Epilogue.

Glasses clinked, the expensive sound of crystal combining with faux-excited chatter to deafen the muted music piped through the ceiling. White linen draped round tables set for six, graced by centerpieces formed from crystal vases and long-stemmed white and butter yellow roses. Those colors, with the green stems and gold ribbons, proudly announced their high school colors. Real gold silverware lay beside web-thin china. Just like it had been in high school, the gathering was overpriced, pretentious, and above all, boring.

Peyton was currently trying to remember what she’d had in common with these people. And she was failing. At least tomorrow she could say that going to her five year class reunion had not been her idea.

“…and did you hear that Henry Baker filed for bankruptcy? That’s why he’s not here.”

Peyton watched Tiffany Green over the rim of her wine glass and kept her mouth shut. She knew for a fact that Tiffany and her husband had taken out a second mortgage on their house for a third car they couldn’t afford and that they’d missed their last payment. As usual, this was all about pretense.

Melinda Davis was the other participant in the conversation. She’d just had her third child to a third man. Rumor had it their relationship was already on the rocks.

“Oh, I know!” Melinda exclaimed. “He was siphoning funds off the accounts at his brokerage form. Fired him when they caught him. You can bet he’ll be in jail before long.”

Peyton’s head was starting to hurt. She’d been trying to get a word in edgewise for ten minutes to extricate herself from the circle, but had so far had no luck.

Tiffany had just launched into a diatribe about one of the former cheerleaders – who was supposedly on her way, but who had not yet made an appearance – when Elaina Murray – make that Peters, now – jumped into the conversation.

“You will never believe I what I just found out,” Elaina announced. She smirked at Peyton. “Oh, hi, Payday, I didn’t see you earlier. How have you been?”

“Good—“ Peyton started.

Tiffany interrupted. “Exchange the pleasantries later. What’s going on?”

Elaina shrugged apologetically at Peyton, but switched her attention to Tiffany. “Jordan Cross is engaged.”

Gasps pierced the air around her. “Are you serious?” Tiffany demanded. “Who is the lucky bitch? Someone he met in college?”

“I heard he’s working for the NSA,” Melinda contributed. “Two hundred thousand dollars a year, so ‘lucky bitch’ is right.”

Peyton snorted. “She’s still got to put up with him.”

The other three women looked at her like she was insane. “Are you kidding?” Elaina asked. “Most of the guys we went to high school with got fat and ugly since high school. Have you seen Cross lately?”

Raising one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, Peyton took a sip of her wine. Melinda’s gaze immediately zeroed in on her left hand. “And you! You got engaged, too!”

“Who’s the guy?” Tiffany wanted to know.

Peyton smiled impishly. “Oh, he’s around here somewhere,” she said. “In fact, I’m going to go find him. I’ll catch up with you later? Maybe introduce you after dinner?”

Murmured agreements and nodded acquiescence followed, so Peyton took her leave. Had they ever gossiped that much in high school? The malicious pleasure the other women expressed over other classmates’ misfortunes left Peyton cold. She was glad she hadn’t kept in touch.

“Hey, Peyton,” Tricia Morrow, one of the few people Peyton did still have contact with, appeared at her side. “Have you seen Luís? Or that gorgeous fiancé of yours?”

“Not since we got here. I got waylaid by Tiffany and her old crew.”

Tricia visibly winced. “We’ll have to keep an eye out for each other. If it happens again, I’ll be sure to rescue you.”

“Same.” The women shared a commiserating smile.

“Oh, there he is now.” Tricia smiled over Peyton’s shoulder, and the latter turned to see whether she meant her fiancé or Luís. “Tiffany and company are going to seethe with jealousy.”

“Who’s going to seethe with jealousy?” Sliding an arm around Peyton’s waist, Jordan kissed her softly. “And why do we care?”

“We don’t,” Tricia corrected, “but Marie McCayne informed me that the only reason Tiffany and Elaina showed up was to see you.”

“They can look,” Jordan shrugged, then smiled down at Peyton, “but they can’t touch.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she assured him. “I’ll break their fingers if they try.”

“You two are going to make me sick.”

Shaking her head and laughing, Tricia sauntered in the direction of the bar. Jordan tangled his fingers with Peyton’s and tugged her closer. “Think it would work on the rest of them?”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “We could certainly make the attempt.”

His answering grin was wicked. “I’m game if you are.”

“Maybe after dinner,” she laughed. “Come on.”

Tugging him after her, she led the way to their table. Luís and his wife were already seated, having materialized out of thin air. The couple, along with Tricia and her date, completed the set of people who would be sitting at their table. Peyton would never be more grateful to Tricia for arriving early and swiping the name cards from wherever they’d been placed. No one had known the difference when they’d come in.

Jordan kept his hand on the small of her back, his fingers still laced with hers as they traveled through the crowded room. It was with relief that Peyton sat.

“Do you need another drink?” Jordan asked. His mouth hovered near her ear and she shivered. It still amazed her that he had such a strong effect on her, after nearly two years of dating.

She turned her head so that their mouths brushed gently. “Not now, thanks.”

“Save it for your room!” Luís teased. “PDA is so high-school.”

“And that was so valley girl,” Tricia shot back. “Besides, you two were no better about five minutes ago when you thought no one was looking!”

Jordan toyed with the ends of her hair, which she’d left loose for the evening. “See? Not all of it’s so bad.”

“You still have to do dishes for a week,” she reminded him with a grin, reaching up to smooth her hand over his cheek. “You promised. But you’re right. It is nice to see Tricia and Luís.”

“You might find some others that surprise you.” He pulled away, settling back into his chair. “How have you been, man?”

“Not bad at all,” Luís responded. “I heard you got a job with the NSA?”

Peyton listened to the easy banter and conversation flowing around her. When she and Jordan had started dating, she never imagined it would come to this – two years later at their high school reunion, with his hand resting comfortably on her leg and his engagement ring solid on her finger.

Their wedding was planned for the end of January. Marcus had gone out and bought a new tux for the occasion, despite Peyton’s insistence that he could just wear a suit. They’d scheduled the wedding after football season, just in case his team made it to the Super Bowl. Marcus, of course, was claiming that she’d jinxed his entire team.

She unfolded the napkin on her plate, unsurprised and vaguely amused when single piece of vellum paper fluttered out. Jordan’s hand tightened briefly on her thigh.

Setting the napkin in her lap, she picked the piece of paper up. Predictably, it was in code. Peyton didn’t need a key to know what it said. It was a variation of the last note he’d given her before they started dating.

To win, you have to risk loss. I was willing to take that chance. I’m still amazed that you were, too.

I love you, Payday.

Fin.

God, that was sappy. I think I might be ill. Anyway, as promised... C'est fini!!

Much love
-K