Page 10 of Easy Reunion
Chapter 4
Kelsey
The only thing that’s perfect about me is my shoes. They’re fucking gorgeous. Sculpted leather covered in pyramid studs, they make my legs look longer than I ever imagined they could be. And before I walked into the lobby in front of the shitshow of a fifteen-year high school reunion, they made me feel sexy as fuck.
I felt like I could walk in and do precisely what Angel wanted me to do—stride in with my head held high and walk out with people’s souls spiked under my heels.
Now, in a one-shoulder cocktail dress that hugs my curves, I trace the lone name tag on the table with a perfectly manicured finger.
King Kong.
Memories of that being screamed at me from all directions as I walked into class, into the cafeteria, as I walked into that fucking building, swamp me. But none so horrific as the last. Shame sends a burst of heat along my cheeks, brightening their pale blush tone.
“Why did I let myself be talked into this?” I murmur aloud. After casting a look of practiced indifference toward the door, I’m seconds away from snatching up the loathsome, tacky clip when I hear voices behind me.
“Do you think she’ll have the guts to show?”
“Please, if her brain works half as well as her mouth did on food, she won’t even try to board an airplane. I’m sure the airlines have to charge her double anyway.” Juliette Bernard, former head cheerleader, knockout blonde, and the president of my former tormentors, sneers. “I probably wasted the money even having her name printed on the tag. If Kong doesn’t understand by now, she should simply…” Spotting me, she looks me up and down even as my heart beats erratically in my chest. Does she recognize me even though I’m over two hundred pounds lighter?
Her face transforms with a perky smile I want to punch right off. I could; boxing classes taught me a hell of a lot. Instead, I’m momentarily taken aback when she coos, “I adore those shoes. Where did you get them?”
Fortunately, I’ve learned how to deal with my fair share of people just like this. “A little boutique in New York. They’re one of a kind.” My voice is calmer than I would have expected under the circumstances. Maybe Angel was right—maybe I did need to come here to face my demons.
Thoughtfully, she taps her finger against her lips. “I’ll pay you two thousand for them.”
My lips fall open. “Excuse me?”
“They’re divine. I want them. I’ll write you a check right now.” Juliette reaches for her crystal-encrusted clutch.
“You don’t even know what size they are,” I say with more than a touch of disbelief.
Giving me the once-over, she declares, “Even though you’re a bit wider in the hips than I am, I bet we’re close to the same shoe size. An eight, right? So does that amount work? Listen, I’ll even give you my shoes to get back to your room.” She goes to toe off her shoes before I hold up my hand to stop her.
“Stop. They’re not for sale.” I cannot believe the audacity of this woman. A little voice in the back of my mind is nudging me, saying,Maybe it wasn’t just you. Maybe she treats everyone like this. I silence it as I enter a staring contest with a woman who’s been given everything and fears nothing.
Not the least her sanity.
“Everything has a price,” she smirks. The women around her nod; I vaguely recognize them as part of her cheerleading posse from fifteen years ago. Then again, she could have said the next president of the United States was about to be hatched from her stomach as a chartreuse alien and they’d have agreed to it.
I was never so glad as not to be part of the “in” crowd as I dreamed of so many nights as I am right now. I’m ecstatic I have something more substantial, an ability to think for myself. “No, not everything.” I pause before adding, “Breeding and class certainly don’t.”
I arch a perfectly threaded eyebrow as I saunter past the gasping gaggle of women with two thoughts in my mind: a glass of wine and a call to my best friend.
* * *
“I can’t believeI wasted good money on this. It was a fucking farce, Angel.”
“Calm down, Kels. Your flight takes off early tomorrow morning. Darin will pick you up at the airport and bring you right here.”
“I’m so glad I decided not to stay an extra day,” I grumble as I take a sip of the full-bodied pinot grigio in front of me.
“What time will you land?”
“Around one. You know, why don’t I arrange for a car and meet you at the house? This way, Darin won’t have to leave work in the middle of the day to get me.”
I can practically hear the wheels turning on the other end of the line. “It would help,” she agrees. Angel and Darin live in a beautifully refurbished home near Audubon Park. Until I find my new place in the Big Easy, they’ve generously let me move into their guest suite. But I need to find something soon. After all, it won’t be long before their baby arrives and Darin’s family descends to claim the space I’m currently occupying.
I smile widely when I think about how I’m going to spoil this baby from the sister of my heart. Angel has no idea of the things I have planned for her precious Lucille. Being a hands-on aunt to this miracle was what pushed me over the edge to make the final decision to move to New Orleans.
