Dying for Devil's Food Read online

  “Code name: Regina George,” Tate said.

  “Oh, you mean Cassi—­” Angie began but he interrupted.

  “What is the point of having a code name for her if you go and use her real name?” he asked.

  “Are you talking about Cassidy somebody or other?” Joe asked.

  Angie gasped. “How do you know about her?”

  “Mel told me,” he said.

  “You told him?” Angie went wide-­eyed. “About how she wrote your name and number in all of the boys’ bathrooms?”

  “What?” Joe’s head whipped toward Mel.

  “I didn’t get into the particulars,” Mel said to Angie. Then she looked at Joe. “It wasn’t that bad. My brother, Charlie, took care of it.”

  “Did he?”

  “Yes, he apparently scribbled out my number and then wrote odes to Cassidy’s generosity with her charms and included her phone number. My dad raised his allowance for that one,” Mel said.

  “I knew I liked him,” Joe said. But his lips were tight and Mel knew he hated that she had been bullied in school. She wrapped an arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “Really. I have you and Tate and Angie. Plus, our cupcakes look amazing. Let’s go see them, then if it’s weird we can skedaddle.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Joe said.

  They began to walk toward the registration table. Mel was halfway across the floor when she caught a glimpse of red hair out of the corner of her eye. Some survival instinct must have kicked in because she turned toward Joe.

  “What is it, cupcake? You have a weird look on your face,” he said.

  “Weird?” she asked. “Must be allergies.”

  “Mel, what’s going on?” he asked.

  “Oh my god, is that you?” a shrill voice cried across the crowded lobby. Had Cassidy’s voice always been that screechy? Mel couldn’t remember. “It is you! Angie DeLaura, well, look at you. You haven’t changed a bit. You’re just as short as ever.”

  There was a beat of silence. Mel guessed that Angie was trying to decide if this was a compliment or not. Given the source, Mel was betting not.

  “Neither have you,” Angie said. The disdain in her voice left no doubt that it wasn’t a compliment.

  “And, Tate, you’re still hanging out with little Angie? Isn’t that precious?” Cassidy asked.

  “Well, given that she’s my wife, yes, I’d say it is very precious,” he said.

  Mel smiled. The warmth and affection in Tate’s voice was the perfect bucket of dirty water to be tossed onto the wicked witch.

  “Huh, if I remember right, you always traveled in the threesome,” Cassidy said. “Where’s your third? What was her name? You know, the big girl?”

  Her voice was getting louder as she came closer. Mel felt her chest get tight as she realized Cassidy Havers-­Griffin was closing in. She looped her arm through Joe’s and tried to tug him out of the lobby, but he was busy getting their name tags from Brittany Nilsson at the sign-­in table. Brittany was gushing over Joe like he was the president of their class instead of the one four years ahead of theirs.

  “I remember you, Joe DeLaura. Go Devils!” Brittany cheered.

  “Are you ready, honey?” Mel asked him. “We should go.”

  “Sure, just a second. I’m still looking for your name tag,” he said.

  Mel glanced at the table in front of them. It was massive and it was covered with badges. They could be here all night and the enemy was closing in!

  “That’s okay,” she said. She forced a bright smile. “I don’t need one.”

  “Everybody needs one,” Brittany said. She tucked her chin-­length black hair behind her ear and gave Mel a flat stare. Brittany was short and sturdy and barked orders a lot, more like a tank commander than the leader of the pep squad, or so Mel had always thought. “How will people know who you are if—­”

  “Are you kidding me? I know who she is!” A man jostled up next to Mel. He smelled of beer as he thrust his buzz-­cut head and lantern jaw into her personal space. “Give me an M!”

  “Oh, god,” Mel said. She blinked. It had been years but she’d know that deep voice anywhere. “Dwight Pickard.”

  “Give me an E!” he cried. “Hey, Cassidy, look who’s here!”

  With a squeal, the tall redhead who’d been talking to Angie and Tate approached. Mel closed her eyes for a moment, hoping that this wouldn’t be as horrible as she feared and wishing she had a cupcake or four in her hand to help her get through it.

