by Tina Susedik
“What kind of sales?” Cassie asked, following him into the room.
“Plastics.” Hogan hated it when people asked him what he did for a living. As soon as they found out his family owned several plastics companies, attitudes changed. The men turned envious, and women more interested. Hogan thought if he could get to know Cassie better before she found out he was wealthy, she might come to like him for who he was, not what he was worth. Besides, he couldn’t mention his business was being used as a cover for the FBI.
His watch beeped, saving him from answering any more questions. “Wow. It’s midnight already.” He walked quickly through the living room to the front door. She followed. “You’d better get some sleep. I know how early kids get up.”
Before opening the door, he turned and tucked a curling strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night. This, too.” He leaned over and placed a light kiss on her lips. Reluctantly he resisted the urge to put more into the kiss. “I’d like to see you again.” She nodded. “I’ll call.” With the bag of offending shoes in hand, he left.
Cassie leaned against the closed door, whistled between her teeth, and slid to the floor. Her shaking fingers touched her mouth. Surprisingly, the skin hadn’t burned off from his kiss. If a light one could make her feel like this, she couldn’t imagine what would happen if he gave her a lingering one.
She closed her eyes. He was handsome. Pleasant. Liked kids. Considerate. Had a nice, basic job. Probably an average salesman, making an average salary. He was perfect. Just the type of man she wanted, if she was looking, which she wasn’t.
He wouldn’t call anyway. His sigh of relief when his watch beeped said it all. She’d blown it. Trying to figure out just where things went wrong, Cassie walked through the house turning off the lights, an empty feeling rolling in the pit of her stomach. It was probably a good thing, too. He obviously wasn’t telling the truth about coming back to see her. And if there was one thing she hated more than lying, it was a man who lied.
Chapter 5
The birds had barely begun singing when whimpering woke Cassie.
“Huh? What?” She slammed a pillow over her head. The fussing continued. She peered from under the pillow and eyed her clock through one blurry eye. Five-thirty! She hoped Bess was enjoying her peaceful morning sleep, because Cassie was going to make her sister pay dearly for this. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called out, groping in the dark for her robe and slippers.
As soon as her nephew saw her, he gave Cassie a wide, double-toothed grin. A quick glance at the bed assured Cassie her nieces still slept.
“Must be used to you fretting,” she muttered groggily, lifting Billy from the playpen. “Come on, squirt. Sounds like you’re hungry and feels like you’re wet.”
A short time later Cassie sank into her overstuffed couch, resting her feet on a mismatched footstool. Billy, sucking on his bottle, cuddled into the crook of her arm, his eyes growing heavy. Cassie wanted to join him, but her mind was active with thoughts of Hogan Wynnters. She recalled his dimples and the way his eyes sparkled eyes when making a point about the Chicago Bears.
Would he really call her? She doubted it. Cassie knew she wasn’t pretty or witty. Nor did she have a great figure like her sister. Anyway, that’s what her two-year marriage had taught her.
Tony made sure she knew her shortcomings. Why he’d married her was something she’d never understood. Everything seemed to be fine the first year, although in reflection, Cassie knew that wasn’t true. Tony worked long hours at his father’s law firm, so she was often home alone.
As time went on, his barbs about her appearance, the way she dressed, her lack of class became more and more frequent. It was all such a cliché. He pointed his lofty nose down at her profession. Computer programmers were not as good as lawyers. He frowned on her casual lifestyle, not the fast-paced, fancy restaurant, theatre-going ways Tony was used to. His family was high society, and she hated associating money with unearned privileges.
The closest Cassie came to figuring why he’d married her was that he wanted a housekeeper with occasional benefits. While working full-time, Cassie cooked his meals, which he usually missed. She washed and ironed his shirts to perfection and took care of the large Tudor-style home he insisted they buy. Meanwhile, Tony was busy “cultivating new clients.” Cassie found out the hard way he’d been cultivating more than clients.
