Stress and The City

Dear Reader,

What’s the answer to stress? Chocolate. More stress? More chocolate.

Last fall, as I was eating a pan of brownies after a long day at work, I contemplated what would happen if chocolate disappeared from the planet and I still had to go to work and pretend to be sane. My imagination promptly took off, and soon I had the story of Cassie Halloway, a stress-management therapist with a need for chocolate. Throw in a hot guy with a fiancée and some delusions about love, and you’ve got Stress & the City.

I’ve always been willing to sacrifice my reputation for a bit of levity. What’s pride if you can brighten someone’s day? Writing for Harlequin Flipside allows my true self to emerge: having in-depth conversations with imaginary people, laughing out loud at things only I hear and being able to share them with you. I’m so excited to be a part of Flipside.

The fact that this book won the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart award and caught my editor’s eye (there was no bribery involved, I swear!) gives me hope that you, too, might find yourself laughing at Cassie’s view of the world and climbing on board with her as she goes after true love.

Happy reading!

Stephanie Rowe

Okay, so Cassie had freaked out. It was over. No one had seen it and it was behind her now. It was a cathartic episode she’d obviously needed, but now that she’d had her release, she’d be fine.

From this moment on, she’d be in complete control of her emotions. Calm, controlled and dignified. Reserved, even. People would start calling her the Cucumber because she was so cool.

The Cucumber could handle rejection.

The Cucumber wouldn’t freak if a man stood her up.

The Cucumber could separate the wreck of her soul from her professional life….

Next agenda item for the Cucumber? Deal with the elusive Ty Parker. He thought he could outwit her by following through on his refusal to meet her today?

Hah. He had no idea who he was dealing with. “Ty, better get ready for battle. The Cucumber is not easily dismissed.”

Stress & the City

Stephanie Rowe

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A lifelong reader of romance, Golden Heart winner Stephanie Rowe wrote her first novel when she was ten and sold her first book twenty-three years later. After experimenting with a legal career, she decided wearing suits wasn’t her style and opted for a more fulfilling career entertaining herself and others with stories of romance, humor and, of course, true love. She currently shares her household with two dogs, two cats and her own hero. When not glued to the computer or avoiding housework, she can be found on the tennis court, reading or inviting herself over to her mom’s house for dinner. You can reach her at www.stephanierowe.com.

To Mom and Dad, for teaching me

I could do anything and for giving me the skills to prove them right.

To Josh, for everything.

To my wonderful agent, Michelle Grajkowski, and fabulous editor, Wanda Ottewell. How do I thank you enough for believing in me?

Contents

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

Epilogue

1

“I’M PROUD OF THE FACT I took my honeymoon by myself,” Cassie Halloway announced as she selected an oversize piece of chocolate from the refreshment table. Only three hours off the plane and somehow she’d allowed her best friend, Leonore—better known as Leo—Wethers, to drag her to Gardenbloom, Connecticut’s New Year’s Eve dance. Now that she was here, she regretted her foolish moment of malleability. Not that she didn’t like dances, but it had been so much easier to deny the reality of her life when she was hovering alone by the hotel pool, pretending the puffiness of her bloodshot eyes was actually a new beauty regime highly sought after by New York socialites.

“You should be impressed with yourself,” Leo agreed. “Taking a solo honeymoon is definitely an accomplishment most women can only dream of.”

“Poor deprived souls. I pity them.” Just about everyone Cassie knew in town was here, plus some she didn’t.

Too many people.

Too much noise.

She needed help.

So she broke off a piece of fudge and placed it on her tongue, letting it dissolve in a glorious blend of cocoa and butter.

She was happy…no, delighted everyone she knew was here. She certainly didn’t actually wish to be home alone on New Year’s Eve watching that stupid ball drop and all those idiotic screaming people yelling as if it was actually a good night.…

Hang on. Regroup. Nothing productive could come of her mind descending into negativity. That would lead to misery and depression and then she’d have to create an alternate world just to survive. And then she’d get dizzy and confused, try to eat a fork and end up dancing with a pillar. Then everyone would nod sagely, as if they’d all been right in predicting her complete mental breakdown after the Incident.

