That Was Then: A Second Chance Romance (Fated Loves Book 2) Read online

  That Was Then

  Fated Loves: Book Two

  Zee Irwin

  CER Creative Company Publishing

  That Was Then, The Fated Loves Series-Book Two

  Copyright ©2021, Zee Irwin, CER Creative Company Publishing, and its affiliates and assigns and licensors.

  The right of Zee Irwin and CER Creative Company Publishing to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from the publisher and copyright owner, nor otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this publication are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Editing and Proofreading by Brandi Zelenka of MyNotesInTheMargins.com

  Editing and Proofreading by Alison Dover of alidoverediting.com

  Cover design by Stacy Garcia at Graphics by Stacy

  Published by:

  Zee Irwin/CER Creative Company Publishing

  Visit zeeirwinauthor.com

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Match Made in Heaven

  Cassidy Masters

  Chapter 2

  The Maxwell Reunion

  Bronson Maxwell

  Chapter 3

  Totally Flocked

  Cassidy

  Chapter 4

  Heart Racing

  Bronson

  Chapter 5

  Vodka Required

  Cassidy

  Chapter 6

  In Need of a Distraction

  Bronson

  Chapter 7

  Night With Hank, Part One

  Cassidy

  Chapter 8

  Night With Hank Part Two

  Bronson

  Chapter 9

  A Cozy Christmas

  Cassidy

  Chapter 10

  My Weakness

  Bronson

  Chapter 11

  One Feel

  Cassidy

  Chapter 12

  I Love You, Buddy

  Bronson

  Chapter 13

  The Man Cave

  Cassidy

  Chapter 14

  Neutral Location

  Bronson

  Chapter 15

  The Box

  Cassidy

  Chapter 16

  The Mess of Matilda

  Bronson

  Chapter 17

  Babe Ruth in Bits

  Cassidy

  Chapter 18

  Priceless

  Bronson

  Chapter 19

  Roadside Assistance

  Cassidy

  Chapter 20

  Going For It

  Bronson

  Chapter 21

  Catch of the Century

  Cassidy

  Chapter 22

  The Mess of Matilda, Part 2

  Bronson

  Chapter 23

  New Year’s Eve

  Cassidy

  Chapter 24

  Dealing with Dad

  Bronson

  Chapter 25

  New Year’s Eve Part 2

  Cassidy

  Chapter 26

  Reunited at Midnight

  Bronson

  Chapter 27

  Second Chance Valentine’s

  Bronson

  Chapter 28

  Later That Year . . .

  Bronson

  Bronson’s Baby

  Bonus Scene

  Bronson

  Time Stood Still

  Prequel: Cassidy & Bronson

  This Is Fate, Fated Loves: Book One

  Preview: Chapter 2

  Maddie McComber

  All This Time, Fated Loves: Book Three

  Preview: Chapter 1

  Lily Young

  All This Time, Fated Loves: Book Three

  Preview: Chapter 2

  Jace Delfino

  Also by Zee Irwin

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  To lost loves everywhere:

  When pieces of your heart are on the floor, all you need is hope, and a lot of tape.

  Fated Loves Series

  Fated Loves Series:

  Book One: This Is Fate

  (Book One Short: When Buddy Met Honey)

  Book Two: That Was Then

  (Book Two prequel: Time Stood Still)

  Book Three: All This Time

  Book Four: All My Love

  Book Five: TBD

  More novels to come in the Fated Loves series

  1

  Match Made in Heaven

  Cassidy Masters

  What happened when a Tater Spud met a Chick In Bun? Were they an instant match? Love at first sight? Did Fate have a personal hand in making two things so perfect for each other? These thoughts plagued me as I doodled all over my pink notepad paper in teal green ink while listening to our bitch of a boss, Matilda Grant, as she droned on and on to the entire marketing team.

  “We must hit this new campaign out of the ballpark. I cannot express to you enough how important this is.” She used her usual dramatic emphasis on every word.

  Thirty of us crammed into the boardroom of the internationally acclaimed Chick In Bun chain of restaurants. The news of their latest acquisition of the fast food competitor, Tater Spud, had the building of five hundred employees buzzing.

  “This acquisition increases the company’s franchised locations to thousands across the world. We need a stellar marketing campaign to support the Valentine’s Day launch, including social media, commercials, advertisements—everything, and we only have a short window of planning before our external team takes over. We’ve hired the best team in the business for the television commercial production and other assets. You have the briefs in front of you. By this time tomorrow, I want ideas coming back to me.”

  A quick motion of her hand toward the door of the boardroom dismissed us. We lumbered out, my peers grumbling about the workload and about not getting paid enough for this. Then I heard my name.

  “Cass, can you stay, please?” Matilda called me.

