Chapter 3
Cassidy
One week later…
Ugh, why did I agree to do this today? I ask myself as I attempt to get the last clip-in extension into my hair. The hair I decided to chop off after the disaster of a wedding that was supposed to happen a week ago. Most women chop their hair after their wedding to symbolize a fresh start to their new chapter. Yeah, well, my new chapter drove me straight to the salon to completely chop off every blond strand thanks to the mental breakdown I was having.
Scratch that, still having the mental breakdown as we speak.
I take one more glance in the mirror before releasing a deep breath. “Well, here goes nothing,” I say, as I walk down the stairs to meet Hayley and Brooks.
“Are you sure you’re going to be up for this?” she asks as I slip on a pair of Jimmy Chous. “Honestly, Marcia won’t mind if you cancel.”
She’s right. Marcia wouldn’t mind if I cancelled. She knows what went down over a week ago. Yet, I feel like I have to do this. Plus, I would be letting Vince win if I sat home and sulked like he’s probably thinking I am right now.
“No, I’m fine. I have to read one book and thanks to your book-worthy boyfriend over here and his sidekick, I won’t have to stay the whole time.”
The Book Nook has been my go-to bookstore since I was a little girl. It’s a staple here in Seattle. I remember sitting in the storytime corner, listening intently to some rags-to-riches tale thinking, wishing, daydreaming that one day, my life might actually be like one of the stories.
Yet now I know it was exactly how I thought it would be.
A daydream.
A wish.
“Thank you so much for being a guest reader today, Cassidy. And for bringing along some special guests with you as well,” Marcia says as we prepare the storytime corner for the day.
“It’s an honor to be here,” I say, plastering a fake smile on my face.
If you’d asked me a week ago, I’d be happy to be here, reading some sort of fairytale to a bunch of toddlers. Now, I just want to get it over with so I can go home, crawl into my bed, and pull the covers over my head so I can cry without judgement.
It’s not every day that you find yourself standing at the altar of a church, thinking you’re going to pledge your love for one another. Only to turn around when it’s your turn to read your vows and expose your cheating fiancé’s affair. An affair that had been going on for way longer than I thought. In fact, I’m sure I was the other woman in this situation.
Hayley comes to my side, pulling me close to her. “Are you sure you’re up for this? Brooks and Halloway can do it without an introduction.”
Sandbox love. That’s how far back my friendship with Hayley goes. Mrs. Piazza’s pre-kindergarten class. My family was nowhere near rich, but they clawed and fought their way to get me a scholarship to the best private school in Seattle. The moment Hayley and I met, we clicked. And from that moment on, we were inseparable.
So, she knows me. And though I think I’m keeping it together, I know she sees the truth. I’m broken.
I could get over the breakup. An almost wedding to a guy I’ve known since elementary school. A guy who I was so on and off again for years, I should have expected something like this to happen. I don’t even think I’m upset that it happened. I think I’m more embarrassed I let it get this far.
“All right, littles. Please join me in welcoming our guest reader, Ms. Cassidy,” Marcia says, standing in front of the storytime chair. “Ms. Cassidy works for the Skipjacks. Who here likes hockey?”
A slew of hands pop up as the kids talk over themselves. I would find this quite adorable if it weren’t for the fact that it feels like I lost my one chance at having a family. I’ll never open my heart up to another man.
“1, 2, 3, eyes on me,” Marcia says, grabbing their attention once again. “Let’s let Ms. Cassidy read, because I think she may or may not have brought some special guest readers of her own, with her today.”
Little gasps of excitement spread throughout the group as I stay grounded in my spot. “Go ahead, Reynolds. Get up there and fuel those young imaginations,” Halloway says, coming to my other side and nudging me with his elbow.
I plaster the fake smile on my face and walk to the storytime chair. Taking a seat, I introduce myself to the group of anxious toddlers. I flip over the book Marcia gave me earlier and immediately regret doing this altogether.
Cinderella. A fairytale. A rags-to-riches story. One with a happily ever after. Should be easy enough to get through. Right?
Yeah—not so much.
“Cinderella,” I say, starting to read the book page by page. Slowly and silently choaking on the words as I read them aloud.
“I have found you,” Vince says.
“Um…” a little blonde interrupts as I near the end of the story. “Who’s Vince?”
I stare at her, my cheeks heating in embarrassment as I try to refocus on the story. “I’m sorry. I meant to say, said the prince. Then he whisked her away to his castle where they…” I say, flipping the page, expecting it to say happily ever after, but the final page had been ripped from the book. I drop my head and chuckle. “Well, that’s peachy, now isn’t it?”
“How’s the story end?” a little boy shouts from the back of the room.
And that’s when I snap. Losing the last thread keeping the mental breakdown I’ve been having for the past week in check. I drop the book on my lap as a manic laugh slips past my lips. The tears I had at bay are burning the back of my eyes as I try to calm myself from doing something I know I’m going to regret.