More chocolate needed.

Cassie took the largest piece of fudge, jammed it against the next biggest piece and shoved the whole thing in her mouth. Close eyes. Absorb chocolate. She was idolized by men. Worshiped by young girls. Inundated with rich clients all paying their bills ahead of time. A sexy diva with a killer tan. Her strappy sandals might be wildly inappropriate for the frigid December weather and snow on the ground, but they were perfect for showing off tanned feet. And they perfectly complemented the narrow black skirt and off-white angora sweater she’d donned to set off her lusciously golden skin. The entire ensemble also had been selected to make herself look sophisticated and classy. Like a woman to be reckoned with…not a woman who had just returned from a solitary honeymoon.

Yes, indeed. She was recovered and she was a dynamic, sexy single woman.…Ah. She felt better now.

Cassie opened her eyes and managed to smile calmly at her friend. “Is this a new recipe? It’s amazing.”

“As it should be. I’d have no right to call my chocolate shop Blissful Heaven if my creations weren’t heavenly.” Leo picked up a selection with shredded walnuts in it. “Try this one.”

“One is good for me now.” No need to admit she’d already eaten three. Sometimes it was better to deny reality, especially if it might make her question her inner fortitude. “I’m not in need. Yet. Do you have a pocket or something? I’m sure I’ll need it later.”

Later. Like when she ran into that miserable ex-fiancé who had nearly destroyed her life.…No. Be positive. Hmm…she’d need the chocolate later when she ran into the man to whom she owed all sorts of thanks for sparing her from making a horrible mistake.…

Nope. Couldn’t think altruistic thoughts about her ex-fiancé just yet. For now she’d just imagine him with his head chopped off and all would be good.

Leo wrapped the treat in a tissue and slid it into her purse. “For a stress management consultant with a Ph.D. in psychology, you’re awfully uncreative when it comes to managing your own anxiety.”

“So chocolate works best for me. Why is that uncreative?”

“It’s just that you have about a zillion options in your arsenal when you’re helping clients. I find it interesting that chocolate is the only thing that helps you.”

“Maybe I’m just really dialed into myself. Self-aware.” Brilliant, also. And gorgeous and sexy and…

“Or maybe you’re just a chocoholic and you use stress as an excuse.”

“Entirely possible.” Cassie wiped her fingers with a napkin, then tossed it in the trash. “Besides, I’m not stressed. It’s just the cold weather that’s getting to me. Single digit weather and snowdrifts are a bit harsh after the sunny Bahamas.”

“I thought you had bad weather?”

“No, why?” It had been gorgeous blue sky and bright yellow sun. Perfect weather to lure all those honeymooning couples out on the beach every day, cuddling and cooing. And those damn voodoo dolls Cassie had bought in that alley had done absolutely nothing to torture those imbecilic happy couples. Not that she’d really wanted to interfere with their blissful euphoria. It had merely been a scientific experiment designed to help her become an even better stress management consultant. If she’d managed to induce a tear or two from one of those asinine brides…well, all the better. No! She meant she would have gone over and apologized, not relished their suffering. Yeesh!

“You didn’t spend your entire three weeks indoors, pining in misery for the wedding that didn’t happen?”

Cassie stiffened. As if she’d spend a day weeping over that adulterous snake. “I was out in the sun the whole time. Why?”

“Huh.”

“Huh, what?”

“How come you aren’t tanned?”

“What? I’m so tanned.”

Leo raised a blond eyebrow skeptically. “Are you?”

She’d left the Bahamas only this morning. Surely her tan couldn’t have faded already? It was her proof to the world that she was psychologically stable. Recovered. How could anyone with a ravishing tan be anything but an emotional rock?

Okay, so it was a tenuous relationship at best, but it was all she had to work with. Cassie unfastened her gold watch and held out her wrist. “See? Tan line.” Phew.

Leo squinted and lifted Cassie’s wrist up close. “Oh, yeah. I can see a faint mark. If I squint and pretend I’m on hallucinogenic drugs.”

