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

  I elbowed her in the ribs. “Someone or Adam?” I already had my suspicions about her and the new guy in accounting. After running into him at the coffee shop around the corner, he was all Aggie would talk about. And then, last week, she had received flowers from an undisclosed source, making her giddy all afternoon.

  Five more shades of pink landed on Aggie’s cheeks. “Okay, fine. It’s Adam. There, I said it. And you’re the only one who knows I have a crush on him. Which I shouldn’t be having because he’s a widower, and I’m divorced.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s been long enough for both of you.” I gave my friend a once-over and decided right then; my new year’s project would be the Year of Aggie, complete with her head-to-toe makeover. Since her divorce, I believed a tigress existed inside of her, ready for release. A little push in the right direction wouldn’t hurt.

  I glanced at the small stage set up across the lobby. The Maxwells were in full regalia, as if they were royalty, overseeing their chicken land. I knew better. They were ordinary people who built a huge fast-food corporation around chicken patties, with egos that grew, matching their billion dollar bankroll. My stomach churned.

  The bell rang on the elevator behind us, and our lunch buddy, Bridget, stuck her head out. “Come on, you two, it’s time to party.”

  Aggie started, but I hung back. “You go on ahead. I need to finish proofing the last ad.”

  Back at my desk, I tackled the final proofreading with care, despite the pressure of the evening deadline to submit the New Year’s holiday coupon order. Only one more to finish. Constant texts from Aggie didn’t help.

  Aggie: Quit working! You should be down here with me.

  I finished the last grammar tweak for a New Year’s coupon that read “Good for One Chick In Bun filet sandwich at any participating location.”

  Another text appeared as I input my approval code and hit send.

  Aggie: Adam is holding my hand! What should I do?

  I surrendered. Employees flooded the lobby and, with the stage in one corner, maybe I could sneak in and out without notice by the Maxwells. I closed up my computer, then took out my mirror and lipstick for a quick touch-up. They knew me as a brunette way back when, so I doubted they’d recognize me now as a blonde, anyway.

  I took a deep breath before stepping off the elevator. With the stealth of a huntress, I strategically wormed my way through the crowd, keeping my eyes on Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell, who remained on the stage. As long as they didn’t look my way, I was safe.

  Employees caroused together while eating fancy finger foods and drinking non-alcoholic beverages. People were carrying on as if they liked each other and didn’t mind partying together, when I was certain they really wanted to catch their usual trains home and start the holidays with their real friends and family.

  I dodged a tuxedo-suited server carrying a tray of bacon-wrapped shrimp in puff pastry while glancing around for my coworkers. Aggie appeared exactly where I expected her, cozying up to Adam next to the dance floor. I found him pudgy for my tastes, but he had cute dimples when he smiled and sweet brown eyes hidden behind nerdy glasses. His look screamed ‘loyalty,’ and next to Aggie, with her brown hair in a tight bun held in place with a pencil, along with oversized glasses, they looked made for each other.

  “Some party this is,” I yelled over the noise.

  Aggie moved her fawning eyes off of Adam and, with a knowing grin, said, “Oh, it’s super.”

  Adam leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Her lips formed an O, and she hid a giddy smile. I couldn’t have missed his nod toward the lobby restrooms. Aggie turned to me, attempted conversation, but I knew the game all too well.

  “So, um . . . what did you say you’re doing for the holidays?” Her eyes fixated on Adam as he stalked to the bathrooms.

  “Oh, go on, girl, leave me all alone. If you want to make out with Adam in the bathroom of a chicken company, be my guest. I mean, I’d prefer more comfortable surroundings like, oh I don’t know, maybe a bed, but to each their own.” I rolled my eyes in mock exasperation and took on a chastising tone. But in reality, I was happy for her. After her prick-of-a-husband left her for another woman, her confidence needed the boost of attention from a good man. From what I could tell, Adam could be one of the nice guys who would treat her right.

  Aggie worried. “Oh, what the hell am I doing? I like him. We’ve been talking every night for the past week, and he wants me to meet his family over the holiday weekend. What should I do?” She dropped her face into her hands. This woman needed my help, and I was all too happy for the job.

