Simon covered his mouth and coughed. It resembled a dog’s barking and seemed to rack his entire body. She wondered if he had pneumonia.
“Have you seen a doctor?” she asked urgently.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t fuss, Cassie.”
“Someone should. Now, lie down and I’ll heat up this soup.” Taking charge, she walked past him and into his kitchen, which to her shock was untidy. Dishes littered the counter and pots were stacked in the sink. She could see that he’d made an effort to straighten up but had either grown too tired or was too sick to continue.
Before she started heating the soup, she placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Her soup warmed on the stove as she cleaned up the kitchen. Simon had disappeared and now returned dressed in slacks and a sweater. He’d apparently showered, because his hair was wet and combed.
“This is thoughtful of you.” He actually sounded grateful.
Dishcloth in hand, Cassie regarded him suspiciously. “You mean to say you’re not angry?”
“Why would I be angry?”
“I’m invading your privacy.”
He acknowledged that with a slight tilt of his head.
The soup began to boil and Cassie removed the pan from the burner, poured some in a bowl and set it on the kitchen table with a spoon.
While Simon had his soup, she made them both cups of strong, hot tea, then sat across from him at the table. She declined his suggestion of soup, since she was too nervous to eat.
“This might surprise you, but I quite like you when you’re sick.”
He set the spoon next to his bowl and studied her warily. “I beg your pardon?”
That must have sounded strange. “You’re more human when you’re vulnerable.” He didn’t respond.
Cassie was gratified to see that he finished the entire bowlful of soup.
“Shall we have our tea in the living room?” she asked, noting that the television was on, the volume low.
Simon nodded. “I’ve watched more television in the past three days than the previous three years.”
“Oh, Jeopardy!’s just starting. That’s my favorite game show,” she said, sitting on the couch. Simon sat beside her, a careful distance away—not too close and not too far.
He picked up the remote and turned up the volume. The thirty minutes passed quickly. She couldn’t resist shouting out answers—“What is the Battle of Gettysburg?” “Who are Sacco and Vanzetti?” “What is silver nitrate?” She was pleased that she was almost always right, although she noticed that Simon didn’t participate at all. He must be feeling very ill.
“I should leave,” she said after Final Jeopardy (“Who was St. Nicholas?”) and started to stand.
Simon reached for her hand. “Stay a while longer, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t…” The sudden surge of tenderness she felt shocked her. What shocked her even more was that his hand continued to hold hers. His touch was light, but sometime during the next thirty minutes he intertwined their fingers. It was hard to concentrate on the rerun of Frasier—a Christmas episode she’d already seen—when her whole body was focused on his hand holding hers. Innocent enough on the surface, his action was highly sensual in its effect. She felt his touch in every part of her, in every sensitized nerve, every cell. She needed all her self-control not to turn into his arms and beg him to kiss her.
“My brother might be at the dinner,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt.
“I’d enjoy meeting him.”
“You would? Angie might be able to come, too.”
“Angie?”
“My best friend. You met her—and rejected her.”
“Ah, yes, I remember her now.”
“I wish you’d given her a chance,” Cassie murmured.
“I couldn’t. She was in love with someone and refused to admit it.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
“It’s my job. That’s the point of such a detailed questionnaire. I explore people’s responses and I read between the lines.” He looked at her sternly, their hands still linked. “You know I can’t discuss this with you.”
“Oh.” Her mouth had gone dry. If Simon could read others so well, she wondered if he was aware of the intense sensation she was experiencing. Did he feel it, too?
“Will you come for dinner?” she asked. This was the concession she’d intended to request. She wasn’t quite sure why. She’d told herself it was so he’d be able to judge the way she handled the third task, which would expedite her introduction to John. But now…
He didn’t answer.
“Please?”
He rubbed his thumb along hers and it was all Cassie could do not to faint. Her eyes drifted shut.
“I’ll be there,” he finally agreed.
“Thank you.”
The argument between Frasier and Niles on the TV seemed to fade into the background. “I should go,” she said.
“Yes,” he said in a whisper. “You should.” He released her and she clenched her fist to keep from grabbing his hand again.
“I’ll see you at three o’clock on Sunday,” she said hoarsely, staggering to her feet.
He nodded.
He didn’t walk her to the door.
Chapter 12
Simon says: The perfect match lights a lasting fire.
Cassie pored over every cookbook she owned. They were all full of wonderful recipes. Even more encouraging, the instructions didn’t seem too difficult. She had her menu set for this all-important dinner: roast turkey with a traditional stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh green beans with butter and sliced almonds, two different salads and three kinds of pie, apple, pumpkin and pecan. Her grocery list was two pages long.
Angie had offered to help with the shopping; she’d also volunteered to set the table. This was by far the most elaborate meal Cassie had ever undertaken.
Her brother, too, seemed eager to help. Luckily, Shawn was in town for a benefit and he’d promised to hand-letter the place cards. He said he’d also do small drawings on each, which were sure to be highly collectible—if any of her neighbors recognized her brother as the famous mural artist. Well, even if they didn’t, they were bound to like the personal touch.