“Funny.” Just what she needed right now: a sarcastic friend pretending not to notice her drop-dead-gorgeous tan. If Cassie wasn’t so self-confident and stable, she might actually believe that Leo couldn’t tell she was tan. And then she’d crumble into a sniveling lump because…

No! She’d promised herself there would be no thinking about cheating ex-fiancé’s tonight. Who wanted a fiancé, anyway? Certainly not her. Nope. She was a movin’ and shakin’ kind of gal who was soon going to be inundated with requests to dance from all the gorgeous rich men at this very fancy affair.

Okay, so it was a school gym. So what? It was still decorated with streamers and balloons. And the DJ was really quite good. At any moment one of those gyrating teenagers or jitterbugging senior citizens was going to realize she was available and come racing across the floor to buy her a drink. Okay, fine. So they’d offer to get her a Coke. It was dark, crowded and loud; therefore, it was a party and the place to be.

Oh, yeah. She could shake with the best of them. Bump and grind. She elbowed Leo. “I think that kid over there wants to ask me to dance.” She nodded toward a skinny redhead with braces. “He’s pointing at me.”

“He was supposed to be one of the ushers at your wedding. He’s pointing you out so everyone will notice you’re here.”

“Oh.” Well. Wasn’t that a kicker? No, that was fine. Let them stare. Cassie lifted her chin. They’d see she was a total diva. “I’m Teflon.”

Leo lifted her eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“I’m Teflon. No comments are going to get to me.”

“Is that one of the lines you feed your strung-out clients?”

“It works.”

“How? By deluding yourself?”

“Delusions can be very effective in managing tension,” Cassie said.

“Doesn’t mean they’re a good thing. Just ask any exjunkie who tried to make love to a motorcycle.”

“What are you talking about?”

Leo grinned. “I have a date with a biker tomorrow night. Gotta get in the mind-set.”

“Sometimes you frighten me.”

“And you scare me all the time. Obviously, that’s why we’re best buds. A perfect match.” Leo peered out into the crowd, no doubt searching for a man with whom she could bring in the New Year, if the low cut of her sweater and the waggle of her hips was any indication.

“So, any hot dates while I was gone?” Leo’s sordid social life would be certain to distract Cassie from the fact that this dance was supposed to be her first appearance in town as Mrs. Drew Smothers and, instead, she was alone, bitter and barely tan. Or that’s how she probably looked to outsiders. Internally, she was overwhelmed with a genuine appreciation for the wonder that was her life.

“Oh, you know. Plenty of dates. None of them hot enough to satisfy a bitter divorced woman like myself.” Leo straightened her spine and narrowed her gaze on a distant corner. “But now that you’re single, you can double-date with me as we conquer the world of single men.”

Cassie’s smile faltered. “I’ve been single for three weeks. After four years of being in a relationship, I’m not ready to date. Especially a biker.”

“I didn’t invite you on that date. I’m keeping him for myself.” Leo peered at her. “I do, however, think you should get out there again.”

“You’re wrong.” What a ridiculous thing to say.

“Am I?”

“Absolutely.” Cassie folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t need a man.”

“You’re afraid.”

“I am not afraid.”

Burned by having her heart puréed by the lecherous viper she had loved for four years and almost married? Maybe…

Afraid of trusting her judgment when it came to men? Only when it came to those who were actually breathing.

Certain she was going to end up a wobbly spinster who had conversations with major appliances on a regular basis because she had no one else to talk to? Entirely possible.

But afraid of dating? Not a chance.

“Ah-hah!” Leo grabbed Cassie’s arm. “I see two hot guys I don’t know. Let’s go introduce ourselves.”

“Guys?” As Leo led her around the edge of the dance floor, Cassie’s chest tightened and her breath began wheezing in her lungs. She leaned back and tried to twist her arm out of Leo’s grasp. “Let go of me.”

“No.” Leo tightened her grip on Cassie’s arm. “You look like an idiot fighting me. Smile and look sexy.”

“I hate you,” Cassie managed to whisper, just before Leo stopped in the darkened corner where two men—wearing suits and sporting broad shoulders and narrow waists—were standing.

“Hi, I’m Leo.”