  “Tell me what you like about him.” I took her hair out of her bun and finger-fluffed it so it flowed around her shoulders.

  She smiled with a faraway look. “He’s so nice to me and makes me laugh all the time. My ex was drier than toast.”

  Aggie had a delicate figure, but you couldn’t tell under the layers of clothing. I took her belt off and cinched it over her sweater at the waist—instant waist definition. I doubled over the waistband of her skirt, bringing the hemline up above her knees. The woman also had gorgeous legs she never showed off, thanks to the wrong hemline of every dress she wore. I stepped back, admiring my work. For a makeover on the fly, I did as well as I could. Merry Christmas to you, Adam.

  I took her by the shoulders. “Now, be a good girl. Kisses only and leave him wanting more. And yes, go with him to meet his parents.” After a hug and a friendly push toward the restrooms, her smile beamed ear to ear. I had a feeling the smile would still be on her face come Monday morning. And maybe the two of them together as a couple in the new year would bring hope to the thousands of single ladies out there.

  Not me. No, I had my once-in-a-lifetime love, and it didn’t last. But seeing a friend like Aggie find love made me feel gooey inside.

  With the party in full swing, bodies moved to the music. Even Mr. Maxwell twirled his wife on stage. The acquisition of Tater Spud seemed like a shining moment for Chick In Bun. I’d worked so hard, and maybe there was something to what Aggie said. It’s not often the company throws a party, so I should take advantage of it and have a drink, even a non-alcoholic one.

  I approached the long glass bar that looked like wet ice, glancing twice before leaning my elbows on it. In the wall behind the makeshift bar, a mirror reflected images of the other people nearby. Matilda was one of them. Holding court with a few corporate-level men at the other end of the bar, she smiled and carried on as if her dominance over them became the whole point of the party. I watched in awe as her coiffed dark hair swished and bounced as she spoke animatedly, pausing now and then, laughing at something the man next to her said. What it took to break the glass ceiling remained a mystery to me, but I kept an eye on everything Matilda did.

  The bartender appeared before me, grabbing my attention. “Hey, gorgeous. Can I interest you in a white wine or maybe sex on the beach?” His lips twitched, and he placed a napkin in front of me. He was cute, in a college-guy-home-for-the-weekend sort of way.

  “Sex on the beach, of course.”

  A glass of club soda with lime appeared before me a minute later, and he winked. I brought the glass to my lips and watched him stare as I took a sip and licked my lips.

  “Mm. Nice fruity, drink.” The carbonated water tickled my nose.

  His mouth pulled up into one of those sexy half-smiles, sort of daring, sort of teasing. My interest in him multiplied as he served other employees soda or water. It was the holidays, after all, and I remained unattached. And the more I stared, the hotter he got. The man worked out for sure, and my eyes honed in on his biceps, straining at the seams of his sleeves.

  Honestly, I’d been too busy working my way up the corporate ladder, plus building my own Instagram influencer biz on the side, for any real thought or effort about dating.

  Which reminded me, I should post about the party. I pulled out my phone and looked for a picture worthy location.

 
The cutie behind the bar returned. “Perfect timing. I was about to ask for your name and number. Maybe we could get together sometime?” He pulled his phone from his pocket.

  Cute, but cocky. Why was it I often attracted the cockiest men, especially since I converted from brunette to blonde? “Nice try. I was going to snap a photo of the festivities for my Instagram,” I yelled back.

  “I’m Hank, and you are?”

  “I’m Cass.”

  He dried his hands on a bar towel and held up his palm. “Allow me?”

  I shrugged and handed my phone over. Moving to the nearest flocked tree, I posed. I put one hand on the curve of my waist, rolled my shoulder back, popped out my hip, and turned up my chin. The hours of bathroom posing torture inflicted on myself worth every second just to copy how other famous Instagram influencers posed.

  “Say cheese.” Hank eyed me up and down and took a few photos. But before he handed it back, he texted himself from my phone, and then he picked up his own phone and texted me.