  What was happening? Had I done something wrong? I watched my coworkers leave the room with relief on their faces. My work BFF, Aggie, mouthed, “Oh no.” I shrugged my shoulders back at her. I reviewed the past week in my head, making sure I had dotted all the i’s and crossed all the t’s.

  Matilda’s daily routine consisted of demeaning at least one intern a day with her high-pitched demands. She probably practiced being a bitch in front of the mirror in the bathroom.

  While I wasn’t an intern, but a rung or two up the steps of the corporate ladder, I wasn’t immune to her scrutiny. Here I stood in front of her, beckoned, fearful, but I pulled my shoulders back and faced her with a smile.

  “You’ve made efficient work of handling the coupon designs lately. And your suggestions for process improvement have impressed me. I see some real potential in your ideas, Cass.”

  What? A compliment from my boss? “Oh. Okay. Thank you.”

  “Anytime you have an idea, tell me. We’re all in this together, right?”

  Maybe I’d misjudged Matilda. “Thank you. Well, um, I have some ideas about the Tater Spud
commercials.” I didn’t know where the gumption came from, but I said it now and couldn’t take it back.

  “Oh yeah? Let’s hear them.” Matilda crossed her arms, sat on her hip at the boardroom table, and waited. She crossed her legs, showing off an enviable pair of Louboutin nude pumps. I feared her, but I salivated over her outfits daily.

  Finally, this was my chance to shine. With thirty people on the marketing staff, getting noticed proved a challenge. After two years of making myself useful, showing up early, and volunteering for assignments, maybe my efforts at gaining Matilda’s favor paid off.

  “Well, since the launch takes place on Valentine’s Day, I thought, why not do a series of ads where the Tater Spud meets and dates the Chick In Bun? You know, like a satire of a romance theme? The ads could show them going on dates, falling in love, even getting married, and customers can help us celebrate their union—Tater Spud acquired by Chick In Bun—by purchasing the new Perfect Match Combo Meal.” I ended with a smile and paused, expecting Matilda’s head to explode from all this creative genius I shared with her.

  Her head flew back, producing a sound like a shrill, maniacal, hacking kind of laugh, as if the Wicked Witch’s and hers combined, creating a whole new cackle unknown to the world before now. I giggled at her, then with her, and we carried on for about a minute. Her laughter was a good sign, right? Matilda regained her composure and dabbed at the laugh-tears in her eyes.

  “A French fry and a chicken patty fall in love? Not what we have in mind. It seems rather immature. But, you know what? Why not? Draw out those ideas by tomorrow—don’t share them with anyone. The experience will be lovely for you, so put these on a storyboard, and I’ll give you some feedback for improvement.” Matilda walked to the door and gestured me out of the room. “Oh, and Cass? Keep up the excellent work.”

  While not a total fail, I walked on clouds the rest of the day, replaying Matilda’s praise and believing I finally gained a mentor.

  Aggie waited for me at my desk to hear the news. “I can’t believe what a break this was for you. I swear, in my five years here, not once has Matilda given me any encouragement. Good for you, Cass. Maybe a promotion will result from this.”

  I frowned. Aggie had more talent than any of us for copywriting, but she didn’t put herself out there, so she remained almost invisible on the team.

  “Well, if I go up, we all go up. I’m not the type of person who leaves my besties behind.”

  At the moment, relief spread through me. My job security resided in stark contrast to where it was a few years ago. I landed interview after interview in Boston, but always passed up. And the reason? I had no experience. I held down two diner hostessing jobs after graduating with my degree. Of course, I had no experience in marketing. Wasn’t the whole point of getting a job to gain experience? Then one night, at a pub, a chance meeting with a headhunter resulted in an interview at Chick In Bun the following week.

  I wanted interview practice and never thought in a million years Matilda would hire me. When she did, I took a gigantic risk accepting the position. I told myself it’d be short term, only long enough to benefit my resume with experience, then move on. Not that I wasn’t grateful for my time at Chick In Bun, but the longer I worked there, the greater the risk of being found out. I lived in constant worry that the past would catch up to me.

  2

  The Maxwell Reunion

  Bronson Maxwell

  Standing on Louisburg Square looking up at the Maxwell mansion on Beacon Hill should have felt like coming home. The federal-style freestanding mansion, constructed in red brick, with gleaming tall sash windows and exterior shutters, and an elaborate double front door of glass and iron, was a beauty. Growing up, it was odd finding people standing outside gaping at the home in all its eighteenth-century classical architectural glory.

  While the outside of the home shouted, “Look, I’m still standing, all these years later,” the inside screamed a different message. I sucked a fortifying breath into my lungs, knowing family drama waited for me on the other side of the front door. After removing my shoes in the entryway, I trod down the hall toward voices and the sounds of children laughing. My niece and nephew cut me off in the hallway by jumping out of the sitting room.