  “Is that—­?” Cassidy asked. Her long red hair was as smooth as water and it flowed around her shoulders like liquid fire. Her big bazooms and button nose were the same, as was her tall, tiny-­waisted figure. She was wearing false eyelashes and her makeup was a bit on the heavy side, but otherwise Cassidy Havers looked exactly the same. She even wore the same vibrant pink lipstick she’d worn in high school. Mel felt as if she was time-­warping back to the absolute worst days of her life.

  Cassidy peered at her with a narrowed gaze. She leaned back and studied Mel, then she moved around her and checked her out from every angle. It made Mel feel vulnerable. She half expected Cassidy to pants her, or worse.

  “Well, well, well, can you believe it, Dwight?” Cassidy asked her longtime partner in bullying. “It looks like Mel­ephant finally tried a diet that worked. Honestly, Mel, I didn’t recognize you. I mean where is the rest of you? What are you, a fourth or a fifth of the size you used to be?”

  “A tenth,” Dwight said and then laughed.

  Mel felt her throat get tight. This. This right here was exactly what she’d been dreading. That feeling of being made to feel worthless, ugly, rejected. Oh, how she hated it.

  A pair of arms slipped around her from behind. Joe. He pulled her back against his front, lowered his head, and propped his chin on her shoulder. He eyed Cassidy and Dwight with one eyebrow raised as if he had no idea who they were but was quite certain they weren’t important.

  “Hey, cupcake,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear him. “They made a mistake on your name tag.”

  “They did?” Mel asked. She was half afraid he was going to slap a badge on her that read Melephant. She saw Cassidy watching them through suspicious eyes.

  “Yeah, they put you down as Melanie Cooper and not as Mrs. Joe-­DeLaura-­to-­be,” he said. “Clearly an oversight. I want the entire world to know how lucky I am that you’ve finally agreed to be my wife.”

  Then he kissed her. It wasn’t a friendly kiss, either. It was full of passion, affection, and love. If high-­school Mel had known this moment was waiting for her through all of the bullying, she would have gone through it all with a smile just to get here to this moment.

  When he pulled back, she blinked at him and said, “I love you so much.”

  “Marry me right now,” he said.

  Mel burst out laughing. Ever since Tate and Angie had gotten married, Joe had been teasing her daily with random “let’s get married right now” suggestions. One of these days, she was going to shock him and say yes.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let me get this straight.” Cassidy held up two perfectly manicured hands in a stop gesture. “You two are together, as in a couple?” She glanced at her bestie, the same one she’d had in high school, Megan Mareez, who had just arrived, and asked, “Did you know about this?”

  “About what?”

  “Mele . . . Melanie Cooper is dating Joe DeLaura,” Cassidy said. She waved her hand at them as if Megan might have missed them.

  “We’re engaged, actually,” Mel said. She patted Joe’s arm with her left hand, making sure her ring was visible, while she relished every stinking syllable.

  “It’s true. You could say I’m ‘the rest of her,’” Joe said. “The less beautiful, less brainy part of her.” Mel glanced at his
face. The look he cast Cassidy was positively glacial.

  “Well, that’s—­I mean—­how—­but you—­” Cassidy’s ability to speak left her but the look of disgust on her face was pretty easy to interpret.

  “Congratulations? Is that what you’re trying to say?” Joe offered. “Thank you.” Then he kissed Mel again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cassidy storm away, the points of her heels punching into the wooden floor as she went.

  “That’s wonderful news,” Megan said. She stepped forward and squeezed Mel’s hand. “I’m very happy for you both.”

  Tall and slender with black hair that hung halfway down her back, Megan was a beautiful woman. In high school, she had been Cassidy’s best friend but if Mel remembered right, Megan was the one person in Cassidy’s pack who didn’t just follow. She’d even comforted Mel a time or two when Cassidy’s bullying was just too much. Mel had always wondered why Megan had hung out with the other woman.

  “Megan, are you coming or what?” Cassidy snapped from across the lobby.