  He had balls. I read the texts.

  Me: Hey Hank.

  Hank: Call me for a hookup.

  Damn. Everything was going pretty well, and Hank might have had a chance at a holiday date with me until the cheesy text. I didn’t do hookups, but why did it seem like half the male population of Boston did? Thankfully, he got called over to the other end of the bar.

  I looked through the three photos, selected the best one, and captioned it “Just flocking around.” As soon as I hit post, something struck me about the photo. Enlarging it, I almost dropped my phone. My hands trembled at the photo staring back at me. Between the trees behind me appeared the face of a man I knew.

  Bronson Maxwell, the first love of my life.

  Five years of maturity had chiseled his face, and his dirty blond hair seemed shorter than I remembered, but his eyes, his lips . . . unmistakably Bronson.

  I didn’t dare look behind me. I looked straight ahead at my reflection in the glass behind the bar, my blonde hair shining in the light. Bronson knew me as a mousy college student with my natural brunette locks. The woman who stared back at me embraced a confident outlook who had worked her butt off after graduating from college and gained a job with this large corporation. I also discovered blonde was my superpower and made regular trips to the salon at five-week intervals while maintaining my gorgeous mane. Maybe, with any luck, he didn’t recognize me.

  I turned slightly and glimpsed Bronson moving toward me. I was wrong. The blonde wasn’t enough of a mask. My flight instinct took over.

  Hank yelled after me, “Text me.”

  I ignored him and pushed my way through the crowds across the lobby, heading toward the doors.

  4

  Heart Racing

  Bronson

  The Chick In Bun party in full swing around me suddenly moved in slow motion when I saw her. It was Cassidy. I knew it. I hadn’t seen her in five years, but I wouldn’t forget her face. She could change the color of her hair all she wanted with pints of blonde coloring, but it would never erase my memory of her beautiful face. A face that once exuded pure sweetness and love back at me, forever etched on my brain in permanent marker.

  I made a mess of things between us five years ago. I was stubborn. No, I was an asshole. She didn’t deserve the tormented soul I had become after our accident together. She didn’t deserve the way my parents treated her the entire time we were dating.

  Now I’m back in America and I stumbled upon her again at this party. And everything inside of me screamed for a recalibration, a righting of the wrongs, setting the record straight. I needed closure. That was all.

  I moved toward the bar, but Cassidy took off across the lobby. My eyes strained to follow her when I heard my name being called, and Matilda blocked me.

  “Mmm, Bron, I’m so glad to see you. And, when can I see you?” She ran a finger, not so discreetly, from my chest to my navel.

  “Not here and not now,” I growled at her, brushing her hand off me.

  “Say when. I’m eager to resume our one-on-one sessions.”

  She was a problem I would have to deal with later.

  I rushed away and spotted Cassidy again, but someone else grabbed my arm, pulling me around.

  “You don’t want to miss the big announcement, little brother,” Kelly yelled above the noise and pulled me to the stage. I looked back at Cassidy, finding her frozen in her tracks, her attention diverted by my father as he tapped the microphone at the podium on stage.

  “Are we live? Oh, yes! Can you hear me?” The music died down, and all eyes went to the stage where Dad appeared in a tailored custom three-piece suit with my mother right behind him in the latest Chanel gown, looking as if they were on a presidential stage. “Hi, I’m Buck. How is everyone tonight?” The crowd laughed. Of course they knew Buck, at least they should. Our life-sized family portrait hung high on the atrium wall of the lobby for all to pay homage to every single day. “On behalf of my wife and family, we are grateful for all of you. I have a special announcement tonight.”

  I hardly heard another word. My eyes zeroed in on Cassidy, and my heart begged Buck Maxwell to not be long-winded. As soon as he made the announcement, I could do the one thing I wanted; find her and talk to her. What was she doing here? Why was my heart racing?

  Cassidy both watched the stage and inched closer toward the doors when the crowd would let her through. Another ten feet, and she’d be out of the building. My anxiety shot through the roof while Dad milked every second of stage time in front of his employees.

