by B. B. Miller
It hurts to take a breath; a stabbing pain slashes through me. I can hardly look at the screen as some panoramic shot of an oil refinery in the middle of the ocean is shown. “This is the first marriage for both Mr. Coleman and Miss Skinner. It’s not known how long the couple has been together, the spokesman only saying that the couple preferred to keep their relationship private. We’ll continue to bring you updates as the story develops.”
The screen switches back to an anchor desk shared by a man and a woman. “Exciting news there. Our own version of a royal wedding,” the man who is obviously a certified idiot says.
“Coleman Energy is a household name, and Senator Skinner is no stranger to the American people. A decorated war hero and successful politician. There’s been talk of a presidential run for him. There will be a lot of famous people attending this one,” the perky blonde agrees.
“A hot ticket indeed,” idiot man says. “Turning now to international news—”
Syd freezes the telly once more, silence engulfing the room.
“Sean…”
I glare at her, pushing out of the chair. “Did you know about this?” My voice sounds gritty, edgy, a little violent if I’m being honest.
“No. Of course not. This is the first I’m hearing about it.”
Stalking across the room, I shove my keys from the console table at the door in my pocket. Syd is on my heels. “Sean, wait. Don’t go—”
“This is bullshit, Syd. Utter bullshit. You don’t spend the kind of time we have together and then go off getting engaged to someone else.” I haul open the door, punching the button for the elevator.
“Please be careful. Don’t do anything—” I scowl and she shuts up. “Call me if you need anything. I’m here, okay? And don’t drive, please.” Unfortunately, those words do nothing to calm me down, but I do take her advice. Even I can recognize driving in my amped-up state isn’t a wise move.
By the time the Uber reaches Cassidy’s place, I’m beyond angry. This level of rage isn’t normal for me. I don’t even bother thanking the driver, who doesn’t recognize me, thank fuck. I pound my fist on the door of her shop, glancing once again at my unanswered messages. Not hearing this from her first is like a blade to my heart. How the hell could I have been so wrong about this? About her?
“Cassidy! Open up!” I punch my fist again and rest my forehead against the cool metal. “I swear to fucking God if you don’t open this door right the fuck now…” Backing up to the edge of the curb, I look up, seeing muted light in the windows of her loft above the shop.
“Cassidy!” I bend down, finding a couple of rocks on the ground and firing them up to her window. They only hit lightly, pathetically falling back to the sidewalk. Pacing is no use either. I put the phone to my ear, calling her once more. Voice mail it is, and I unleash a message. “Open your fucking door right now.” Fucking hell. I tug at my hair in frustration.
Fine. She wants to play it that way? I lean my back against the door and slide down, settling in. She has to open it at some point. It’s her home, her shop, her livelihood, and I’ll stay here all goddamn night if I have to.
I pull my knees up to my chest and clutch my phone, resisting the temptation to go to a news website. Fucking engaged! How does that happen? It guts me to think I’ve been played by Cassidy. Was I just a good time for her before she settled into domestic bliss? If that’s the case, why wasn’t she just honest about it? Fuck knows it wouldn’t be the first time a woman only wanted me for sex.
A few drops of rain bead on my phone and I turn my face up to the blackened sky. “Can’t give me a break, can you?” A crash of thunder is the answer as the sky opens up and a deluge of rain unleashes on the street.
It rains for a long time. Long enough my T-shirt is soaked through and there’s a shallow puddle forming under my boots. The rain is unrelenting, coming down in sheets, amplifying that unique New York earthy scent while I slowly lose my mind.
About an eon later, a dark town car pulls up to the curb, and I feel my jaw set as the back door opens. If he’s with her, I swear to fuck I will not be responsible for what I do.
In the light cast from the streetlamp, I see those familiar legs drop out of the car first. She’s got sky-high heels on and a flowing dress that steals my breath and hurts my heart.