Cassie snuggled Billy closer to her chest as if to hold her emotions inside. Thinking back, she realized how typical his actions were. Early one evening while she and Tony were sharing a rare meal at home, a stunning, short, and very pregnant young woman showed up at their front door. When she asked to see Tony, Cassie assumed she was one her husband’s clients and showed her into the dining room.
His pale face was all it took to realize her assumption was wrong. Then the woman had flung herself at Tony’s feet and begged him to take care of her and their child. When he picked her up and wrapped his arms around the woman with a tenderness he’d never shown her, Cassie left the room, packed her bags, and never looked back.
During divorce proceedings, her lawyer had advised Cassie to take Tony for everything he had, but she didn’t see the point in being vindictive. She simply wanted out. The only thing Cassie wanted was to know why he had even married her. His answer had simply been, “You were a challenge. I wanted to see if I could break through that ice barrier you carried around. I couldn’t.”
To say she was shocked at his concept of her was like saying a few drops of water flowed down Niagara Falls. Cassie never pictured herself as being reserved or icy. She was somewhat shy. Even though her college tuition was paid for, she’d needed to work to pay for living expenses. That, along with her studies, hadn’t left much time for parties.
When she’d met Tony in her last year of college, he’d swept her off her feet. Maybe she didn’t talk much or play tennis or like parties, but she did love him, or thought she did. In hindsight, the marriage was probably doomed from the start. The things she enjoyed, like hiking, camping, reading, touring old houses, and finding antiques, didn’t fit into his family’s lifestyle.
Icy? She didn’t think so. Somewhere inside, lived a passionate, warm, caring person wanting to crawl out, but Tony’s constant put-downs had successfully undermined her self-confidence. Her friend, Jill, told her he just wasn’t the right man. When the right one came along, he would see her for the woman she was and help her unleash that hidden passion.
Cassie leaned her head back and closed her eyes. No sense in dwelling in the past. She hoped Tony was happy with his well-endowed, well-established, beautiful wife hanging on his arm. She had her own life now and she was happy, truly she was. When loneliness assailed her like a torpedo hitting a ship, she buried it deep inside, keeping company with the hidden passionate person. Let them fight it out.
Finally, the late night, combined with the warmth from her nephew’s body, lured her toward sleep. She grabbed an afghan from the back of the couch, wrapped it around Billy and herself, and drifted off to sleep, thoughts of brown eyes and dimples swimming through her mind.
Giggling angels swooped through the heavens on a speeding bird. The angels patted her face with puffs of clouds, their sweet breaths smelling of . . . cereal.
Cereal? Cassie sat up, nearly spilling Billy to the floor. Two angelic faces with blue eyes stared at her. Two little mouths filled with cereal smiled, while in the background cartoons played. A brightly colored box with a large bird on it lay on its side. Pieces of cereal were scattered across the floor.
“Emily,” a small voice whispered. “She’s wearing the slippers we gave her. She likes the birdie, too.”
“We were hungry, Auntie Cassie,” Emily told her. “It’s Saturday and we get to watch cartoons. Mommy said so.”
“Yeah, ‘toons,” Jazmine agr
eed. “I’m hungry, Auntie Cassie.”
Cassie noted her oversized, bright yellow bird slippers and then at the clock on the wall. “Oh, my. It’s eight o’clock. Why didn’t you girls wake me?”
She lay the still-sleeping Billy on the couch and set chairs against the side. “Let’s go in the kitchen and start making my delicious cinnamon rolls.”
“With frosting?” Emily asked. “Mommy always makes them with frosting.”
Cassie swung Jazmine into her arms and took Emily by the hand. “Of course with frosting. Lots and lots of frosting. Is there any other way?” A warm feeling spread through her as the girls giggled their agreement.