“I’ll tell you how the story ends,” I say, leaning forward, elbows on my knees. “He takes her back to his castle, and he kisses her. And for the first time ever, she finally feels loved,” I say, as a few tears slip past the threshold. “And wanted. But then she sees him knocking boots with the melon lady and before you know it, she’s kicked out of the castle.”
My hands move animatedly as I drop the book to the floor, sitting back in the chair. The kids all stare at me with unreadable expressions on their faces. “Uh… The melon lady?”
“You bet your sweet ass the melon lady,” I say, as I scoot closer to the edge of the chair. “And now, she’s just fixating on every teensy-weensy little thing. All her mistakes. All the money she spent on flights, makeup, blowouts, and clothes,” I say, as I just release every thought running through my head. “Oh, and heels. The heels—let’s not forget about the heels. I’m supposed to walk around on these to make my legs look longer and ass look perkier. Let’s not forget that I’m not supposed to have any hair here,” I say, gesturing all over my body. “But I’m supposed to have tons of it here.” Gripping strands of my hair, I pull at it. Unclipping the extensions I spent hours trying to get right. “Tons of it here. You think this is all real.” Another manic laugh slips past as the kids stare at me horrified as I continue pulling extension after extension from my head. “And Spanx!” I screech out before dropping to my knees and crawling toward the little blonde who interrupted me earlier. “Never wear Spanx. Because at the end of the day, they’re just going to take them off anyway, and then the prince is going to see all your dumplings. And there’s nothing less attractive than trying to shimmy your way out of something that’s basically a human sausage casing.”
I stand up from the floor, moving over to the table next to the storytime chair. Grabbing a pair of scissors, I try cutting the fabric from my body. “Are you kidding me?” I say, lifting the scissors to my line of sight before a very concerned Halloway grasps my wrist.
“Those are kid scissors.”
“Yeah, well, they don’t work.”
“If your Spanx were paper, they would.” He’s finally ripping the scissors from my grasp before turning to see the kids, who are all horrified by what’s happening. “And they all lived happily ever after. That’s how the story ends. Parents, Brooks Miller is up front, giving out free autographs. Sorry about this,” he says, as I continue to make grunt noises behind him wrestling with my Spanx as parents frantically usher their children away from the storytime corner. “And you… hey, hello,” he says, gripping my shoulders tightly. “Reynolds, I need you to chill. You scared all the kids. Terrified some of the parents,” he says, smirking at me as some of the parents who are more pissed than terrified come toward me. “Let’s get you out of here before you get your ass kicked.”
He ushers me toward the back door of the bookstore and down the street to an Irish pub, sitting me down at the bar like I’m a toddler being put in timeout. I should be in timeout. As far as mental breakdowns go…
It was epic.
“What can I get you guys?” the pretty little bartender says as she pushes her breasts toward Halloway a little more than she should.
“Two whiskeys, neat,” he says, avoiding her advances completely. “That was pretty epic what you did back there, Reynolds.”
The bartender places the two drinks in front of us before sulking away. I bring the amber liquid to my lips, welcoming the burn as it slides down the back of my throat. “What can I say… I’m full of epic surprises lately.”
We sip our drinks in silence before he turns to look at me, and I mean really look at me. “I think you need to take that trip like you planned.”
“I told you I’m not going by myself.”
“You won’t be going by yourself,” he says, taking a long pull of his drink. “I decided… I’m going with you.”
He’s kidding, right?
A week in an island paradise with Channing Halloway…
Reliving the moment we had when I first started working for the Skipjacks. He had just been traded and just like Hayley, we clicked instantly. However, it wasn’t in the best friend type of way. It was in the take my breath away type of way, while he slowly walked into a room with the faint sound of Dreamweaver playing behind him. Just like that scene in Wayne’s World.
A week of reliving every touch.
Every moan.
The orgasms.
Yeah, I was hooked on him. But reliving the next morning when we woke up in his hotel room, to himapologizing. Saying it was a mistake and could never happen again.
Friend zoned instantly.
I would rather be back at my wedding than reliving that repeatedly for an entire week in paradise.
“I don’t, but after seeing your little show back there, I want to,” he says, looking at me with determination written all over his face. “Plus, a little RR to get my head right for the season doesn’t sound so bad. So, I’m in. Plus… it was your suggestion.”
My suggestion?
The night of my wedding in the bar. God, me and my big mouth. “Channing, you don’t have to,” I say, downing my drink and ordering another.
“I know I don’t have to,” he says, finishing his drink as the bartender places two fresh ones in front of us. “But I want to. So therefore, I am. When does our flight leave?”
He can’t be serious. I open and close my mouth a few times to tell him he’s completely out of his mind, but one look at him, and I know he’s completely sane. That like any other time in my life when I needed support, he would be there for me. And if that meant going on a week’s vacation to a tropical paradise, sharing a room with me… then so be it.
