Unforeseen Read online

  “Oh, sure,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s our anniversary–10/19.”

  “Isn’t that sweet,” I said with a phony gag.

  “Whatever, fucker,” he said, flipping me the bird.

  Once I was finally in the phone, I scrolled through Brooke’s contacts and quickly took a screenshot of Cassidy’s information. I sent myself a text before deleting the evidence from the phone. Then I entered my mom’s contact information–partly to cover my tracks in case Rich ever asked Brooke about it, and partly because it really was just a smart idea.

  Just as I was sliding Brooke’s phone back onto the counter, she entered the room and immediately coiled herself around her husband. He pulled her in for a kiss and the two began making out in front of me like two love-struck teenagers.

  Rolling my eyes, I cleared my throat in hopes of subtly reminding them they weren’t alone. Now that I’d accomplished my mission there really wasn’t any reason to stay. If I wanted to keep my friend, I should probably let him relieve his problem down below. “Well, I think that’s my cue to leave. I’ll let you two newlyweds get back to it,” I chuckled, turning toward the door.

  “Don’t leave on our account. We don’t mind putting on a show. We could probably teach you a thing or two. Right, Sweets?” he said, looking down at a now mortified Brooke.

  “Oh my god! No,” she squeaked in embarrassment.

  “Don’t pay any attention to him, Brooke! I never have,” I said, turning to exit.

  I slid into my car and immediately opened the text message that I’d sent to myself from Brooke’s phone. Pondering for a moment about whether to call or text Cass, I finally settled on calling her as it seemed like a more personal approach. It’d been years since I’d asked anyone out on a date, and I was starting to feel like I stunk at it.

  I punched in her numbers, and waited for a moment before finally hitting send. Waiting for what seemed like eternity, Cass finally picked up the call.

  “No, I’m not interested in buying your cutlery, consolidating my loans, or hearing about the terms of the exotic vacation I’ve supposedly just won. Please take this number off your call log, and don’t ever call me again!” she shouted through the line.

  “Cassidy, it’s Blake Mit . . .” Before I had a chance to tell her my full name, she continued with her tirade.

  “I don’t care what your name is, asshole. I’m not interested in sending five thousand dollars to an offshore bank account.” Before I could even get another word in, I heard a click. She’d hung up. It was on to plan–what was it now–Plan C? So much for the more intimate approach–I guess I’d have to send her a text message. Here’s to hoping she even opens it.

  Blake: Hey Cass, it’s Blake Mitchell–Rich’s best friend. We met last week at the wedding. But, you probably knew that . . . I just tried calling, but you thought I was a telemarketer. Anyways, I’m still in Michigan for just a few more days, and I was hoping you’d reconsider and have dinner with me?

  Hitting send, I waited for a few minutes hoping she would respond. Several minutes passed, and my text went unanswered. Just as I was about to give up, the phone dinged beside me.

  Cassidy: Hi, Blake. I’m sorry that I hung up on you. How’d you get my number?

  She didn’t refuse my dinner date, but she didn’t accept it either. In order to not sound like I was waiting for her response, I decided to head back to the hotel. Once I’d made the ten-minute drive back to the Holiday Inn, I quickly typed out a response.

  Blake: I’m an investigative reporter. I’ve been able to dig up much more difficult numbers than yours. ;) I noticed you didn’t refuse my request for dinner. Does that mean you’ve changed your mind?

  Immediately, I noticed the three little dots dance across my screen. I smiled, knowing she’d been waiting for my reply.

  Cass: Brooke caved and gave it to you, huh? I didn’t even realize they were home yet. Looks like I’m going to have some explaining to do.

  Blake: Still avoiding my question, I see. And, no, Brooke didn’t willingly give me your number. Neither one of them know anything so you won’t have to do any explaining. We’ll just keep our dinner between us for now if you’d like. What time should I pick you up?

  Cass: I’m sorry, Blake. I haven’t changed my mind. My answer is still no. It was great meeting you last week, and I hope you and your kids have a safe flight back to New York. G’night.