  Buck continued, “And with the new acquisition of Tater Spud, we’re heating up the fast-food wars. It also means we need new leadership at the helm here in America overseeing things. I’m proud to announce that my son, Bronson Maxwell, will be the new CEO of American operations at Chick In Bun.” The crowd erupted, and I jumped on the stage to shake Dad’s hand.

  “Say a few words, Son,” he boomed into my ear.

  Cassidy froze before the doors. Mic in hand, I needed to say something, anything, while she listened because I knew I wouldn’t get to the door in time to stop her from leaving. I looked only at her, ignoring the other five hundred heads staring at me.

  “Thank you. I’m honored. As many of you know, five years ago, I wasn’t prepared to take on this role. But I’ve changed. I’ve become a better man.” I meant each word for her, the woman who came into my life in college. If I was honest with myself, I’d admit she’d never left my heart. Time may have passed, dulled the pain of our breakup, but the memory of our life together before that never left.

  “I’m here to do what’s right. I intend to work hard and together, if you give me a chance, I know we can succeed. Thank you.” I practically threw the microphone at Buck and jumped from the stage. Throngs of employees rushed me, shaking my hand, making my progress through the crowd difficult. With the benefit of being a six-foot-two guy and my head above the crowd, I watched Cassidy push out through the lobby doors and turn left down the sidewalk.

  I rushed through the doors as soon as I could get there. Once on the sidewalk, I strained my neck. I knew she wore a red sweater dress and black knee-high boots. Yes, in the five seconds I saw her inside, I noticed everything about her, including what she wore. I spotted red at the end of the block, about to turn left around the corner of the expansive Chick In Bun building.

  I sprinted, thankful the sidewalk stood clear of ice and snow. The accident may have left my hand damaged, but my legs were in perfect shape for a run. It wasn’t long before I caught up with her and swung her around by her elbow.

  “Hey!” she shrieked, the fear in her eyes going from a-mugger-has-me to one of hateful recognition.

  “It’s me. It’s okay.” I let go of her elbow and put my hands in the air because the look in her eyes told me she wasn’t ready for us to be anything more than exes who hadn’t talked in five years. She hugged herself and rubbed her arms while a chilly breeze whipped between the skyscraper
s. It mirrored the look she sent my way.

  I puffed out clouds, trying to catch my breath. “What are you doing here? Do you know someone at the party?”

  “I work here, in marketing.”

  My eyes bugged out of their sockets, and couldn’t comprehend why she would work at the company my parents owned.

  She muttered something, likely disdain for me under her breath, and walked a few feet to the side door of the Chick In Bun building. She flashed a card from the holder around her neck and pulled the door open with a fierceness that didn’t scare me away.

  Nothing could keep me from following her. I needed answers, and I needed her to understand my intentions. I lunged for the door and launched myself inside before it closed.

  “Cassidy, we need to talk.”

  I’m not sure why I had sudden difficulty focusing on my own feet while her ass shimmied in front of my view, step by step. Even in her boots, she hiked up the stairs quickly, and I chased away any wild thoughts. She stopped on the third set of stairs, and she wasn’t out of breath yet.

  “No, we don’t. I’m perfectly fine continuing my life without ever having to speak with you again.”

  “But I’m going to be in the office now, every day. In fact, I’ll be working closely with the marketing department to reposition all the new launch materials for Tater Spud. We should talk things out so we can at least have a working relationship.”

  She glared at me in what looked like a poisonous mixture of defeat and defiance, anger and heat blasting from her baby-blue eyes. It all cut into me like a serrated edged knife.

  “Why did you come back?”

  “It was a business decision at first. I led the acquisition, so it made sense for me to be the CEO. Besides, I was tired of Europe and ready to come home, and Buck wants me to take charge so he can slow down. But now I’m here and you’re here—maybe there’s an even greater reason all of this fell into place.” My eyes fell to her hand, resting inches away from mine on the handrail. It took all my willpower not to reach for it.