“Well, you
know, Devin, she always had a thing for you,” Ruthie said as if it was a known
fact among them all.
“How is she
doing?”
“Fine.”
He paused a
second, a tinge of disappointment settling in his gut with her lack of
elaboration.
“Good.”
There was a
slight pause before she continued. “She's staying at home until Labor Day,
helping her father and me with the move and all. We're having a bit of a bash
for her thirty-fifth birthday. We'd love to have you. Are you
available
?”
The inflection
in her voice rose as to emphasize her double meaning. Same ol' Ruthie.
It wasn't until
faced with the possibility of seeing Cara again that Devin realized he'd give
anything to see her. He punched up his schedule on the computer and
immediately groaned at entries flooding each and every day for the next month.
“Things don't look good, Ruthie. I'm not sure I can get away.”
“Oh, but...what
about the wedding?” she gasped.
“Who's
wedding?”
“Why...yours
and Cara's, of course. You did read the card, didn't you?”
“Yes, but...”
Puzzled by her query, Devin picked up the card again and turned it over in case
he’d missed some important piece of information. The search proved futile.
“Cara will be
thirty-five next week.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Well, then you
know what that means, don’t you?”
He was silent.
“Do you or
don't you intend to honor that contract, young man.”
A grin tugged
at his lips. Although Ruthie's voice held a hint of amusement, he sensed her
taking this line of offense immensely serious.
Knowing in
advance how Ruthie Cavarlho operated, he proceeded with caution. “Ruthie, it’s
not really a contract.”
“It’s in black
and white.”
“Yes, but…it’s
bogus. There was no serious intention of marriage by either of us, no meeting
of the minds. No-”
“Devin, dear,
don’t talk to me in legal mumbo jumbo. I don’t understand a word of it.”
“It was a
joke. It’s not legal.”
“Not legal,”
Ruthie grunted.
There was
silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds. Devin picked up the
ball point pen he'd strangled earlier and started tapping in his desk to fill
in the void.
“Would Cara
know this?” Ruthie finally asked.
“Well, I-”
“I'll bet she
doesn't,” she proclaimed, an undertone of hope resonating in her words. He
could almost hear the wheels in her head spinning triumphantly when she
declared, “What she doesn't know won't hurt her.”
A grin tugged
at his lips. “Ruthie, what are you up to?”
“Nothing. I’m
merely planning a birthday party for my single daughter, and I would love for
you to attend. Is there anything wrong with that?”
“Of course
not.”
“And once
you're here, if things should happen to, how shall we say, fall into place,
then so be it.”
He had to
laugh. It surprised him how good it felt inside. He'd always been a sucker for
Ruthie’s charm and seventeen years of passing time had made no difference.
“Devin
Michaels, you know how fond I am of you. I've never made any bones about
that,” she admitted warmly. “And all these years I have been praying my
daughter would someday find a nice man just like you. So why can’t it
be
you? I know you care for Cara.”
He couldn’t
deny that. But it had never been the way Ruthie had always wanted. What he
and Cara had shared was friendship, nothing more. His whole world with Cara
felt like a lifetime ago. And at the same time, their friendship was so close
to his heart he could almost touch it.
His heart
pounded in his chest and he rubbed the spot that squeezed tight. “I'll see
what I can do,” he conceded, his smile fading. “But I can't make any
promises.”
“Be sure to
bring your tuxedo.”
He heard the
phone click just as Brenda paged him again. “They're waiting for you in the
conference room.”
He cradled the
phone in his palm wondering what the hell had just happened? He couldn’t quite
get a grip on the flood of emotions coursing through him. Dropping the phone,
he fingered the pink slip on his desk with Ruthie Cavarlho's name scribbled on
it for a good long time.
He wanted to
see Cara. More than he could even think right now. There was a time when the
very first person—the only person—he'd seek out was Cara. She'd certainly seen
him through the worst times in his life. And some of the best.