Reading over the stuffing recipe one last time, Cassie rested her elbows on the kitchen counter.
Unfortunately, her mind kept wandering from the page. She hadn’t seen Simon since she’d visited him in his home. He’d fully recovered from his bout with the flu and gone back to work.
Cassie knew that because she’d phoned and chatted briefly with his assistant who’d told her Simon was indeed in the office. But when Ms. Snelling asked if Cassie wished to speak to him, she’d declined and hurriedly got off the phone.
Simon hadn’t called to thank her for the soup, not that she expected him to. He was coming to dinner on Sunday and she almost dreaded seeing him; at the same time, she could hardly wait.
She hardly thought of John—John the engineer, John the perfect man—anymore. Only Simon seemed to inhabit her mind. And her heart?
Something was very wrong.
The doorbell rang and Cassie left her kitchen. Angie breezed into the room as though floating on air. This wasn’t unusual these days. Her friend was in love. Angie seemed like a different person; nothing upset her, nothing annoyed her. In fact, she glowed with happiness. And yet she remained secretive about this new man in her life. Still, Cassie had begun to have her suspicions. In retrospect, the night of her solitary tree-decorating should have been a giveaway.
“You ready?” Angie asked.
“Shawn phoned earlier,” Cassie said and carefully watched her friend’s expression.
Angie revealed nothing.
“Oh, he’s in town?”
“My brother seems to have a fair amount of business in the Pacific Northwest lately,” Cassie said, playing along. “He said he was here for some benefit, but if you ask me, the one who’s benefiting is
my brother.”
Angie turned away and walked into the kitchen. She set down her purse, then removed her coat and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair. “This is your menu for tomorrow?” she said, still avoiding eye contact. She studied the paper on which Cassie had written her menu ideas. “Three different pies seems a bit ambitious, don’t you think?”
“I wanted there to be choices.” It didn’t escape Cassie’s notice how quickly Angie had diverted the subject from Shawn.
“Simon agreed to come, right?”
Switching the topic to Simon was a clever move. “Yes.” Before she could expand or hint further about Shawn, the doorbell chimed again. Cassie opened the door to her brother, who hugged her enthusiastically. His eyes gleamed with a merriment that was due to more than the season, Cassie thought. When he saw Angie his expression sobered. He greeted her politely, even rather distantly.
“This dinner is becoming quite the affair,” Shawn said, handing her the place cards. The artwork—small watercolors, all individual, of Christmas trees and bells and stars—was beautiful.
“Thanks!” Cassie kissed his cheek. “Okay, you two, sit down,” she ordered. She indicated the sofa. “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I arranged for you to be here at the same time.”
Shawn and Angie took opposite sides of the sofa while Cassie stood directly in front of them, her arms crossed. “You aren’t fooling me, you know. I suspected the two of you were seeing each other.”
“We wanted to tell you,” Angie blurted out. “Well, I did, but Shawn felt we should wait.”
“We weren’t sure this was going anywhere,” Shawn explained, glancing at Angie.
“We wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while,” Angie said in a small voice, glancing back at Shawn.
“If you’re upset, blame me,” Shawn said, quick to defend Angie.
“Why wouldn’t you want me to know?” Cassie asked, directing the question to both of them. “I’m happy for you!”
“It just kind of happened.”
“We dated for a while a year ago after we met at your birthday party, and it didn’t work out,” Shawn said.
“For him, maybe, but it worked for me. I fell in love with Shawn.” Angie looked down at her hands, which were neatly folded in her lap.
“Oh, my goodness!” Cassie brought one hand to her mouth. “Simon wouldn’t take you on as a client because you were in love with someone else. That someone was my brother, wasn’t it?”
Angie’s ears turned red as she nodded. “Shawn and I went out last year, like he said, and just when everything seemed to be going well…I didn’t hear from him.”
“I was traveling a lot,” he said. “A relationship’s hard when I’m on the road so much. Besides, I was falling for Angie and it scared me. I’d dated plenty of women but I didn’t feel about them the way I did about Angie—and I panicked.”
“I was distraught when we broke up,” Angie whispered. “I wanted to tell you, but Shawn—”
“You never said a word.” Cassie was embarrassed that she’d been so oblivious. “Before or after you called it quits.”
Angie shrugged apologetically.
“I like my privacy,” Shawn said. “You know that.”
Cassie couldn’t help being a little hurt. “For crying out loud, I’m your sister.”
“I’m sorry.” Shawn did appear regretful. “Neither of us meant to offend you or anything.”
“After we broke it off, I tried to move on,” Angie said. “Which is why I agreed when my mother wanted me to meet the matchmaker.”
“I made an effort to get over Angie, too,” Shawn confessed, smiling at her, “but I couldn’t get her out of my mind.”
“Then we met again just before Thanksgiving.”
“Here,” Angie clarified. They both nodded.
“And I realized how much I’d missed Angie,” he went on, “and how foolish I’d been to let our relationship end.”