  Megan cast them a sheepish glance. “Excuse me.”

  “Of course,” Mel said.

  “See you around, Mele—­” Whatever Dwight had been about to say was stopped by a glare from Joe. He didn’t follow Megan and Cassidy but turned and headed for the bar.

  As they watched Cassidy storm off, Joe leaned down and whispered in Mel’s ear, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hit a woman as much as I wanted to slug that Cassidy woman. She’s a nightmare.”

  “Truly,” Mel said. “But you handled her brilliantly.” Then she rose up on her toes and kissed him. It was supposed to be swift and sweet but Joe had other ideas.

  “All right, all right, enough with the canoodling, you two,” Tate said. “We’re the newlyweds here. That’s our job.”

  “Yes, but that’s my sister,” Joe said. “No canoodling for you.”

  “All right then, let’s drink,” Tate said. “Beers for the gents and what for the ladies?”

  “Champagne,” Angie said. She linked her arm through Mel’s. “We’re celebrating.”

  “We are?” Mel asked. She looked at her friend in confusion.

  “Yes,” Angie said. “The day Melanie Cooper broke out of her cocoon and became a beautiful butterfly.”

  Mel looked at her three nearest and dearest. Then she smiled. “All right, I’ll drink to that. You know, Ange, I think you were right. I think this may just be one of the best nights of my life.”

  Three

  Mel and Angie staked out one of the tall tables by the wall while Tate and Joe elbowed their way up to the bar.

  “Fifteen years, can you believe it?” Angie asked. She scanned the room. “Look, there’s Rachel Gunderson.”

  Mel looked in the direction Angie indicated but she didn’t see Rachel anywhere. “I’m not seeing her.”

  “Stop looking for her head gear,” Angie said. “She’s in the green dress with the really cute shoes, and she’s got her hair up in a ball on her head.”

  “Oh, there she is.” Mel spotted her. “You’re right, the shoes are super cute.”

  “Oh, look!” Angie said as she saw someone behind Mel. Then she grabbed Mel’s hand and held her still. “No, scratch that. Don’t look.”

  “Okay? Help me out. Who am I not looking at?”

  “Danny Griffin,” Angie said.

  Regardless of Angie’s hold, Mel’s head whipped around in the direction Angie had been looking.

  “Oh, wow, he looks terrible,” Mel said.

  “What?” Angie asked.

  “I mean look at him, he’s all saggy and sad,” Mel said. She studied the man in the gray suit leaning against the bar. His hair was thinning and he had a serious paunch hanging over his belt. What had happened to her teenage heartthrob? This was just depressing. “I thought he was a newscaster for some sports channel. Shouldn’t he be more polished than that? Oh, gees, I’d better ask Joe to make my drink a double.”

  “But—­” Angie began but Mel interrupted.

  “I mean, how did the hottest guy in our class fall apart like that in fifteen years?” she asked. “Do you know how many times I wanted to kiss him while I was tutoring him in English? Too many to count and now, oh, it’s just sad to see how he’s unraveled.”

  “Um, that’s not Danny at the bar,” Angie said.

  “It’s not?”

  “No, that’s Wayne Pillock.”

  “Oh, hey, that makes sense,” Mel said. “He looks just like his dad, the track coach, remember?” She turned around to face Angie and came nose to necktie with a very tall man. She slowly lifted her head as she glanced up and felt her tongue get stuck on the roof of her mouth.

  “And this, right here, would be Danny Griffin,” Angie said. Her words came out a breathy sigh because Danny, unlike Wayne, looked ah-­mazing.

  His sandy blond hair still fell over his forehead in a thick wave. His pale blue eyes sparkled with laughter and a touch of mischief. The dimple in his right cheek when he smiled was there winking at Mel just like it did when they were teens, and he still had his basketball player’s body: long, lean, and all muscle. Oh, dear.

  “Hi,” Mel said. She tried to think of something else to say, but this had been about all she had ever managed to say to Danny other than explaining how to diagram a sentence. She was just relieved she was actually able to say hi and not ger-­duh-­ugh or some other equally embarrassing unintelligible sounds.

