Lena Ambroise was a swan—exotic, long-limbed, and graceful with dark brown hair and light brown eyes. When she entered a room nowadays people looked, men and women alike. But this wasn’t always the case. All through high school, Lena roamed the halls of Westchester High with her head down and eyes averted. If anyone did notice her, she cringed because abuse was always sure to follow.

Back then, as a short, chubby girl with frizzy brown hair and an olive complexion cursed with teenage acne, she made an easy target for the tall, lithe blondes that dominated the school. Being saddled with the name Magdalena Ambrosia certainly hadn’t helped her cause.

Tonight, Lena reminded herself that she was no longer that meek little girl. She was a beautiful woman men desired, and on this night she was here to make sure one man—and one man only—desired her. It was time Chip Randall, former captain of the swim team and the boy she’d loved all through high school, got what was coming to him for humiliating her one long ago night.

She pushed open the doors and entered the high school. A flood of hurtful memories rushed at her, almost knocking her over. She shook her head to clear away the old memories and looked around. Little had changed in the last 10 years, except for her. The ugly duckling was gone, transformed into a beautiful swan.

“Can I help you?” asked a tired looking blonde. She was seated at a table with an array of name tags spread out in front of her.

Mandy Callahan, Lena thought to herself, one of the blonde, bitchy cheerleaders. Not aging particularly well either, she mused.

“Are you here for the reunion?” Mandy asked.

“Yes, I am,” Lena said, looking her straight in the eye, daring Mandy to recognize her.

“I’m afraid I don’t recognize you. Are you a graduate?”

“Just meeting a friend,” Lena said, dismissing her.

Mandy started to say something else, but Lena walked away, smiling to herself.

Lena stepped inside the crowded gym and looked around. The room was decorated for the party with a banner that read “Welcome Back Class of 2003.” There was a buffet table and bar set up in the back.

With her head held high, Lena walked slowly toward the bar. She didn’t have to look around to know that every eye was on her. She knew they were trying to figure out who she was. That was okay with her. She knew she looked great because she felt great. She had meticulously chosen the deep, burgundy sleeveless turtleneck dress for tonight. Although she showed very little skin, the dress clung to her every curve, a figure she’d worked hard to obtain. She’d also added 3 inch heels, making her five-foot-nine for the night. With small hips, long legs, and high medium-sized breasts, she was a far cry from the girl she’d once been.

“Sparkling water with lime,” she told the bartender. Tonight she was not going to dull any of her senses with alcohol. She’d waited ten years for this, and she wanted to be alert to enjoy every moment of it.

“Here ya go,” the cute guy said, placing the drink in front of her. “You’re not from around here are you?”

“What makes you say that?”

“You have an accent.”

“Actually, I am,” she said, taking a sip of water. “Born and raised. I moved away after graduation and lived abroad for many years. Guess I picked up a bit of an accent.”

“Smart lady to get away from here,” he said with a smile.

Lena was about to agree with him when she felt a hand on her back. She turned around, looked into the face of Ben Goodwin, a former football player, and smiled.

“Yes?”

“My friends and I…” He pointed to a group of men, most of whom looked familiar, but she didn’t know or care to remember their names. Except for one. Standing in the middle of the group was Chip Randall, looking as perfect and dangerous as he did a decade ago, and drinking her in as if she were his morning cup of coffee. “We were over there,” Ben continued, “trying to figure out why we didn’t remember such a ravishing beauty graduating with us. God help us if you are here with someone. So, are you?”

“I’m alone,” she purred. “Maybe one of you…” She turned to the group of men openly ogling her. “…will get something extra special if you can figure out who I am.”

All but Chip surrounded her. He stood in the background, watching her. She noticed that by now, many of the women in the room were whispering and pointing, but she ignored them. Some things never change, she thought.

“Did you graduate with us?” Ben asked, his gaze dropping to where her nametag should have been if she had put one on, which she hadn’t.

“Yes, Ben, I did.”

Ben seemed surprised but then smiled, tapping his name tag with a fingertip.

“I didn’t read your name tag if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Who am I?” asked one man, covering his name.

“Lee Donnelly.” Luckily their names were coming back to her.

Lee raised an eyebrow and flashed a pleased grin.

“I can’t believe you went to school with us. I know I would have noticed you,” said Ben, and all the others agreed. “You’re so beautiful, and that accent—”

“Oh, you noticed me,” she said, then threw back her head and laughed.

“Magdalena Ambrosia,” said Chip, breaking through the circle of men.

She smiled. “I go by Lena Ambroise now. Gentleman, I believe Mr. Randall has cracked the code.” She looked him in the eye and added in a husky voice, “And he’ll get his reward in due time.”

Their jaws dropped simultaneously, but they admitted defeat and eventually walked away, leaving Lena and Chip alone.

“Very good, Chip. What gave me away?”

“I go by Charles now, Lena Ambroise.”

“Touché.” She knew he went by Charles nowadays. She had done her homework but didn’t want to let on how much she knew about him…at least not yet. “So, how did you figure out who I was?”

“A little bit was the accent. I’d heard you moved to Europe after graduation, and the rest, well, let’s just say it was a feeling.”

“A good feeling I hope. You always were a smart boy.”

“Not so smart,” he said, looking her in the eye. “Anyway, I’m surprised to see you here. High school couldn’t hold too many happy memories for you.”

She shrugged. “Guess I wanted a little sweet revenge. Can you blame a girl?”

“No, and from the way most of the women in here are looking at you, I’d say you succeeded. You really are incredibly beautiful.”