A Surprise Reunion (The Surprise Series Book 2) Read online

  Published by YRBS Publishing

  Copyright © 2015 by C. C. Morian

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the authors, except in the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, is entirely coincidental.

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  About The Author

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  Books by C. C. Morian

  Books by C. C. Morian and Blaise Quin

  A Surprise Reunion

  Chapter 1

  Melissa was early for her lunch with her best friend Julie. Actually she was on time, but Julie typically ran late. Normally Melissa would have asked to be shown to a table to wait. But they always came to this restaurant, she certainly didn’t need to look at the menu, and the weather, while still late fall, was raw, so sitting outside and people watching was out of the question.

  The restaurant wasn’t busy, there wouldn’t be much chance of losing their table. Melissa glanced at the empty bar, on the far side of the room, a little in shadow, she had never paid it much attention, this wasn’t the place she’d come to if she wanted to drink other than with a meal. Not that she’d been out just drinking lately, if by lately meant eight years or so. It wasn’t something she and her husband Richard did. They would drink, but it would always be some wine with dinner.

  Not like her old college days.

  But those days were long gone, for good or bad. Mostly good, she thought; there were things she had done she’d sooner forget.

  But there had been a lot of fun too, a freedom, a somewhat protected recklessness that Melissa missed. Julie, her college roommate, had been part of that. It was something they would always share.

  Melissa had come a long way since then, a great job, a nice house in a good neighborhood, even some money from a fortuitous IPO of the first company she worked for. And she had fully left behind her somewhat wild youth with her marriage to Richard, a calm, caring man, handsome, healthy. A good marriage. A safe marriage.

  As the hostess approached her, Melissa heard a loud, friendly laugh from within the restaurant. Four businessmen sat at a table not far from the bar, sharing some joke. They weren’t being raucous, it just sounded like some fun, a couple of guys who knew each other, having lunch. The sound carried because the restaurant wasn’t very full.

  Melissa looked them over, typical businessmen in some ways, in jackets and ties, suits probably. She couldn’t tell their age exactly, not too young, not too old. The one facing the door, where she stood, had a good smile, loose, casual. Confident.

  “Table for one?” The hostess was reaching for a menu.

  “I’m waiting for a friend,” said Melissa. “She’s running a little late.”

  “That’s no problem,” said the hostess, an older woman that Melissa had never seen before, dressed a little too formal for the casual restaurant, kind of prissy. “May I show you to your table to wait?”

  Melissa could still hear the men, the sound of the conversation changing a bit, a little more subdued, even though there was still some laughing going on. She glanced at them and caught the man facing the door looking at her, no longer taking part in the discussion.

  Not long ago, before her eye opening conversations with Richard, she might not have even noticed. Or not thought anything of it. Now, though, she realized the man at the table was checking her out.

  “Miss?” The hostess was getting a little annoyed.

  “It’s Mrs,” corrected Melissa. “And I’ll wait at the bar.”

  The hostess frowned. “Are you sure? It’s a little noisy there.” She wrinkled her nose.

  Melissa turned to her and smiled. “It’ll be fine.”

  The hostess hesitated, as if thinking she should try to dissuade Melissa, but then she turned and led the way across the restaurant. Melissa let the hostess get a little ahead, wanting to see if the man at the table was still looking at her.

  He was. He had returned to the conversation, but Melissa noticed his eyes on her. As she got closer she could see that he was pretty good looking, a little too light for her taste, blondish. He had on a good tie, that distinct Hermes pattern, a little safe for her, but still tasteful.

  Melissa studiously avoided his eyes, her heels clacking on the floor, causing two of the other men to look up, only the one with his back to her not turning around. She thought she looked pretty good, in work clothes, a nice skirt and jacket over a dark blue blouse, the skirt just the right length, not too short, not too long. As she passed their table she felt a little thrill, realizing that even the fourth man was looking too, the conversation dropping away to nothing.

  The hostess was waiting by the bar. “There isn’t a bartender on duty this early, but I can have a waiter get you something,” she said. Then, seeing the men at the table, almost gawking now, she added, “Are you sure you want to sit here?”

  Melissa turned one of the stools toward the restaurant and the men, and smoothly sat down, crossing her legs, showing a little bit of thigh. She smiled sweetly at the hostess. “It’s perfect,” she said.

  “Very well,” said the hostess, her voice a little cool. She walked off.