  “You can’t catch me!” Marie brandished a Star Wars figurine over her pale blonde head and taunted Michael while she skipped down the hall.

  “Give it back, meanie!” Michael shouted at his little sister and continued the chase, until I grabbed him and threw him up in the air. “Uncle Bron! Uncle Bron!”

  “Hey, Slugger, look how much you’ve grown in a few months.” I held him close, then eyed my sister in the doorway.

  Michael threw his arms around me. “What’s a slugger?”

  “A baseball player who hits home runs every time at bat. Like you will someday, right?” I tickled him until he roared with giggles. Being an uncle on a more regular basis was one of the best reasons for returning to Boston.

  “Well, look who’s back. The golden boy,” Kelly greeted me, her icy tone matching the pretentious decor of the mansion.

  “Yeah, I missed you too, sis.” I ignored her sarcasm and gave her a peck on the forehead, anyway.

  I turned my attention to the more important Maxwell woman in the room. “Mom, is it possible you look ten years younger than when I saw you in London three months ago?” It was a genuine compliment. While my father focused his entire life on the Chick In Bun business, my mother spent an equal amount of hours between the gym and her plastic surgeon.

  “My boy. It’s wonderful having you back in the States for good.” She tugged at my hair, which from the look in her eyes meant she disapproved of the length. Formalities over, she launched into the one topic I dreaded most.

  “Now, I want your calendar cleared at least two nights a week. I have a matchmaker working full time to find you the best prospects for a wife. I have her searching beyond Boston, because, well, a broader pool of women to consider might be best.”

  “What’s a matchmaker?” Michael asked. I swung him from my forearm like he was a baby monkey and I was the tree.

  “It’s someone who takes away your freedom, kid. And don’t let anyone do that.” I put him down and swatted him away while Kelly and Mom scrunched their faces at me. “What? I’m kidding.”

  Only half. After my last visit, when Mom brought up this idea of a matchmaker, I thought I’d made it clear I could find myself a wife. As much as I itched for my trust fund at thirty, payable only upon marriage, I would not settle for anyone unless they rocked my world.

  “Come on, Mom, what’s the hurry? I just got back to town. Let me breathe a little. Give me some time to acclimate to Boston again, okay? Besides, I think I can find my own dates, thanks.”

  Exasperated, she addressed my father, but he glued his eyes to a tablet at the breakfast table. “Buck, do you hear this? Don’t you agree our son should take this seriously?” Not waiting for his answer, she turned back to me. “I hardly think your past choices in girlfriends have lived up to the standards of this family. And what’s wrong with matchmaking? It’s how your father and I met.”

  Exactly. My eyes darted between them, not saying what I thought of their match. Changing subjects. “So, Dad, when do we make the big announcement?”

  Buck Maxwell, stoic as ever, handed me the tablet with the latest corporate update about the acquisition of Tater Spud. He headed toward his study, expecting I’d follow him. No words. Only work. It was all he ever cared about. So much for the welcome wagon.

  It had been nice the past five years, being a few thousand miles away in London. Back home only one day, and already family pressures crowded me. I could already see I would need new, more fortified boundaries, or else I’d get pulled back under family control.

  3

  Totally Flocked

  Cassidy

  At five o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon, the corporate headquarters of Chick In Bun should have been emptying with people heading h
ome, but energy flowed through the building, awakening the halls with Christmas music pumping from the DJ below. Humming to the tune of Rocking Around the Christmas Tree, I left my desk in the third-floor marketing department and joined my work BFF at the railing, craning my neck and spying on the lobby below where the festivities had been in full swing for an hour.

  The five-story, open-air atrium of the lobby shimmered. Over the past two weeks, decorators had transformed it into a winter wonderland complete with a billion white twinkle lights. Tall, flocked, and lit trees of all sizes lined the walls and created pathways through the lobby floor as if a snow-covered pine forest had grown there overnight. I already knew the first week of January would be bleak when the lobby returned to its former cold corporate atmosphere.

  “I’m almost done for the day. If I hurry, I can make the five o’clock subway.” I looked forward to four days off, a couple of them spent with my family in Cape Cod for Christmas.

  Aggie’s hips bounced to the music. “Are you kidding? Cass, I’ve worked here five years and not once has the company thrown a party for us. I won’t miss this.”

  “I think I’ll pass. I’m pretty tired after working on these coupon deadlines all week.”

  “What? You can’t leave me. Besides, someone from Accounting is saving us a spot near the dance floor.” Aggie’s face turned a healthy shade of pink, matching her frumpy pink turtleneck. I loved the woman to death, but who wore pink at Christmas?