Billy sat in his high chair, banging a spoon on the tray, gumming a roll, frosting stretching from ear to ear. Her nieces were trying to see how far they could stretch their tongues to lick the frosting smeared across their lips. Cassie leaned back in her chair and patted her full stomach. She never imagined eating one roll the size of a saucer, let alone three. This was how she remembered Saturday mornings when her father was alive. She tried not to think about what she was missing by not having a family of her own. Brown eyes and dimples flashed through her mind. Crazy! Stop it. He won’t be back, so stop dreaming about him.
Cassie cinched the tie of her tattered chenille robe around her waist. When new, it had been the color of a rich claret wine, but now it was a washed-out pink. The robe was the most comfortable thing she owned. Her mother kept buying her new, fancy ones to wear ‘For when the right man comes to stay.’ Her mother didn’t understand or refused to believe how unlikely that was.
“C’mon, girls, let’s clean up the mess and get dressed.” She stood, stretched her arms in the air, and tightened her ponytail with an old green knee sock. Not the classiest thing to use, and she had no idea how it ended up in the pocket of her tattered robe. It was the quickest thing she could find to get her hair off her face while baking the rolls. Besides, who would see it anyway.
Taking Billy from his chair, Cassie turned to her nieces. “What should we do today, guys?”
“The zoo!” Jazmine yelled. “I wanna go to the zoo. I wanna see the monkeys.”
Dark clouds rolled and swarmed across the sky, reminding her of the way her stomach felt when Hogan kissed her. “I don’t know, Jazmine. I think it’s going to rain. We can’t go.”
“I wanna go to the zoo. I wanna see the monkeys,” Jazmine whined as she jumped up and down and then threw herself on the floor.
Cassie set Billy on the floor and picked up her niece, who suddenly decided to be a wet noodle, flopping her upper body over Cassie’s arm. How did mothers do this? “C’mon, sweetie. I just want to show you it’s starting to rain. See?” Cassie carried Jazmine to the kitchen window and showed her the drops of rain splattering against the glass. “The mommy and daddy monkeys will have their babies in their homes keeping them warm and dry. We won’t be able to see anything.”
“If we can’t go to the zoo, what are we gonna do?” Emily asked, her voice beginning to sound like her younger sister’s.
Cassie frowned. What did one do with three little kids on a rainy Saturday? Three little kids who weren’t in their own home with their own toys? Why hadn’t she thought to get a key from Bess? Taking them home would solve the problem.
She remembered hiding out with her sister in their grandmother’s attic, listening to the rain patter on the roof as they dug through dusty boxes stored through the years. Old, musty furniture became thrones and pirate ships. Clothes and jewelry turned them into queens and princesses, or pirates hunting treasure. It was a wonderful way to spend time. Between her grandmother’s things, what her mother had stored at her house, and what the previous owners had left behind, Cassie knew her attic was filled with riches ripe for imaginative little girls.
“First we’re going to get dressed. Then, we’re going on a treasure hunt.”
Cassie flung her exhausted body on the couch and propped her feet on the coffee table. The foray into the attic had been as much fun as she recalled, but she didn’t remember it being this tiring. She took a sip of tea. Lunch was over and the kids were down for naps.
How on earth do mothers do it? Cassie wondered for the millionth time. She took another swallow of the soothing tea and glanced at her watch. Only seven more hours until she could put them back to bed. The little buggers would be up soon. Then what?
She glanced at a box sitting in the corner of the room. While the girls dug through clothes, Cassie found an unopened, unfamiliar cardboard box hidden under the sloping attic ceiling. Wondering what of her grandmother’s treasures might be hidden in it, she hauled it and a box of games for the girls downstairs.
Cassie knelt next to the box and peeled back the clear tape keeping the lid closed. She picked up the item on the top, carefully unwrapping the paper.
“Huh,” she muttered, holding up a statue of Mary holding baby Jesus. “I don’t remember Grandma having this.”