  Reading her response, I let out an audible sigh. This girl was frustrating. She was definitely playing hard to get. Good thing I like a good challenge. Game on, Miss Carpenter–game on.

  Cassidy

  IT’D BEEN OVER a month since I’d heard from Blake. I know I’d turned him down after he’d asked me out twice, but I guess I was hoping he would’ve tried harder. When he’d texted me, I’d so desperately wanted to accept his invitation, but I knew it just wasn’t right. Even if we were to give dating a try–it just wouldn’t work. We’d have so many obstacles to overcome–three children, a deceased wife, and my irrational fear of commitment. Not to mention, the nearly five-hundred miles between us.

  Blake may not understand why I turned him down, but I was protecting myself. I’d let someone in before, and he’d left me broken. I just wouldn’t allow it to happen again.

  Since I was a little girl, I’d always loved fairy tales–especially the happily-ever-afters when Prince Charming married his princess and swept her off her feet to ride off into the sunset. It was probably why I’d made my career in the wedding industry. I just loved creating the perfect fantasy for my brides.

  I’d always been known as the fun, witty, sassy, and sarcastic girl throughout high school and college, but I was also the hopeless romantic. I wanted nothing more than to be swept off my feet. And, that’s exactly what Steve Jackson did. He was a few years older, handsome and suave. We’d only dated for a short time, but I’d fallen and fallen hard. Everyone warned me to slow down–even Brooke had her reservations. She’d told me he seemed demanding, but I suppose I’d been blinded by love.

  I’d been staring at the clock for the last forty-five minutes waiting for my last client of the day to decide on white or pink roses. After going back and forth for what seemed like forever, she finally picked yellow carnations. It was nearing eight o’clock and I needed to get to the pharmacy before closing. I was a week late, and even coffee wasn’t enough to keep me awake these last few days. I was 99.9 percent certain I was pregnant.

  After taking the test, the two pink lines confirmed my suspicions. I was nervous yet excited all at the same time. I knew it wasn’t ideal because Steve and I had only been dating for two months, and we hadn’t discussed marriage yet, but I knew he wanted a future with me. I couldn’t have been more wrong.I called Steve right away, hoping to tell him my news over dinner. I was feeling too nauseous to cook, so I’d ordered Chinese food and had it delivered. The smell of the egg rolls alone sent me running to the bathroom which is where Steve found me–not the ideal fairy tale.

  “What are you doing on the bathroom floor?” he questioned.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” I asked, resting my head in my palms.

  “Well, I hope you’re not contagious. I wish you would’ve told me you were sick. I definitely would’ve postponed dinner,” he grumbled. “The sex isn’t going to be any good if you’re weak and lethargic.”

  Looking up at him, I could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth–especially given my current state. I’d never heard him act so crassly before. He wasn’t the most romantic, or chivalrous but I just assumed my expectations had always been too high.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not contagious,” I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “But, it’s good to know that you only come over for the sex, though.” I may have felt like shit, but I wasn’t going to let him talk to me like that.

  “Oh, you’re feeling better then? And, you know I love that sassy mouth of yours–especially when it’s wrapped tightly around my cock. Why don’t we
get you cleaned up and in the shower,” he said, beginning to unzip his pants. Don’t get me wrong, I did envision some pretty amazing sex tonight, but I wanted it to be in celebration.

  “Steve! Stop for a minute, there’s something I need to tell you,” I said. After pausing for a moment, I blurted out the news, “I’m pregnant.”

  “You’re what?” he questioned, his eyes darkening.

  “Pregnant,” I said, a bit louder this time.

  “You slut! Who’s the father?”

  His words stung. How dare he call me a slut! I hadn’t been with anyone else since we met.

  “Why are you acting this way? You’re the father! There’s no one else,” I screamed.

  “I don’t believe you! We haven’t been together that long, and look at you,” he sneered, his eyes traveling down my body, stopping at my belly. “You’re already fat.”

  I just stared at him. My mouth agape. “Get out,” I yelled. “Get the fuck out of here!”