  “Melanie Cooper.” Danny grinned at her. Ack, there was the dimple again! “It’s been forever.”

  She nodded, as she was still trying to unstick her tongue.

  “Come here,” he said. He opened his arms wide for a hug and Mel stepped into his embrace as naturally as breathing. She caught a whiff of a scent that was pure Danny, a citrusy smell with subtle notes of sandalwood and leather. Divine. How many times had she sat next to him just breathing in his scent because it made her dizzy? Too many to count.

  When he finally let her go, he said, “You look as beautiful as ever.”

  And that was the thing with Danny Griffin—­she really believed he meant it. He had been unfailingly kind to everyone in high school even when he was a star athlete and could have been a real jerk. It was one of the many reasons why she couldn’t believe he had actually married Cassidy Havers. She had always believed he would end up with someone better than that.

  A slow song started to play, and Mel expected Danny to make an excuse and beat a hasty retreat to go find his wife. Instead, he held out his hand to her and said, “Come dance with me.”

  A million high school daydreams had started and ended with Danny Griffin asking her to dance. Mel stared stupidly at him until she felt a hard shove to her back. She glanced behind her and saw Angie making a shooing motion with her hands.

  “Have fun, kids,” Angie said. “Don’t worry. I’ll hold the table.”

  Mel would have protested but Danny was already taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor. There had been so many high school dances spent in the shadows with Tate and Angie, watching from the bleachers as Danny danced with Cassidy. Mel had always wondered what it would be like to feel his hand on her waist as he pulled her close and rested his cheek on her hair. And now here she was. Incredible.

  The DJ was playing “Someone Like You” by Adele, and Mel could hear the poignancy of her voice as she crooned about long-lost love. She knew she couldn’t have picked a better song to dance to with Danny. No, she hadn’t been in love with Danny, but she had sure crushed hard. She felt as if everything was coming full circle. She was here, engaged to the love of her life, while enjoying a dance with the heartbreaker of her graduating class. Again, she wished fifteen-­year-­old her could have known this was going to happen. She would have sailed through high school with much less angst.

  “Tell me, Mel, what have you been doing for the
past fifteen years?” Danny asked.

  Mel wondered if he was just being polite or if he really wanted to know. Her thoughts must have been clear on her face, because he said, “Yes, I really want to know.”

  She laughed and he grinned. “Okay, well, I went to college in LA, then did the corporate thing, which was awful. So I quit and went to culinary school in Paris and opened up my own bakery with my friends Tate Harper and Angie DeLaura-­Harper. Now we’re franchising all over the United States. It’s pretty awesome. But the best part of my life is that I’m engaged to Joe DeLaura, which is amazing because I’ve had a crush on him since I was twelve.”

  “What?” Danny looked shocked. “I thought I was the guy you were crushing on in school.”

  Mel gave him a look that was part embarrassment and part worry that she’d offended him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But Joe is . . . Joe.”

  Her face must have softened when she said his name because Danny grinned at her and said, “Aw, Mel, I’m just teasing you. I mean, Joe DeLaura was a god on the basketball court. Who wouldn’t want to marry him? Besides, I know you never liked me that way.”

  “Didn’t like you that way?” she cried. “I totally did.”

  “But you never spoke to me unless it was directions about what we were studying,” he said. “You were quite the taskmaster. I thought you thought I was just a big dumb jock.”

  “No!” Mel protested. “Not at all. You were lovely.”

  Danny made a face. “Lovely? That makes me sound like a total loser.”

  Mel laughed. “Hardly, Mr. Championship Shot at the Buzzer, no less.”

  “Well, there is that,” he said. He twirled her around the floor a bit more. “It’s cold comfort but I’ll take it.” He studied her face. “I’m really very happy for you, Mel. You deserve the best guy in the world.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “And no worries, I found him.”

  A shadow passed over his face. It was gone so fast, Mel wasn’t even sure she saw it and then he said, “Make sure you hang on to him then. When you find the one, you don’t ever want to let them go.”