As each item was revealed, Cassie became more confused. As a child, she’d spent a lot of time at her grandmother’s house, but she didn’t recall any of the art in the box. Some of the trim seemed to be gold. Of course, it was probably fake. Next time she saw her mother, she’d have to ask her about them. After placing them in her grandmother’s china cabinet where curious children couldn’t reach, she sat on the couch and closed her eyes.
A vision swam across her mind. It was a Saturday night, but for once she wasn’t alone. A board game sat on the coffee table. Her partner and she were battling for countries to take over the world. It was a game she’d hated as a kid because it was so competitive, and she usually lost to Bess. This time was different. The game was being played as a version of strip poker, and she was winning. Cassie grinned. Her dream man was down to his boxers.
Dark curly hair covered his broad chest and trailed down his flat stomach, coming to a vee at the waistband. Cassie imagined her legs entwined with his, his hair rubbing sensuously over her smooth skin, his chest creating friction as her bare nipples rubbed over him.
Chocolate-brown eyes, lids half-closed in passion, gazed at her with promise. Oh, lord, how she loved chocolate. Just the thought of his eyes made her hungry for it. Maybe melted, spread over his taut stomach, slowly licking off each drop as her mouth moved lower and lower. Then it was her turn. He drizzled warm chocolate over her breasts around her nipples then down the center of her stomach. Her body pulsed with desire . . .
Cassie struggled to open her eyes. Her breath came in short bursts. A light sheen of perspiration covered her upper lip. She fanned her face with her hand and took deep breaths to slow her heart.
“Get a grip, girl,” she muttered, wiping a hand over her face. No way would this would ever happen, not after the way Hogan left last night. Idiot. All he did was kiss her. It wasn’t even a real kiss, just a swipe of his lips against hers. She’d simply been without a man for too long. The first one that came along and sent out the least little reminders of sex, and she was off having wild, erotic daydreams.
Cassie mentally shook herself. “Back to the matter at hand, old girl. The kids. Think of the kids. Quit thinking about Hogan and wondering if his real body could measure up to the fantasy one.”
She smacked herself in the forehead with the palm of her hand. “Stop thinking about him. He’s out of your life, never to return on a white horse, saving you from certain weekend boredom. The kids’ll be up soon and you haven’t solved the problem of what to do with them, yet.”
Suddenly another thought came to her. Movies. They could watch movies. Cassie didn’t approve of people using the television as a babysitter, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She opened the doors of the television stand. Standing side-by-side were Cinderella, Snow White, and Pinocchio, and other movies she’d purchased with her future children in mind.
Fortified with a cup of tea
and the movies, Cassie was ready to take on three young kids and a rainy day.
“I’m hungry,” Jazmine whined, kicking at her sister on the floor.
“Jazmine, the movie isn’t over yet,” Cassie said.
The three-year-old flopped back on the floor and kicked her feet.
“She gets crabby when she’s hungry.” Emily’s voice sound too much like an adult. “I’m hungry, too. I think we should have supper.”
“Supper? But I just fed you guys a snack a little while ago.” Cassie peeked at her watch and was surprised to see it was nearly five-thirty. Now what? She could order a pizza, but didn’t think the kids could wait. Then she eyed the car seats sitting by the front door. Three kids at a restaurant? By herself? Maybe a fast food one catering to children.
“Okay, guys. How would you like to go out for supper?”
“Fries and cookies,” the girls shouted together.
Cassie would get them anything they wanted if it killed time until bed. “That’s fine with me, but you have to promise to behave and listen to me, or we won’t go.”
“We promise, we promise,” they yelled, jumping up and down like a couple of pogo sticks.
“Grab your coats and stay in the house while I take care of the car seats,” she ordered, putting Billy in his playpen. “I’ll be right back.”
Ten minutes later, she jammed the keys into the ignition. “And we’re off!” she yelled, happy to get three kids safely strapped in their seats. For the umpteenth time, Hogan’s face popped into her head. He probably had a hot date for tonight. Cassie sighed as she backed out of the driveway. At times life really sucked.