She raises her clutch over her head, shielding herself from the rain after closing the door. She hops over the puddle on the street and hurries to the door as I slowly rise up. I’m drenched, dripping water as she stops short when she finally sees me.
“Sean.” Even after the clusterfuck I’ve seen on the news tonight, just my name on her lips has me all twisted up. Her eyes widen as she takes me in. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting to find me here.
I fold my arms across my chest. It’s not nearly as intimidating as I want it to be. I’m a drowned rat at this point. “You got something you’d like to share with me, love?” My words slice through the night.
“What?” She lowers her clutch, and shakes her head.
“Don’t bother with the innocent act. I saw, all right? I saw it all. What I want to know is why. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Tell you?” She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “It’s on the news already?”
I let out a huff. “Good news travels fast, apparently. Congratulations, by the way. You’re the royal American wedding dream come true.” Her eyes flash at me.
“That’s not what this is.” Lights from an oncoming vehicle practically blind us as it comes to a screeching halt at the curb. “We shouldn’t do this here. Please. Just—”
“Why not out here? I mean, if you’re going to destroy me, this is pretty damn apropos, don’t you think?” I motion to the rain-soaked street.
She reaches for my arm, and as much as I want to pull her into me, I just can’t. Not until I understand what the fuck is going on. When I lean away, I can see the pain in her eyes, but I’m not sure I trust it. “Please just come inside.” She opens up her clutch and digs around for her keys. “We shouldn’t do this here.” She nods to the town car, and I see a flash I recognize as a camera. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. The goddamn paparazzi have started to descend.
I stand behind her, blocking both of our faces, even though it’s pointless. They obviously know it’s her shop, and my hair is easy enough to figure out for any scumbag photographer out there who knows anything at all about music.
She fumbles with the keys, but eventually unlocks and pushes the door open and quickly steps into the shop. I slam the door shut behind me and tighten my hand on the handle to ground me. The only light in the store is muted from the recessed flooring that highlights her perfect designs. She’s standing close to one, a gentle glow making her look like a rain-soaked angel. It’s an effort to clear my throat. “Start talking. Now.”
“We need to get you dry. You’re drenched and I don’t want you catching—”
“Oh, now you care about me? When I’m dripping all over your precious hardwood floor?” I’m practically roaring.
“Stop it. Yelling at each other isn’t going to solve this.” She waves her hand between us, that fiery spark we make igniting as it always does.
“Then you tell me what is. Tell me why, after the time we’ve spent together, do I find out on some crappy news channel that you’re engaged to another man. A man you told me less than a day ago you didn’t want to marry.” She stares at me, brushing her damp hair away from her face. She’s wet from the rain, her hair a little messed up, but she’s also perfect. Perfect for me in every single flawed way. “Fuck, you look amazing right now.”
“I’m drenched!” she yells, motioning at her dress, and then throws her hands up in frustration.
“You’re beautiful. You’re always so fucking beautiful it hurts. It’s hurting me right now not to—Fuck. ” I palm the back of my neck, pacing away from her. I stop at one of the mannequins draped in an intricate lace dress, letting my gaze fall over the design. I know how much each and eve
ry one of these dresses means to her. How she pours her heart and soul into them. She’s showed that side of herself to me. The fact that I know that gives me just a bit of hope. “Was this real at all for you?” I turn to her, standing my ground, resisting the temptation to go to her.
Her expression softens. “Of course it was. It is.”
“So, what happened then? Tell me and don’t give me some line.” I’m dripping water all over the floor. This whole thing is a colossal mess.
“I’d never do that, Sean.”
“But you must know how this looks, Cass. I mean, I’m used to two things when it comes to women. The ones who play games and the ones who just want to say they fucked a rock star. I didn’t think either one of those was you.”
She’s quiet, my words hitting her hard, I think. When she does speak, it’s hushed, reserved. “It’s not. My dad, he…he spoke out of turn tonight. Jack did propose to me. I told you that.” Her hands tighten on her clutch purse, her knuckles turning white.
