Excerpt: The Time Is Now...

Chapter One

Fate set everything in motion at a high school reunion.
Kyra hadn't wanted to go. She'd even thrown the invitation and subsequent reminders in the recycling bin as soon as they arrived. But her best friend Jen took matters into her own hands. "We're going," she said with a finality that Kyra recognized from those very high school days she wanted to avoid. How many times had Jen uttered those very same words when she'd heard about a party given by some gorgeous jock or a rave on the lips of all the very cool people--a group they didn't really belong to but that Jen was determined to infiltrate.
Now it was the same with the reunion. Kyra had initially planned on spending the reunion weekend attending an independent film festival in New York. The tickets to all the movies she wanted to see were in her evening clutch. If things got too boring or too maudlin she could always pull a runner, head for 30th Street Station and jump on the first New York-bound train. Which wouldn't be too difficult. There several trains an hour that passed through on their way to New York. She could be there in an hour...maybe ninety minutes if she needed to make an escape. And she was pretty sure she was going to need one.
Already, the towering heels she'd fallen in love with in the boutique were pinching and cramping her toes. But she kept a wan smile plastered on her face as Jen led them through the ball room in search of their assigned table. Kyra tried not to make eye contact with anyone they passed. A few times people called out, "Oh my God! You came!" or "It's been so long! Where have you been hiding?"--to which she responded with a shrug and "I've been working a lot" or "So nice to see you" when really they were the last people in the world she wanted to see.
Maybe the fifteen years since graduation had distorted their memories, Kyra thought as Jen continued her serpentine route through the room. Maybe they've forgotten how much they hated me.
Either that, or success and/or failure had made them realize that high school wasn't the be all to end all. It was the mantra that had kept Kyra going through all four years of high school hell. And it would have to get her through tonight since Jen was already babbling about how many people they were going to catch up with.
Their table was just slightly off the center of the ballroom. Twelve place settings were evenly spaced around the large circular table. A low, square glass vase filled with yellow roses and green hypericum took center stage at the table. On either side was a discreet printed card listing the people who'd be seated at the table. Kyra plopped into a chair and eased her feet out of her painful shoes. While Jen examined the list, she waited for the pain in her feet to subside. Whoever said that stilettos became more comfortable the longer you wore them was an evil liar.
"Oh, baby! We've got the right table!" Jen squealed.
"Sure we do," Kyra said. "We found our name cards...."
"No, you goof ball, look at the list...look who's sitting with us..."
Kyra took the list to humor Jen. She scanned down the list: Angie D'Ambrosio (who was now calling herself Angelica D. Wentworth), Corbin Wentworth (must be the rich man she bagged, Kyra though a little uncharitably), Matthew & Nina Jennings, Lamar Johnson (the captain of the basketball team and now a successful sports commentator on national TV) and his wife Sunny, Ellen Doherty (the cool Goth girl who was now a successful caterer), Jonathan Taylor and guest (now that was interesting--they'd always thought he was gay, was that the reason for the enigmatic "guest"?), Lulu Schwartzberg (she'd been the funniest and the smartest girl in the senior class--she'd finished Princeton in three years and then went into fashion of all things) and Ian Katz (her on-again-off-again boyfriend from high school who'd gone on to become her on-again-off-again husband).
...And then there was his name--Christian Morrison. Kyra read it again just to be certain she hadn't imagined it.
She turned quickly, wondering if he'd arrived yet. She said his name aloud and remembered the power it had over her when she was sixteen and still hadn't been kissed by anyone other than family members. How many times had she nearly walked into walls just because he'd smiled at her... or blushed when he'd asked to borrow her eraser or compare his answers to hers. She used to harbor dreams of him seeing her as more than just the shy girl who hung around with Jen. And there was a time when it had come true and he'd begun to view her in a new light but then senior year came and her father died and everything sank beneath the surface....
Christian Morrison.
She lost her virginity to him. She'd been so in love with him. And then he moved to Los Angeles and she never heard from him again. She didn't need to. Everyone recognized him these days from the TV shows and films he'd starred in. He wasn't as big as Brad Pitt but you were bound to see him in US Weekly or TMZ from time to time. The last time she'd actually seen him had been from a distance. She'd been invited to a special screening of an indie film at the Roxy Screening Rooms since she was a member of "Friends of the Roxy". She'd gone because she'd been stood up by a colleague who'd asked her out for a drink and then texted her nearly 30 minutes after their agreed meeting time that he had "an emergency at home". She let it slide. She didn't really like him, she just didn't want to spend another night at home in front of the television. So serendipity brought her to the Roxy that night and as she stood in the lobby with the other guests, sipping tepid white wine and talking about how wonderful it would be to see the film, she saw him standing by the director of the film. She'd wanted to go over to him and say hello but she held back. He probably didn't remember her. That was what she told herself as she accepted another glass of wine from the wait staff. But god, did he look good. And when he laughed, it had sent shivers of want through her. Still.