  Melissa imagined what she was thinking. Slut.

  And for just a moment Melissa thought so too, but instead of revolting her it was exhilarating. She still had it.

  Maybe she’d even tell Richard.

  Chapter 2

  Over two months after her shocking conversation with her husband about their sex life—and what they should do about it—Melissa had mixed feelings. On one hand, things were better with Richard. Their sex, which had never been fantastic, and which had dwindled to almost nothing, had been rekindled. It still wasn’t wild, crazy, spontaneous sex, and Richard, good looking as he was, still was not, and could never be, the man who would get her aroused just by standing there, by her just looking at him.

  But physically, things were at least somewhat better. That they had relied on Ri
chard’s fantasies to achieve the improvement—that was bothering her less and less. That her husband was often being driven to desire by his picturing her with another man was something she had accepted, at least for now. She still wondered if it was a phase, something they would both tire of, or even worse, that one of them would tire of, and the other still want.

  But on the other hand, she had no answer to a question Richard had posed: Would she be happier with another man?

  Melissa had never really considered that. Whatever problems she and Richard had, she always assumed it was something that could be worked out, just between the two of them. Or if it couldn’t, she’d have to live with what she had, a good, maybe even a great, but not a perfect marriage. One where anyone on the outside probably thought she had everything, love, support, caring, not for a minute considering that she had other desires, other needs.

  Melissa knew it was selfish, to want more, to want it all. But Richard, kind Richard, hadn’t seen it that way. He didn’t think it was selfish of her at all. He recognized, rightly she realized, that if something so important to her was missing, she would always wonder. And her uncertainty would eat at their entire relationship and marriage.

  And thus his crazy, impossible suggestion, that she get together with her old boyfriend, Marcus, the one man who had really, really, done if for her sexually.

  But who had none of the great qualities of Richard.

  Or didn’t, at least almost ten years ago. She hadn’t seen Marcus since then. What kind of man was he now?

  Richard suggested she should find out. At first Melissa had thought that Richard was offering it up as another scene in his fantasy, imagining a mysterious black man with his wife. And maybe that was part of it. But Richard had clearly thought it through, and swore he had considered the idea even before he started to realize how excited he got thinking about her with another man.

  The chances that Marcus had suddenly morphed into the best of what she had with Richard, while still keeping that cool, bad boy persona, were next to impossible. It was probably better to just leave things be, be happy with the direction her life was going in. She and Richard had already opened up Pandora’s box just by talking about all this, just by Melissa admitting that she fantasized about other men. It had been her only secret from Richard, and made his fantasies all the more acceptable for her, dovetailing nicely into her own flights of imagination.

  Right now Richard was titillated by that, but what about a year from now? Might he start to wonder if he was even needed in her life, that he contributed anything sexually?

  Such a threat to his masculinity could certainly weigh on someone even as secure as Richard.

  She’d let it go for a while, maybe try to wean Richard off the fantasies, see where that left both of them. No need to rush anything.

  Or so she thought.

  It was something as simple as the mail that lit the fuse. Melissa, as usual, had arrived home from work before Richard. She grabbed the mail from the box and tossed it on the car seat. Once inside the house, she slipped off her low heels, poured an ice tea, and idly flipped through the mail at the kitchen table.

  And there it was. A reminder card for her tenth year college class reunion. The reunion where she would have the perfect opportunity to run into Marcus. If he showed up.

  If she decided to go.

  It’s what Richard had suggested she do. At first, she thought, as an idea just to get away, to do something fun, the kind of thing he knew she enjoyed. And he had suggested she do it alone; it was not an event Richard would enjoy. She had demurred, not wanting to go without him.

  All of that was before the conversation about other men, about Marcus, about Melissa’s confession about her attraction to the rough biker Vern. Before the revealing of Richard’s fantasies. Now she understood that Richard had been bothered by their sexual problems for a much longer time; that he knew, even before she had truly realized it, that something was missing from their relationship, that she had unanswered questions about whether she should be with someone else.

  Richard had been trying to come up with a solution. His suggestion that she go to the reunion was to give her a way to see Marcus, in another city, as free as she could be from her home and her husband. A way to find out, once and for all, if she had made the wrong decision, if she should have stayed with Marcus.

  The reunion reminder card stared up at her, an accusation, a temptation. Her first thought was to toss it; everything was going better with Richard, why get it off track?