I push back from my barstool and toss a fifty onto the bar. “Tomorrow morning, 8:55. I’ll call the airline and have the name on the ticket changed. See you then.”
He nods in my direction before downing the rest of his drink. “See you then.”
We follow one another out of the bar before heading our separate ways. The entire way home, I internally freak out thinking how in the next fourteen hours, I’m going to be spending a week with the guy I’ve been crushing on since the day we met.
I just hope it’s not a mistake.
“You’re where?” Hayley says into the phone as I wait at the gate for Channing to arrive.
I’ve spent the whole night packing, wondering if I should pick up the phone and call off this entire trip. It feels like I’m about to make one big, colossal mistake. Not like I can make many more of those… I mean I almost married a guy who would continue to cheat on me regardless of marriage or not. Yet, I can’t help but have this gut feeling that this whole thing could blow up in my face.
“I’m at the airport. I’m taking the trip I had planned for Vince and me,” I say, hoping she just leaves it at that, but I should have known better.
“By yourself?”
Sure, I could lie, yet I know the moment Brooks got wind of Channing’s little vacay, I’d be busted. “No. I’m going with Halloway actually.”
“Cassidy.”
“Before you say anything, this is all purely platonic for me,” I say, hoping she can’t see through my bullshit.
“Cassidy,” she says, pausing for a moment. “Do you think this is a very good idea?”
She knows about Channing and me. In fact, she’s the only one I ever told the truth to about that night with Channing. She saw how it crushed me. So, I can’t blame her for being so cautious.
“It’s fine,” I say, just as the announcer states that our flight is now boarding. “Plus, he’s not even here yet, so I may be going on my own after all.”
“Cassidy… I really don’t think this is a good idea. Let me go with you,” Hayley protests as the announcer states that my group is now boarding.
“Gee. Do you hear that? My flight’s boarding. Gotta go… See ya in a week,” I say quickly before hanging up the phone.
Grabbing my carry on, I walk toward the attendant as she scans my boarding pass. Just as I’m getting ready to walk down the jetway, I stop, walking back to the attendant. “Excuse me, but can you tell me if a Channing Halloway has checked into the flight yet?”
She gives me an annoyed glance before typing away on the keyboard. “No. Sorry,” she says, before looking past me to the next person waiting to board.
Accepting defeat and the possibility that I’ll be spending the next week alone, I walk down the jetway and am shown to my seat in first class. Last night, when I called to change the name on Vince’s ticket, I decided to upgrade to first class. Figured if I’m going to wallow in self-pity, I should do it in more style and comfort.
The flight attendant announces that the doors are closing, and we’re going to taxi down the runway shortly. I guess I really am going on this trip alone. I pull out my earpods and listen to the audiobook I purchased for this trip. I try not to focus on the fact that I’m alone when a warm body plops down in the seat next to me. I pull my earpod out of my ear and look over at a calm-looking Channing. He’s dressed in a pair of Skipjacks athletic shorts and a basic black tee with a baseball hat pulled down over his eyes.
He reaches his hand over and squeezes my thigh as the plane picks up speed down the runway. “I bet you were thinking I was flaking, now didn’t you?”
I open and close my mouth a few times, struggling to find the words, but they don’t come. My mind focuses on the simple touch of Halloway’s hand and the way he traces a figure eight along my bare skin with his thumb sending a wave of heat through my entire body.
“So,” he says, as the plane levels out at cruising altitude. “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the gate, but someone must have told Brooks I was coming on this trip with you, and he had me held up on the phone at security.”
“Funny,” I say, a slight smile forming on my lips. “Hayley had me on the phone at the gate.”
“Really?” he says just as the flight attendant comes by and offers us a glass of champagne.
I take a sip from my glass, letting the fizz from the bubbles dance around my taste buds for a few minutes. Coming on this vacation with Channing is a huge fucking risk. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a risk taker, but something about Channing being here and willing to stray from his usual off-season routine feels different.
“What were Hayley’s words of wisdom? Probably not much different from Brooks, I suppose.”
“She told me not go with you. Said it could damage me more in the end.”
I shouldn’t divulge how being with Channing for a week could damage me. It’s pretty clear no matter how much I thought I moved on from that one night, I haven’t. Clearly, since I’m sitting here watching his mouth curve slightly at the side as he takes a sip from his glass of champagne. God, I just want to lean over and kiss him.
Rein it in, Cass. He doesn’t want you like that. He’s made it clear.
Yet I can’t help but wonder what it would have been like to have Channing fully.
What could have been if he had just given in to our attraction. Our chemistry that night in the hotel room.
Would this trip be our honeymoon?
“Brooks told me if I fucking hurt you, he’s kicking my ass,” he says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “So, here’s to behaving and having a relaxing trip with one another.”
I raise my glass and clink it against his, tossing back the last of its contents as I sink back into my seat. One week. I can handle this, right?
Either that or I’ve completely lost my mind.