I level her with a look, and she glances away. “You also said you weren’t ready to get married.”
“I’m not. Mom overheard me telling Kevin about it tonight and she told Dad. She either didn’t hear me say I couldn’t marry him, or she ignored it; I don’t know for sure yet. Dad took it upon himself to tell the world tonight. I had no idea.” I frown, listening to her. She’s been blindsided by this just as much as I have.
“Why the fuck would he do that?”
Her shoulders lift. “I don’t know! Why does he do anything? To gain an advantage, to push his agenda. He sees something, and he acts. That’s the way he’s always been.”
“Without talking to you?”
“He just assumed…they both did.” She takes a deep breath. “They brought up what happened at UCLA again tonight.” I can see the pain in her eyes, and I cross the room to her to grip her shoulders.
“For Christ’s sake. You don’t owe him anything. Why can’t you see that?”
Her eyes well with tears that rip at my heart. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see what it did to me, to him. What it would have done to his candidacy. The press is lethal. You know that better than most.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass. He’s your father. He’s supposed to defend you, and not expect anything in return. Even I know that’s what a good parent does.” My voice echoes in the store, making her flinch.
“He’s a good parent.”
I stalk away from her, glancing out the window to the town car still parked on the street. “Sean, he is. He protected me when no one else would have.”
“And now he thinks you owe him something, and that’s not right, Cass. Not even remotely.” I turn away from the window to look at her.
“I know.”
“Do you? Do you really know? Are you seriously considering this sham of a proposal?”
Her eyes search mine. “No! But I didn’t have a chance to tell them yet.”
I stalk back through the trail of water on the floor to her and take her face in my hands. “Cass. I want you to really think about this. If doing this for your father is more important than your happiness, then you should really make sure you realize what you’re giving up. I want you. All of you. Not for some fling or for some experiment.” I can feel her smooth skin and tiny shivers under my fingertips as I caress her cheek. “All day today, I was at the music academy, and all I could think of was sharing that with you. Do you understand? That’s never happened before. Ever. So as crazy as that sounds, and as inconvenient as that might be for you and for your father, that’s how I feel. I’m crazy about you. I don’t care about your past, or about how long we’ve known each other. I only know this is something special. I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you.” Her breath hitches, and she swallows as I brush my thumb over her lips. “But I will, if Jack’s proposal is what you want. If it’s really what you need in your life right now. But you have to decide that.”
“Sean…” Her hand slides against my neck, and I close my eyes, savoring her touch.
“Don’t decide now. Think about it. Really think about it, and when you decide, you know where to find me.” The lump in my throat threatens my breathing, but I swallow it down, press a lingering kiss to her forehead, and despite everything in me telling me to stay, I leave her to think.
Cassidy
The ache in my chest is so painful, it feels like it will never go away. The quiet click of the door closing behind him sounds like a death knell in the silence of the room.
Like I’m wading through mud, I walk to the door and see Sean getting blinded by flashes. I lock it before making my way upstairs. Shoes are kicked off automatically, and I leave my wet dress in a purple puddle on the floor with my bra and underwear before flopping on my bed and drawing the comforter around me like a cocoon. My head is pounding from all the alcohol I drank at dinner and the hurt I saw in Sean’s beautiful eyes. I want to shut my brain off, but the unbelievable events of the evening keep playing on an endless, excruciating loop.
After my father made his staggering declaration, I had sat frozen as well-wishers and waiters serving dinner swirled around me. The social smile plastered on my face felt like a macabre mask. Kevin, bless him, handled the conversation for both of us and intercepted any question asked of me so I didn’t have to talk, but kept shooting me worried looks like he was afraid I’d burst apart. I’m surprised I didn’t.
I didn’t eat. I don’t think I even picked up my fork. But they couldn’t refill my wine glass fast enough. Alcohol was the only way I could control the rising flood of panic and anger at my parents’ smug smiles across the room. At least they’d had the sense not to sit at the same table. I’m not normally a violent person, but if they had been within range of my cutlery, we might have given people even more to talk about.