  Yet she’d have to face it sooner or later. Make a decision. Attending a reunion—that shouldn’t even be a big decision, in the great scheme of life. But for her, for them, it could change everything.

  In the end Melissa left the reminder on the top of the mail pile, where Richard was sure to see it. He hadn’t brought up the topic of the reunion since they first talked about it; it wasn’t his way to pester her. It was one of his many endearing qualities, his acceptance of her independence, and her responsibility to their marriage—he would know that this decision was important to both of them, and that Melissa wouldn’t avoid it.

  The reunion was still months away, she didn’t have to make the actual decision to go for quite some time. But they’d certainly have to talk about it.

  Even if she did decide to seek out Marcus, maybe the reunion wasn’t a good place to do it. There would be a lot of other people there. She might not get much time alone with him, if at all. And if she went off with him for some private time, even if just to talk, what would people think? Certainly someone at the reunion would know Melissa had been with Marcus in college. Julie would certainly know.

  Julie. What would she tell Julie? Would she share this with her? Julie was the one person she knew who might understand; she had known Marcus, had seen Melissa with him. Julie could be a big help. But if everything turned out badly, Melissa would have shared this very personal secret with someone other than Richard.

  The reunion though, would in some ways be a relatively safe way to interact with Marcus, see what he had become. Was he married? That would solve her problem, at least as far as Marcus was concerned. Would he show up with a woman? That might not tell her much.

  Would he have changed? Would he still have that undercurrent of mystery, of danger? Would he still look good, after ten years? Would she still get weak just by looking at him?

  Maybe the reunion wouldn’t be safe after all. What if she found herself back in time, having those same feelings, unable to control herself? What might happen?

  But what was the alternative? That she call up Marcus, say, Hey, I was wondering, actually me and my husband were wondering, are you available? Have you been thinking of me all these years, and want to see if we maybe should be back together? Want to go off for a weekend alone?

  That certainly wouldn’t work. She couldn’t imagine herself, as confident in most things as she was, to make a call like that. Sure, she could lead up to it, but Marcus would figure it out in a minute. Then she’d feel committed if he said yes, and embarrassed if he said no.

  And devastated if he didn’t remember her the way she had, if he hadn’t thought about her at all. Deep down inside, didn’t everyone secretly wish that their former lovers still missed them, still desired them, still fantasized about them?

  Marcus had actually never said the words, had never said he had loved her. But that was part of who Marcus was. Melissa wondered if he had ever said those words to anyone, or if he would think it was some kind of admission of weakness, or an actual weakness.

  Yet he had given her what she wanted at the time, what she needed. They hadn’t talked about a future together; in fact, Melissa, who even at that age usually ran every man she met through a potential marriage filter, never did that with Marcus. Maybe it was because she knew he would fail her test, as immature and unrealistic a test as it was at the time. Not thinking about how many ways he wasn’t right for her gave her an excuse to stay with him.

  It was a m
oot point anyway; Marcus wasn’t likely to go to the reunion. She thought of Vern, the biker, showing up at the community potluck at the neighborhood pool, and how out of place he looked. Marcus at the reunion would be the same. No one would expect him to be there.

  But like Vern, if he did show up, he’d be his usual confident self, probably the only person there who could look cool at a college reunion.

  Melissa started to play out the scenario, being at the reunion, seeing Marcus, finding out he had turned into some overweight slug, a drunk, out of a job. She’d have her answer, she’d be free. No, that couldn’t happen. She couldn’t know exactly what Marcus was like now, but that certainly wasn’t one of the possibilities.

  He could be a toned down version of his former self, his edge lost, his danger tampered, leading a shy, demure little lass that he still had the power to overwhelm.

  That didn’t seem likely either.

  Or he could be just a slightly older version of the Marcus she knew, just as enticing, his confidence and looks still making the ladies swoon, his aura still able to reach out and affect anyone near him.

  That would be her Marcus, the one in her mind, the one she wondered about, and so help her, fantasized about.

  And the one she’d never get to see if she didn’t go to the reunion.

  Chapter 3

  Melissa had just finished dinner when she heard the sound of Richard’s car in the driveway. She glanced at the mail on the side table, the reunion reminder still on top. For the tenth time she considered whether to ditch it before Richard came in. In the end, she thought, Fuck it. She hated to put things off, even difficult things, they just ate at her.