This was it, he
realized. Going back to Westport to reconnect with his best friend was the
medicine he needed help him get his life back on track.
Devin pressed
the intercom button on the panel, suddenly feeling good for the first time in
days. “Cancel,” he said briskly, the rush of excitement from this morning’s
victorious court appearance long forgotten. The excitement of a new battle
took its place.
“I...I beg your
pardon.”
“I said
cancel! Make some excuse, I don't care what it is.” Rubbing his face with his
hand, he drew in a long breath. He couldn't believe he was actually
considering something so foolish, so destructive, putting everything he'd work
so hard for on the line.
All he had to do
was make a few calls and he could catch the next flight. In a matter of hours
he'd be standing face to face with Cara. Something inside him clicked, as if
everything that was laid out before him no longer held any meaning. He knew
what he had to do.
“Cancel the
rest of the day, too. In fact, cancel the month. I'm taking a leave of
absence starting now.”
He heard
Brenda’s slight gasp. “Mr. Michaels, I don't understand-”
“Just do it!
And Brenda, get me my realtor--” His voice broke off, “No, never mind. I'll
take care of that myself.”
He leaned back
in his chair and swung the seat around. Rubbing his chin between his thumb
and index finger, he stared vacantly at the Manhattan skyline. The city he'd
sought out in his youth, that drove him with every beat of his heart, had lost
its magic with a single phone call. The unsettled feeling that had plagued him
for the past few months suddenly lifted and he could finally breathe again. He
was taking a new direction, and it felt great.
Hearing the
buzz from Brenda again, he swung around and saw the light panel on his phone
lit up like a Christmas tree. The grapevine in this office was as fast as a
New York cabby racing from one green light to the next. He could almost hear
the whispering vultures strategically planning his downfall outside his office
door, starting with the moment he walked through it. And suddenly he didn’t
give a damn what they did.
Brenda sounded
again with a repeated buzz that spoke of urgency. If he didn't make a quick
getaway soon, the senior partners were sure to barrel through the doors of his
office in full justifiable protest.
* * *
Cara smiled
regally at the many people inspecting the odds and ends she and her family had
accumulated her entire life and had displayed on their front lawn for purchase.
She was annoyed, to say the least, at their perusal. This was her life they
were scrutinizing!
When had she
gotten so sentimental? Sure, her parents were moving away, selling the home
she loved so much. But she'd left home long ago. Maybe it was just her time
of the month. No, that would mean she had perpetual PMS for feeling the way
she did. Who could possibly endure that?
Or maybe...it
was because Roger, the man she'd been dating for the past year and a half, had
become a fixture she wasn’t sure she wanted to keep in her life. She'd been a
success in business, lived on her own in her Back Bay condo for the past few
years. But this thirty-five thing was beginning to hit home.
She pushed the
thought away, refusing to believe that her internal clock was waging war, and
she was losing the battle.
“Is this real
crystal?” a young woman—still a girl really—asked, holding the carafe Cara had
given her mother as a birthday gift when she was fifteen. Her other arm was
wrapped tightly around the waist of a young man. Amorous glances and giggles
reflected the youth of their love. She wondered if they were newly married,
filling their home with items they would someday put up for sale on their front
lawn.
“Yes,” she
replied shortly, watching the young man knock over a vase. He had a familiar
stand. It took her a moment, but she realized that he reminded her of a young
Devin Michaels.
Funny. Ever
since she found that damned birthday card, her mind wandered until it settled
on Devin Michaels.
“We’ll take
it,” the young man said, smiling affectionately at the girl. After digging
through his wallet, he handed her the amount indicated on the little white tag
Cara had so carefully placed on the bottle the previous evening. With their
hands entwined, the young couple walked away.
That's when she
thought she caught a glimpse of him.
Devin Michaels.
She stood on the
far side of the lawn, squinting from the sun’s harsh rays to focus on the man strolling
through the open white picket gate. A dozen or so people had stopped and
parked along the side of the road and were now leisurely waltzing across her
parents lawn.