Both men nodded and grunted something, but Cassie couldn’t hear them over the pounding music and surrounding babble of neighboring party-goers. All she could do was stare at the man on the right. Taller than his friend by at least a family pack of Oreos, his hair was dark, his eyes coal-black, and the shadow of a day’s whiskers framed his jaw.

And amazingly enough, he wasn’t gawking at Leo, drooling for one of her smiles. He was inspecting Cassie in the way a man inspected a woman. Whew. No one had looked at her like that in years.

It must be her single status. She was subconsciously sending out mating vibes that only the sexiest and most worthy men would respond to. Cassie pheromones combined with her gorgeous tan were obviously a powerful combination. See? She didn’t need to be married. This dating thing would be a breeze.

“We’re going to go dance. See you in a little bit,” Leo said, slipping her arm through the elbow of the other man.

“What?” Cassie squawked. Nice, Cassie. Sound a little more panicked about being left alone with the sexiest man she’d noticed in years. Decades even.

So much for the facade of being suave, sophisticated and mentally sound.

Leo was already gone, whirling into the crowd with her latest conquest in tow.

Cassie cleared her throat and tried to think of what a single woman was supposed to say to a devastatingly handsome man at a New Year’s Eve celebration. For the last four years, while she’d been happily taken, she could rattle off brilliantly engaging conversation with anyone. But now that she was single, it was as if her brain had abandoned her to go play Ping Pong and her tongue had gone off to watch the match.

“I’m Ty.” Obviously not suffering from the same affliction as she was, Ty held out his hand and sounded as if he were in complete control of all his faculties.

“Hi.” She shook his hand, startled by the firmness of his grasp. Like a steel vise under the flesh, a clamp that could bind her and trap her in all sorts of wonderfully interesting ways.…

“And your name is?” Ty prompted.

“Oh. Right. It’s…” Why had she let Leo take the fudge with her? “My name…it’s…Cassie.” Phew. The tough part out of the way.

Ty nodded.

She smiled.

The music blared.

Wow, was she a dazzling conversationalist or what? Scintillating. It was astonishing she’d had only the one marriage proposal.

“So, um…”

He took his eyes off the dance floor. “Yes?”

“I…” Where was her brain? “Nice suit.”

“Came straight from work.”

“Work? But it’s…” She glanced at the watch that hid the evidence of her marvelously bronzed skin. Maybe she should switch it to her other wrist. “It’s almost eleven o’clock on a New Year’s Eve. What do you do?”

“Financial consultant.”

“Oh.” Think of an interesting response. “I had a piggy bank when I was a kid.”

He cocked an amused eyebrow. “Was it pink?”

“Yes. I named her Willemina and…” Cassie stopped.

“Oh, wait. You were making fun of me.”

“Not at all. I had a piggy bank of the Pillsbury Doughboy. He’s my inspiration.” But Ty was grinning now, his eyes twinkling.

Cassie grimaced. “Okay, so it wasn’t the smoothest pickup line.”

“You were trying to pick me up?” He shot her a wary glance.

“Pick you up…” Why hadn’t she left her tongue at home tonight? First thing Monday morning, she was having it surgically removed. “No, I meant…um, it was…casual conversation…”

Ty grunted and she felt his eyes on her again. “Where’d you get the tan?”

Cassie couldn’t stop the swell of warmth that surged through her veins. He’d noticed her sun-kissed skin. Even Leo hadn’t noticed. Grab this man and run.

Ack! Shut up, hormones. She wasn’t interested in a man. She was single and damn happy about it. “I just got back from the Bahamas. My honeymoon.”

Her honeymoon? Portraying herself as married to an incredibly handsome man who was perceptive enough to notice her tan? Just plain stupid. Definite choke under pressure. Or it would be if she’d been trying to impress him. Which she wasn’t.

Ty’s gaze flicked to her left hand, one eyebrow quirking when he spotted her bare finger.

Self-consciously, Cassie slid her hand out of view. “Um. It wasn’t actually my honeymoon. I mean, it was supposed to be my honeymoon. I went alone.”