  “Well that’s easy enough,” he said. “Oh, and Cassidy, don’t come after me later. Keep it if you want, but I don’t want anything to do with you or your kid.”

  A few seconds later, I heard the door to the apartment slam shut. Steve had officially walked out of my life causing me to forget all about Prince Charmings and happily-ever-afters. I was certain those two things would never exist for me.

  Knocking on Brooke’s door, I waited a few minutes before letting myself in. I’d dropped Kaity off at her grandparents’ house on the way over. I was in desperate need of some alone time with my best friend.

  “Brooke!” I shouted, before noticing the distinct smell of smoke coming from the kitchen. The pungent odor was soon followed by the loud scream of the smoke detector. “Brooke,” I yelled again, walking toward the kitchen to investigate. “Are you OK in there?”

  “Yes, everything is fine,” she yelled, as the beeping stopped. “I guess I’m just as terrible a baker as I am a cook. I tried making Christmas cookies, but it looks like I’ll be buying them again this year,” she added, holding up the burnt dough, which actually resembled hockey pucks more than cookies.

  “You should’ve called. You know I would’ve come over to help. I love baking Christmas cookies!” I said, walking into the kitchen to find flour spilled all over the floor. “Dear lord, you really do need some help.”

  “Something like that,” she laughed. “Grab an apron.”

  Pulling a black apron off a hook, I quickly slipped it over my head without looking at the front. Looking down, I tried making out the words. “I turn grills on,” I slowly read.

  I heard Brooke laughing behind me. “I bought that for Rich for his birthday. I think I found it funnier than he did.”

  “I think after all these years, I’m finally rubbing off on you,” I chuckled. “This really is some funny shit. I’ll totally wear it if he doesn’t.”

  “I’m pretty sure he said the same exact thing,” she said. “Now, are you going to help me with these cookies, or what?”

  We’d just put the last two dozen cookies in the oven, and were working on cleaning the kitchen when Brooke asked me about Blake.

  “Have you heard from Blake?” she questioned.

  “How long have you been wanting to ask me about him?” I said, avoiding her question.

  “Why? Did you think I’d forgotten?”

  “I was hoping,” I sighed.

  “I know what you’re doing. I’m not going to let you continue avoiding this topic. I know there was something going on between you two at our wedding,” she said. “Now spill it.”

  “Nothing happened. I mean, yeah, I thought he was attractive. After all, I do have a vagina,” I joked.

  “Seriously. Can you not be Cass for like five minutes, and have a real conversation with me?”

  “Sure, let me not be me. What the fuck does that even mean? I think I should just go,” I yelled.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You know I didn’t mean anything by it. I love you. But, sometimes when I want to have a serious talk, you put up a wall and joke about everything. I just worry about you, that’s all.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. He did ask me out,” I said. Brooke’s eyes growing with my confession. “But, I turned him down. He doesn’t need me in his life, and I don’t need him, or any man for that matter.”

  “He’s a good guy, Cass.”

  “Exactly. I’d just hurt him. And, he’s already suffered a lifetime of hurt. So, just drop it, OK?” Before she had a chance to continue any further with our conversation, the oven went off.

  “Saved by the bell,” I said.

  “For now,” she sighed. “But, just so you know, Rich invited Blake and the kids to spend the holidays with us here in Michigan.”

  My pulse quickened with the realization that I might be forced to spend more time with him. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to control myself around him for a second time. I didn’t know how to respond so I just stared at Brooke, hoping that she’d answer the questions without me having to ask her. In true best-friend fashion, she didn’t disappoint. “To our surprise, he accepted right away. I think I now know why that was,” she said, eyeing me suspiciously. “They’ll be here the day after tomorrow.”

  I’d been home for the last hour, replaying the conversation with Brooke in my head. Twirling my cell in my hands, I’d contemplated calling Blake to ask about his plans. For all I knew, he’d met someone in the last month. Maybe he’d forgotten all about me. Why did I even care? Before I had a chance to think any more, my phone dinged with an incoming text.

