her phone call yesterday.
It was unclear how she’d learned of the reunion, but that wasn’t important. After he followed this last shred of hope, he was going to tell her he was done. Finished. Not that she asked him very often. But this time would be the last. There was no reason to keep opening the wound. No more chasing ghosts or shadows. He and his mom had come out of hiding over thirteen years ago. She was remarried to a nice man, a dentist from Idaho who kept regular hours and put her before his job. It was time she accepted that Meg was never coming back.
At least when he’d gone to ground, he hadn’t cut himself out of his mother’s life completely. Meg, for whatever reason, had vanished without a word. He hoped it was because it was her choice, even if he wished she could have been kinder about it.
The important thing was that his mother was finally happy. Now, if she could just let go of Meg. Not forget her, but accept that maybe Meg was just like their old man. She’d had plenty of opportunities to reach out, give their mom some peace of mind. Instead, Meg’s Facebook posts had dwindled to nothing. Keeping her secrets was clearly more important to her than her family.
The open lobby was spacious, with lots of glass, and overlooked the sparkling blue waters of the bay. People were everywhere. Spread out on the suede chairs and sofas, talking, laughing, sipping cocktails. Others stood in small groups closer to the lobby bar. A short line had formed while folks waited their turn at the reception desk.
The sheer number of people in the lobby made him want to turn around and leave. What he wouldn’t give to be back in his cabin, with nothing but the stark beauty of the wilderness as his companion. Once this exercise in futility was over, he’d be better off never leaving Alaska again.
But he’d made a promise he intended to keep. With his eyes peeled, he maneuvered through the crowd, behind uniformed employees pushing carts loaded down with luggage. Off to the left of the elevators, a table was set up and manned by a smartly dressed brunette in her early thirties who flashed a blindingly bright smile and a diamond the size of Parker’s De Havilland.
Yep, she looked like a product of the Roger Williams Preparatory Academy to him. He’d never understood why Meg had wanted to go there. She hadn’t cared about her grades, or about hanging out with the future bastions of the upper class. In fact, she’d tended to thumb her nose at the type of kids who went to prep school. With the exception of Ginny Landry.
He returned the smile of a tall willowy blonde, and resisted the urge to glance back as they passed each other. She didn’t look familiar, although he didn’t expect to recognize anyone. He’d lived in Temptation Bay for only a year while attending the public high school before he’d left for Princeton.
Man, it felt like a lifetime ago.
His thoughts circled back to Ginny Landry. He wondered if she would bother showing up. Or if she was even in the country. Easy to imagine her performing somewhere in Europe, playing before the king and queen of some country that still acknowledged royalty. She’d just turned eighteen when he last saw her. He remembered since they shared the same birthday, although he was two years older.
In retrospect, at twenty, he’d still been a kid. A kid with too much responsibility to shoulder and without a clue how to handle the curveball life had thrown him. But Ginny... With all her talent and natural-born grace, it hadn’t been hard for him to picture the brilliant future she’d had waiting for her.
The woman at the desk smiled as he approached. “Are you here for the reunion?” she asked, sizing him up. Her smile wavered briefly at his worn jeans. Definitely not designer. “This is the Roger Williams registration desk.”
“Just what I was looking for.” He gave her a smile that seemed to distract her from his attire. On the left side of the table name badges were displayed alphabetically. “Any chance I can see a list of the attendees?”
“Andrea Langston. Well, I swear...” A woman rushed up from behind him as the brunette—presumably Andrea—rose to greet her.
Parker glanced at the name badges but didn’t see Meg’s or Ginny’s name. Although that didn’t tell him anything useful.
The women exchanged silly air kisses, and he saw it was the tall blonde he’d passed a minute ago.
“Andrea, I almost didn’t recognize you,” the blonde said, then slid him a smile. “Hello.”
Parker smiled back.
Just as she extended her hand, someone else caught his eye. Another blonde he’d once known.
“Excuse me,” he said, surprised at the hitch in his breathing, and headed for Ginny Landry.
“HOW IS IT you haven’t aged a bit?” Harlow said after she and Ginny hugged. “Seriously. You still look like a college kid.”
“And you still don’t know your own strength.” Laughing, Ginny rubbed her arm. Harlow had once been a world-class athlete. “Can we keep the bruising down to a minimum?”
“I’ll try.” Harlow took her by the hand and dragged her toward a table she’d secured near the lobby bar. “This place is a zoo. I don’t want to lose our spot. Have you seen anyone else yet?”
“I just got here. You?”
“Nope. Not a soul.” Harlow flagged down a server. “That is, no one I care to talk to. But I haven’t been here long either. I went straight to the room, hung up my dress for tomorrow night and left everything else. I wanted to make sure I scored a table.”
Ginny grinned. “I’m glad you have your priorities in order.”
“You got that right.” Her smile was for the waitress. “A pitcher of margaritas, please.”
Nodding, the young woman started writing. “Anything else?”
“Wait.” Ginny frowned at her friend. “Who’s that pitcher for?”
“You and me, unless Cricket or Jade shows up.”
Ginny sighed. “You’re insane.” She turned to the server, who was setting cocktail napkins on the table. “Thank you.”
The woman smiled and left.
“So, are you staying in the hotel?” Harlow asked.
“Nope. I’m only ten minutes away.”
“Well, if you get too hammered, you can always bunk with me for the night.”
“I’m not getting hammered.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Ginny laughed. This felt so good. In just minutes, fifteen years had disappeared. It didn’t matter that they lived on opposite coasts, or that, despite their heartfelt graduation night promises, their communication had been sporadic at best. “You look wonderful, Harlow. I mean it.”
Harlow shrugged. “I’m blonder.”
“You know what I’m saying. I’m glad the accident didn’t make
