Yep. So I
insisted on a paternity test just to be sure, and we just got the results today. Negative.”

Cassidy slowly shook
her head. “So you’re…off the hook? I know that sounds horrible.”

“It’s not horrible.
It’s true. She was playing me, and she knew it.”

Cassidy remembered how
Harper had used the phrase
dodged a bullet
after her skin-cancer scare. Now he’d dodged one of his own. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t quite trust her,” she said.

“You and everyone
else. So when are you coming back to New York? We have to celebrate my newfound bachelorhood. Not to mention my business school essays. I want to get that ball rolling again so I can have my applications in by March.”

“I’ll be back
early Friday evening. Maybe dinner?”

“Perfect.”

“Cool, it’s a
date. I’ll text you when I land.” She hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment, thinking once again how quickly life can change.

“You have a
date on Friday?”

The sound of
a male voice startled her.

His voice.

No way.

It can’t be.

She looked up
and saw Brandon standing there.

He was holding
a bouquet of pink tulips.

“What are you
doing here?”

He handed her
the flowers. “I came to hear you speak. You were really, really good. I
was impressed.”

She looked at
the arrangement, then up at him. “But…how did you know I was here?” They hadn’t had any contact in weeks. Had he called her parents? Or Patti?

“I checked your
website.”

“Oh.” Suddenly she
was back at Diablo Royale in the West Village, when he’d told her he’d read her bio. What was going on? Had he really come all the way up to the city…for her?

“Thanks for the
tulips, Brandon. They’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.” He
cleared his throat. “Listen, do you think we could talk somewhere private?”

She pointed down
the hall. “There’s a bar next to the lobby. Want to get some coffee?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Let me just
get my things, OK?”

He waited in
the hallway as she ducked into the speakers’ lounge to pick up her coat. She willed her nervous system to keep calm, but it was futile. She was now more anxious than she’d been during her keynote.

Why is he
here?

What does he
want?

She wiped her
palms on a napkin, hoping they weren’t too sweaty.

She took a
deep breath, then stepped out into the hallway and forced a smile. “OK, I’m ready.”

As they walked
toward the bar in silence, Cassidy wondered if it would be too early to order a real drink. She could certainly use one. They chose a high table in a far corner near the windows.

“What can I
get you?” Brandon gestured toward the bar as she climbed onto a stool and set the bouquet of flowers on the table.

“I’ll have a
glass of wine. What the hell, right?” She gave him an awkward smile.

“Sauvignon blanc?”

“You remember?” She’d
ordered sauvignon blanc on their one official dinner date.

He smiled. “I
remember. I think I’ll have the same.”

Her mind began
to race as he walked over to the bar.

Is this really
happening?

Is this what
I think it is?

After all this
time?

Has he really
come around?

Brandon returned with
two glasses of wine, then took a seat next to her.

“Congratulations again on
an excellent keynote.” He lifted his glass for a toast. “You were quite an inspiration up there.”

She tapped her
glass against his. “Thank you. I think you might have been the only male member of the audience.”

“Nah, I saw
a few male waiters milling around.”

She smiled. “Ah,
yes, of course.”

“So you have
a date on Friday?” he asked.

She blushed and
looked at the table, startled at the quick change of topic. “Oh, no. That’s just my friend Harper.”

“I doubt that.”

She regained eye
contact with him. “It’s a long story, but trust me, he’s just a friend. So how’s your mom doing?”

He shrugged. “She’s
OK; stable but not great. The good news is that we finally got her settled into an excellent facility, and they’re taking really good care of her. That’s made my life a lot easier.”

“I’m glad to
hear that.”

He set down
his glass. “Listen, Cassidy, I didn’t come here to talk about my mom. I came to apologize to you.”

“Apologize? Why?”

“For ending things
the way I did. I should have called you instead of texting.”

She felt a
pang of humiliation at the memory of how he’d broken things off. “Oh, that’s OK.”

“No, it wasn’t
OK. I also want to apologize for basically disappearing on you, especially after I made you feel bad for not wanting to be friends with me. I know that wasn’t fair to you either. From the moment we started talking, you were nothing but kind to me, and you deserved better than that.”

She took a
sip of her wine, not sure how to respond.

He continued. “It’s
just that I got hit by a firestorm. I tried to manage it all, but I wasn’t doing a very good job, so I had to retreat and focus on my family. I know I hurt you because of that, and I’m truly sorry.”

She smiled, albeit
awkwardly, and interlaced her hands on the table. “It’s OK. I understood where you were coming from.” That wasn’t exactly true, but she didn’t want him to know how crushed she’d been, or how much she’d agonized over what she might have done wrong, over what she should have done differently.