The man could
just as easily be someone who lived along the beach, just out for a stroll.
She’d lived away from home so long that she’d lost touch with the comings and
goings of neighbors. It couldn't possibly be Devin just because her mind
suddenly wanted it to be. But as he ambled closer, she knew without a doubt it
was Devin.
A glimmer of
recognition registered on his face when their eyes met, and his mouth tilted to
reveal a perfect smile. Her breath lodged in her throat, and she couldn’t keep
from feeling giddy. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she fought to compose herself.
The years had
been good to him. The lanky boy he once was had filled out in all the right
places. The man sauntering toward her now had wide shoulders and ripples along
his chest, clearly visible beneath his polo shirt, a telltale sign that he
spent time working out regularly. His charcoal eyes had deepened in color,
giving off a masculine power of attraction that seared straight through her.
It wasn't the Devin Michaels that she remembered from her youth, the shy but
funny friend she'd teased so often. He was a man now. Powerful, stunning in
movement and frightening with his dynamic presence all at the same time.
But he was
still Devin Michaels, her childhood buddy.
“Devin,” she
said, catching her breath when he was finally standing before her. She looked
up and noticed the inches he'd grown taller. He was now at least six inches
taller than her five foot seven inch frame.
“Hello, mia
Cara.” The words of endearment rolled off his tongue with ease, sounding as
soothing as the ocean that lulled her to sleep at night. My dear one was the
meaning. Her grandmother had referred to her that way on countless occasions
in her youth, which Devin had teased her about when he'd been privy to hear.
But this time, the pure emotion with which he spoke the simple words cascaded
over her like the incoming tide.
# # #
Cara knew the
face. She knew the name. But, for sure, she did not know this man standing in
front of her. Brushing her sweaty palms on the sides of her jeans, she turned
away from his probing gaze, not believing her eyes. When she turned back and
blinked, Devin Michaels was definitely standing in front of her in the flesh.
What was he
doing back here after all these years?
She opened her
mouth to speak, but the words somehow got lodged in her throat.
His deep rumbling
chuckle made her glance up at him.
“What's so
funny?”
Devin shook his
head slightly and kept his eyes focused on her. “Nothing,” he said.
She knew he was
lying. This time he was teasing her for actually blushing when she'd always
been the one to tease him. She also saw that hidden beneath that scrupulously
constructed veneer he held up like a shield, allowing the world only to glimpse
the dynamic man that he'd become, he was the same Devin she remembered.
Excitement took
hold of her and she couldn't help but laugh herself. “I can't believe you're
really here.”
“Me, too.”
He brushed his
hand over his head, passed the flecks of gray peppering the dark hair at his
temples, until his hand settled at the nape of his neck. He'd gotten older.
So had she. They weren't teenagers anymore like they were the last time they'd
seen each other.
She’d thought
about him often over the years, meant to drop him a card or a phone call, but
then got buried in whatever crisis needed her attention at the time. In the
past few days, he’d been on her mind constantly. But until now, until he was
actually in front of her, she hadn’t realized just how much she truly missed
having him in her life.
Part of her had
the most incredible urge to run to Devin and give him a great big bear hug. But
she kept her distance with the table of salable trinkets wedged between them.
“It's good to
see you, Dev.”
“You, too.”
His dark eyes twinkled ever so slightly as to lift his shield an inch or two,
giving her access to her old friend. He was still there. The same old Devin
she'd know.
He opened his
arms wide. “Come here. This one is way overdue.”
A few quick
strides around the table and he was by her side and then into his arms. His
embrace filled her with tender feelings that brought her back in time, oddly
comforting and unfamiliar at the same time. Cara ignored her foreign feelings
and sank into his hard chest, reveling in the warmth his touch gave her. Cara
forced a deep breath of salted sea air passed the lump forming in her throat.