“And I realized that Simon was right and despite everything, I was still in love with Shawn.”
They slid closer on the couch and Shawn took Angie’s hand. They stared into each other’s eyes.
Cassie wanted to kick them both for being so foolish, for not understanding what they had the first time around. They deserved a second kick for keeping it a secret from her.
“We’ve been so happy,” Angie told her, “and I was afraid that if we said anything, you’d feel left out.”
“Left out? If I feel left out it’s because you guys—two of the most important people in my life—didn’t let me in on something as big as this!”
“We did plan to tell you,” Angie said.
“And when would that have been?”
“After the big dinner party.”
Cassie laughed. “So that’s why it was so easy to convince you to make an appearance.”
Shawn nodded. “Now that you know, we don’t have to show up, do we? Angie and I have better things to do than attend this crazy dinner party of yours.”
“Shawn,” Angie chastised.
The hopeful expression on his face was enough to make Cassie laugh. “No, you two are excused. Angie, you don’t need to help with the shopping.”
“I’ll come if you want,” Angie said.
She would, too, but Cassie could see that she’d rather be alone with Shawn than spend the day in a crowded grocery store.
“I’ll be fine. Do something productive with your time, though—like shopping for an engagement ring.”
Angie blushed again and Shawn cleared his throat. “As it happens, I have a ring picked out.”
“You do?” Angie asked with tears in her voice.
“I’m not letting you get away from me again,” Shawn said. “There’s still plenty to discuss, but I can’t see—”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he asked.
“Yes, I’ll marry you and, yes, there’s a lot still to be decided. But there’s no obstacle the two of us can’t overcome.”
They left a few minutes later, so in love they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
Cassie had difficulty wiping the grin off her face. Shawn and Angie were perfect together. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before—or noticed what was going on. Angie would probably move away from Seattle once they were married, which was the only disadvantage to an otherwise ideal situation.
All of a sudden it became crucial to talk to Simon. She had his office number and as she suspected he had an answering service.
“Would you please ask Mr. Dodson to return my call? It’s…an emergency.”
She didn’t have to wait long for him to call back. When his name flashed across caller ID, Cassie exhaled a huge sigh of relief.
“Simon?” she said.
“Yes.”
Cassie smiled at his gruff, unfriendly tone. She felt better already.
“There’s been a change in our dinner plans.”
“That’s why you phoned?”
“Yes. My brother and Angie won’t be attending.”
“That’s your emergency?’
“This might not be earth-shattering to you but—”
“Cassie…”
“I knew they were secretly involved, or at least I guessed they were. It’s wonderful for them. They make a fabulous couple. I couldn’t be happier, even if it means I’m going to lose my best friend.”
Her outburst was followed by a short silence. “I don’t quite understand why you called me. And I suggest you think of it as gaining a sister-in-law,” he advised wryly, “not losing a friend.”
“Yes, that’s true, but she’ll leave Seattle and the lab…?. Anyway,” she said in a more cheerful voice, “I wanted to let you know you were right about her being in love.”
“Of course I was right. Did you seriously doubt it?”
“Well, perhaps not.” She paused. “I shouldn’t have called. You must consider me a nuisance.”
“We can agree on that,�
�� he murmured.
“I know you regret taking me on as a client and I apologize for being such a pest.”
“I’ve dealt with worse clients.”
Funny how reassuring Cassie found even that faint encouragement.
He exhaled slowly. “You’re upset. Is it because of your friend and your brother? Anything that upsets the status quo—even a good thing like this—takes time to accept.”
Cassie wasn’t sure why she’d felt such an overwhelming urge to hear his voice. His certainty was comforting, she supposed. He always had an answer, a reason, a solution.
“How can I help?” he asked, his tone almost gentle.
“I…I don’t know.”
“I have an idea,” he said, his voice brightening.
“What?”
“I’ll tell you something else about John.”
“John?”
“The man I’ve matched you with.”
“Oh. Yes.” The man she’d paid thirty thousand dollars to meet. He’d completely slipped her mind.
“Okay,” he said. “Let me think about it.”
“What were you doing?” She felt guilty at the thought of interrupting him. “Before I called.”
“What was I doing?” he repeated. “Why do you ask?”
“If I’m being too much of a bother, I’ll hang up.” She viewed him as someone who operated with purpose. Someone whose day was filled with constant demands. He had too many responsibilities to be interrupted by such mundane matters as her doubts and insecurities.
“I’m watching a college football game.”
“You watch football?” He couldn’t have shocked her more had he said he was on an aircraft headed for the moon. Practically every day Simon surprised her with how…human he was.
“Why would you find that unusual?”
“I didn’t think football would interest you. It’s so…so normal.”
He laughed. “I am normal, Cassie. I’m like every other man.”
“No, you aren’t,” she insisted. “You aren’t like any other man I’ve ever known, and now I’m seeing this whole other side of you and it’s confusing.”
He muttered something under his breath; it sounded as if he’d said he was confused himself, but Cassie couldn’t be sure of that.
The Perfect Christmas Page 10