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 you bitter.”
“Oh, honey, you didn’t see me after I realized I’d blown my shot at the Olympics. And my parents? I thought they were going to jump off a cliff.”
She and Harlow had talked shortly after the surgery on her leg, and Ginny knew that her friend had sunk into a dark place. But she hadn’t stayed there. “Come on. You’re still in fantastic shape. So, good for you. Now, tell me how you like teaching.”
“Only if you tell me the real reason you dropped out of Juilliard. I can’t believe you’re still living here and not playing a fourteen-karat-gold piano on a yacht somewhere exotic.”
“What the—” Ginny burst out laughing. “You’re not allowed to have any booze. None,” she said and turned to see what Harlow was squinting at.
The late-afternoon sun filled the lobby with natural light, but from where she was sitting, the glare made it difficult to see.
“Isn’t that Cricket?” Harlow ducked her head when someone at the next table stood and blocked her view. “In line at the reception desk?”
Ginny finally spotted her. “I’m so glad she made it. She looks great, doesn’t she?”
“Like a big-shot lawyer. Oh, no...it’s Troy what’s-his-name behind her. He thinks we’re waving at him.” Harlow sank back in her chair, averting her face. “I hope he doesn’t do something stupid like stop by...”
“Isn’t he the guy who you—”
Harlow’s glare cut her off.
“Sorry.” Ginny hid a smile and turned back to tracking Cricket.
Ginny was anxious to see her, even though they’d connected twice when Cricket had come home to visit her dad, who still lived in a shack on the beach. Of the whole gang, Cricket probably knew her the best, but even though she and the rest of her friends knew about Tilda, they didn’t know the entire reason Ginny had left Julliard.
The server delivered the pitcher and glasses, and Harlow asked her to bring one more.
“Have you heard from Jade? Do you know what time she’s arriving?”
“Late, I think.” Harlow kept her head bowed as she poured. “Where’s Cricket? Getting close?”
“She has one person ahead of her.”
“Is Troy still looking over here?”
“Nope. He’s talking to someone.”
“Good.” Harlow slid the drink to her. “What about Meg? Have you heard from her?”
Ginny’s stomach lurched, even though she’d known the question would come up. “Not for a while. I seriously doubt she’ll be here.”
“I guess we could ask Andrea. She’s checking people in and passing out name badges.”
“Oh, Cricket is at the desk. I hope she doesn’t go straight to her room,” Ginny said, taking her first sip. The salty tartness woke up her taste buds. As for the alcohol, she’d have to watch herself. With the exception of an occasional glass of wine, she didn’t drink much at all.
“She won’t.” After a healthy sip of her margarita, Harlow sighed, then blinked at Ginny. “I can’t believe I forgot to ask... You have a daughter. She must be a teenager by now, right?”
“Oh, yes, she is.”
Harlow put out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “I know you have pictures.”
“You bet I do.” She queued her phone, then handed it over. “Millions