Both of his luxuriously dark eyebrows were raised now and he wasn’t looking at her tan anymore. He was staring into her eyes, as if he really wanted to know what secrets she was hiding.

Or she was hallucinating from too much chocolate.

“How’d you end up going on your honeymoon alone? Sounds like an interesting story.”

“You must be new in town.”

He blinked, probably startled by the change in subject. “Actually, I’ve lived here for six months,” he said. “Why?”

“Are you a hermit? It’s pretty much the only way you could have lived here and not heard about my amazing wedding or lack thereof.”

“That juicy, huh?”

“In comparison to the number of other interesting things that happen in this town during December, yes.” She lifted her brow. “So? Hermit?”

He glanced at her. “I work.”

“You mean, you never get out of the house to socialize so you have no idea what goes on in this town and you have no friends?” Amazing! One person in town with whom her reputation was intact! A glorious feeling!

He narrowed his eyes, obviously not appreciating her free therapy. “So? What happened with your wedding?” He touched her arm suddenly. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Oh, she was definitely going to melt. A seriously hot guy who respected her privacy. What more could a woman ask for?

Maybe being single wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

“Cassie? Is that you?” The voice of her ex-fiancé shattered her fantasy like a rock through a stained glass window.

I don’t hear you.

“Cassie?”

Crud. She’d heard that. Go away.

But the whine of his voice grew closer and she knew the infectious poison wasn’t going to be deflected. He was coming. She slapped her hand against the wall and bent over, bracing herself as her stomach congealed into a sodden lump, dropped to her toes and began to ooze out the soles of her feet.

What a fine time to discover she wasn’t actually ready to face Drew yet. It would have been exponentially more convenient to have that realization before she’d vomited all over his feet. And Ty’s feet. Not that she was actually going to vomit. She was way too emotionally together to do something pathetic like that.

She hoped.

Note to self: sometimes delusions weren’t a good thing. Like thinking she could fly. Imagine if she thought she could fly, and jumped off the Empire State Building. A clear example of when a delusion could be a bad thing.

Or imagine attending a dance where your ex-fiancé would be. Imagine thinking you were prepared to face him, only to learn that no, you actually weren’t.

A great little nugget she’d be sure to incorporate into her future de-stressing strategies.

See? Something good could come of every situation. Was she a plucky survivor or what?

“Are you okay?” Ty’s amused expression had morphed into one of endearingly genuine concern. Or it would have been endearing if she wasn’t feeling so ill. What was up with the chocolate? It obviously wasn’t working exceptionally well at the moment. He touched her shoulder, his hand warm and reassuring through the soft angora. “You don’t look so hot.”

“Thanks. It’s every girl’s dream to be told she doesn’t look hot.” Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Ty’s cheeks turned a faint red, or at least she thought they did. It was hard to tell in the dim light with her eyes getting all foggy and the room starting to spin. “I didn’t mean it like you didn’t look good. You do look good. Pretty. Not that I noticed. I just meant you look like you don’t feel well.”

She would have patted his arm in consolation, if she weren’t clinging to the wall for dear life. “Just a touch of indigestion. I’m fine. Really.”

“Cassie! It is you.” An unwelcome hand latched on to her arm. “I didn’t realize you were back.”

She saw Ty’s eyes flick over her shoulder, and she knew this was her moment. All eyes in the room would be surreptitiously aimed in their direction, hoping for a scandal, a scene…anything to gossip about.

She could spin around, slam her knee into Drew’s crotch and then saunter off as if she were a total diva. Or she could remember that some people in the room were future clients and might not be all that impressed with a stress management consultant perpetrating violent acts on the weaker sex.

Refusing to contemplate the irony that her emergency stash of chocolate was in Leo’s purse on the dance floor, much too far away to be of any use whatsoever, Cassie took a deep breath and lifted her chin.

Then she plastered a brilliant smile on her face and turned to face her ex-fiancé, Drew Smothers. “Hi, Drew.”

There he was, in his blond glory, his suit that…hmmm…didn’t seem to fit nearly as well as Ty’s did. And he was wonderfully pale, a victim of December in Gardenbloom.

“Didn’t you take our tickets?” he asked.