As soon as things started to wrap up, I was out of my chair and shocked the hell out of my mother by practically dragging her into an adjoining storage room. Things got ugly from there.
“What the hell was that?” I’d demanded with my hands on my hips and fire in my eyes. There wasn’t much room between the stacks of extra chairs and row of tables on their sides, but I didn’t care. “Where the fuck did you get the idea I was going to marry Jack?”
“Cassidy!” She stared at me like I’d grown a third head. “Language! Someone could hear you.”
“I don’t care if all of New York hears me,” I ground out. “Tell me! And what gave you the idea to blurt something like that out without consulting me first? What the hell were you thinking?”
She crossed her arms, the vision of the perfect politician’s wife in one of her many polished suit-dresses, and frowned in disapproval. “I stepped out to the restroom and heard you talking to your brother tonight. You sounded over the moon for Jack, but hadn’t told him yet. I know you, Cassidy,” she said, softening her tone and shaking her head with a tiny, affectionate smile, as if I was five again and asking to drive my grandfather’s giant tractor. She spread her hands and gave me one of her motherly know-it-all looks that always precedes a lecture. “You always overthink things and need a little push to get off the dime. From what you were saying it’s obvious you love Jack, but you were tying yourself up in knots over committing. So your father and I decided to help.”
“Help!” I laughed, but it sounded hollow. “You decided to ‘help’ by taking away my right to choose? In front of all those people?” I flung my hand toward the door, almost hitting a stack of chairs; angry tears pricked at my eyes. “You’re helping yourselves, that’s what.”
The door opened, making us both jump, and my father strode in, looking even taller in the cramped space. But he didn’t look happy. “What’s going on in here?” He quickly shut the door behind him. “What the hell are you doing in a closet? Dale is keeping the Pfizer people busy, but we have to get back in there. Marilyn.” He looked at my mother, but I spoke.
“How could you make an announcement like that without asking me?” I dem
anded, wheeling to face him. He frowned, looking between my mother and me. “How could you, Dad?”
“Your mother said Jack had proposed,” he said, as if that was the only part of the equation that counted. “We weren’t going to take the risk of you eloping. Your mother has dreamed of your wedding for a long time.”
“That’s…that’s your excuse?” I sputtered, stunned by the absurdity of it all. “I haven’t even accepted, and you’re worried that I would elope?”
He actually rolled his eyes at me. “For heaven’s sake, Cassidy. Why wouldn’t you accept? Jack is a stellar match for you.”
I gaped at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“And tonight was a perfect time to announce it, before the new poll numbers come out. I just got a text from Bert Coleman, and he’s over the moon.” He acted as if I hadn’t spoken. “So, stop all this drama. It’s beneath you.”
“We were just helping you, Cassidy.” My mother takes his arm, forming a united front. “Besides, time is marching on. You’re thirty-two, honey. You and Jack will make amazing parents.”
I was so angry, I’m surprised I didn’t catch fire. It felt like I was trapped in one of those floaty prison squares in the old Superman movies; spinning through space and silently screaming into the void. They both stood there frowning, as if they’d done me this huge favor and were confused because I wasn’t falling to my knees in gratitude.
Then, as I opened my mouth to tell them I wasn’t going to marry Jack and that they could both go to hell, my mother lowered her chin, her eyes boring into mine, and fired her final salvo. “It’s time to grow up, Cassidy. You’re not in college anymore. Thank goodness.”
Pulling my knees to my chest, I let the tears finally fall against my pillow. It felt like a punch to the gut when she’d said that. Seeing the distaste in my father’s eyes at the reminder of my past shattered me. Kevin had come in then, but I don’t remember what he’d said, just that my parents left. He promised to talk to Dad and get him to issue a correction, but I couldn’t talk about it. I wanted to pretend it was just a bad dream. That my parents hadn’t done what they always did, and assumed I’d go along with whatever they wanted.