The High School Reunion: Surprised by Love, #1

By Laura Burton

Imagine this: You're dolled up for a swanky dinner at the Ritz, expecting a magical evening with your boyfriend of three years. But instead of sweeping you off your feet, he shatters your heart into a million pieces. And just days before your high school reunion, no less!

With your world turned upside-down, you're mortified to face your old classmates. But fate steps in when you collide with your high school sweetheart – the one who broke your heart, now single and ready to mingle.

In a twist of delicious irony, you both agree to feign a romantic reunion, just for the night. But when secret stolen kisses feel more real than pretend, you wonder if this charade could become your second chance at true love.

"The High School Reunion" is a sparkling, feel-good novella brimming with wit, charm, and the magic of second chances. Indulge in this enchanting tale of rediscovered love that will have you grinning from ear to ear. Don't wait another moment – scroll up and one-click now to dive into this heartwarming romantic adventure!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura Burton
• Release date: Jun 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223205890

Book preview

Chapter One

JOSIE

There are three types of showers that I take. The, what I call, in and out :  I soap and scrub for as little time as possible while leaning forward so as not to get my hair wet. Then I hop out and towel off before my hair starts to frizz in the steam.

This is the type of shower I take when I’m running late for work––or when my mother calls to announce that she’s in town and wants to swing by for a visit.

And judging by how often I’m pressing the snooze button in the mornings, it’s probably the type of shower I take most often.

Then there’s the lather and shave shower: I shampoo and condition my hair, bending in awkward ways to reach everywhere I can with the razor. And despite my best endeavors, I almost always cut something.

Then there’s the goddess shower: I dust off all of my self-care tools, like the long-handled brush with bristles made of sandpaper, which scrubs off the top two layers of my skin.

My body mask. Jar of mud. Himalayan salts. And when I’m feeling particularly joie de vivre, I’ll light a candle or two as well.

Then I embark on a powerful journey of equal parts self-love and self-destruction. As I scrub, shave, steam and soak my whole body in an attempt to turn my thirty-something body into a high school cheerleader.

The goddess shower is so time intensive, that it is only practiced when super special occasions come up.

Like today, when Todd, my long-term boyfriend, has just invited me to have dinner with him at the Ritz.

This is it. 

There’s only one reason a boyfriend of three years suddenly invites his girlfriend to a place as grand and luxurious as The Ritz.

A proposal.

Just the thought gives me butterflies.

Finally, all of my feminine wiles have charmed the rich bachelor into making the move. 

That makes me sound like a money grabber. 

I’m not.

I like Todd a lot. He ticks all of the boxes.

He’s handsome - his angular face sticks out in all the right places, strong jaw, nice cheekbones. Dimples.

He’s funny - he often takes me to fancy dinner parties at work and has the whole room laughing with his dry wit.

Kind - Yes, he’s rich and successful, but he’s let none of it go to his head. The other day, I saw him giving flowers to Margery, the newly widowed neighbor in the ground floor apartment of his complex and he listened to her talking about her late husband until he was late for a meeting.

On second thought, maybe tonight he’s going to ask me to move in with him.

I suck in a nervous breath at the idea.

Moving in with Todd sets my A type brain into overdrive. Without the commitment of marriage, how can I be certain where we’ll end up in three months? Six months. Nine years!

If I don’t make a solid plan now, I could end up sitting on the sidewalk with two luggage bags and nowhere to call home in the future.

Sure, people get divorced, so marriage isn’t without its risks, but the idea of selling up my apartment and going all-in without some kind of assurance that he’s not going to run off with the secretary at any given moment makes me sick to the stomach with anxiety.

I’m the kind of person who needs to know what is happening, and I need the big relationship stuff to be in writing before I make any major moves.

And there’s one person to blame for my crazy mindset. Logan.

He had me lured in, dropping all the barriers around my heart, and oh, how I swooned over that man! He was my high school sweetheart. Then my college sweetheart. And then he became an NFL player and… Logan dropped me faster than a millennial giving up on their new year resolutions.

Todd came along and he’s the total opposite to Logan. He’s suave, cool and gentle. Attentive. I have to wonder if the guy is a saint, because we’ve never even passed second base and he’s still around.

But if I’m brutally honest with myself, I just don’t feel that zing with Todd.

Not like the way I was with Logan.

With Logan, I had the primal urge to jump on him and tear his shirt off like a wild tiger tucking into its prey.

But I’m not that kind of person. Not anymore. Now, I love watching the sickly sweet romances that most of my friends roll their eyes over. They make me feel happy and content.

Now, the thought of ripping shirts and getting intimate, makes me slightly nauseous.

To be that vulnerable with a person requires a lot of commitment.

I want a ring on my finger, and a decent heads up so I can prepare for it.

Then I can schedule a full body wax, do a sixty day workout program, followed by a juice cleanse to get my body in shape and then I’ll read self help books to get an idea of what I’m supposed to do.

But physical stuff aside, Todd and I are a good match. And with our relationship moving forward, it might make me more assertive at work. Maybe I’ll get a promotion.

Besides, moving out of my rotten apartment will be nice.

I flick my hair back and look at myself in the wall mirror by the door. The red dress clings to me like a second skin, and if it didn’t have my shape wear on, I’m pretty sure I’d look like an over-filled sausage link.

Take a breath Josie. You look cute.

I nod to my reflection, repeating affirmations in my head. It helps with the sickly feeling swirling around in my stomach.

I glance at my bare wedding finger.

Yes, tonight, Todd is going to put a ring on it. And it’s about freaking time as well.

The buzzer makes me jump.

He’s here.

I slap on a slick of red lipstick, throw my purse over my shoulder and march out of the door, grinning from ear to ear.

*

I look around me in the most prestigious restaurant in the city. It’s all glitzy with the fancy chandeliers, and carpeted floors.

The gentle murmur of the guests and the clink of cutlery sounds almost muted against the orchestral music playing in the background.

The servers look like the penguins in Mary Poppins. With black suits that pleat at the back and white button up shirts with black buttons.

One of them leans over, smelling of musk and essential oils, and pours the finest wine into my glass.

Thank you, I say in my poshest voice.

Todd sits across the table, looking dashing as ever. His jet black hair is gelled to the side, and his eyes keep moving, as though he’s keeping a look out for something.

A shiny sheen of sweat covers his upper lip.

He’s nervous.

So, this is nice, I say, breaking the silence. He looks at me now, and tugs on his shirt collar as he clears his throat.

How was the salmon? he asks me. I give him an appreciative nod. Delicious.

He puffs out a breath and sits up. Good, good.

He had been quiet all through dinner. Part of me wonders if he’s going to back out. I’ve never seen him this worked up before.

"Josie, I’ve