  Blake: I’m assuming Brooke told you that I’d be in your neck of the woods for the next few days?

  Cass: She did.

  Blake: I see you’re still playing hard to get.

  Cass: I’m not playing, Blake. It’s just not a good idea.

  Blake: I still think you’re trying to convince yourself of that, Miss Carpenter. Have dinner with me on Wednesday?

  He wanted to have dinner with me the day after tomorrow? I wanted to see him, but I didn’t think I could handle such an intimate setting.

  Cass: I don’t think I’ll be able to find a sitter on such short notice. How about we take the kids sledding next weekend instead?

  Some people might think I was acting prematurely by getting our children involved, but it seemed like the safest decision to me. Kaity will just think she has some new friends, and I won’t have to be alone with Blake. Besides, we’ll be dressed in snowsuits–there’s nothing sexy about that.

  Blake: Are you asking my kids and me on a play date?

  Cass: Um, yeah, I guess I am.

  Blake: Sounds good to me. I think Maddy and Ben would love that as much as I would. How about we pick you up at eleven?

  Cass: Sure, but will you have a car?

  Blake: I’ll borrow one of Rich’s. He just doesn’t know it yet.

  Cass: I like the way you think, Mr. Mitchell. ;)

  Blake: I don’t think that’s all you like.

  He was flirting with me. And, if I was being honest with myself, I think I was liking it. I smiled, knowing that I’d be seeing Blake again in just a few days. I texted him goodbye before laying my head back and drifting off to sleep.

  Cassidy

  IN JUST FORTY-EIGHT hours, I’d managed to bite all my fingernails down to tiny, little stubs. It was a nervous habit, one which my mother had tried to break me of for years. I sighed, knowing I was in desperate need of a manicure.

  I didn’t know why I was so nervous over this “play date.” I’d gone on plenty of dates in my lifetime. I wasn’t sure why this one was any different. Maybe because unlike all the others in recent years, I didn’t plan on hitting and quitting it. Truthfully, as much as my body wanted to hit it, I knew I couldn’t do that either. No, Blake Mitchell and I were just friends. And, not the kind with benefits–even if I did want to take him for a ride.

  Glancing at my watch, I could see I only had about an hour before Blake would be pi
cking us up. Catching my reflection in the bedroom mirror, I knew I needed to change my outfit. A skimpy tank top and jeggings were not going to keep me warm enough during our sledding adventure. Besides, I’m pretty sure my curves had curves in those pants.

  Rummaging through my closet, I pulled out all the necessities–granny panties (you could never be too safe), leggings, leg warmers, jeans, snow pants, sports bra, camisole, long sleeve T-shirt, sweater, puffy vest, gloves, scarf, and fuzzy ear muffs. Hopefully that would be enough layers to keep Mr. Mitchell’s hands off me. I was half-tempted to dig out the chastity belt that Daddy had bought me before I left for college. He thought it was so funny–little did he know that ship had sailed long before then. It’s a secret I’ll take with me to the grave.

  With just about five minutes to spare, Kaity waltzed into my bedroom. I chuckled at her choice of wardrobe. She was quite the fashionista–like mother like daughter. She looked like a mismatched Punky Brewster ballerina with striped knee-high socks over hot pink leggings, leopard print leotard, and silver-sequined tutu. Even her hair was pulled back into lopsided pigtails.

  “Baby, I don’t think you’re going to be warm enough in that outfit,” I said. “Do you think you can put your snowsuit on?”

  “But, Mommy,” she pouted.

  “No ‘But Mommying’ me,” I said, shaking my head. “Come on, do what I asked, please. Our friends are going to be here soon to pick us up. You don’t want to have to stay home by yourself while I go with them, do you?”

  “You can’t leave me here alone, Mommy. I’m too little. You could go to jail,” she chastised me while shaking her finger in my direction. Seriously, where does she learn these things?

  “You’re right, I guess we’ll both have to stay home then,” I said with a shrug.

  “Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll wear my snowsuit, but can I still wear my ballerina skirt over it?”