“It’s beautiful, Peter, exquisite and feminine,” she remarked as she eyed the purple stone in the size and shape of a dime, encircled by cut diamonds and suspended on an eighteen-inch gold chain. “Surely that cost much more than the bracelet did.”
“Not much, and I covered the difference as a friendship gift; that way, it won’t seem as if it’s from Dad. Let’s see how it fits and if you like it. If not, don’t hesitate to tell me.”
“Of course I like it; it’s one of the most beautiful pieces I’ve seen.”
She turned around and lifted her long hair as Peter fastened the catch, all too aware of his fingers brushing against her flesh. When she faced him, he used his forefinger to tug her scoopnecked T-shirt down a smidgen into a V to make the setting visible to his inspection. He held her shirt in place using the soft and warm pad of his fingertip to keep from sticking her with his well-manicured nail. She looked down, but couldn’t get a good view of it, and his contact felt strange. “I need to use the bathroom mirror; I’ll be back in a minute.”
She went into the half-bath nearby, flipped on the light switch, held down her shirt as he had done, and stared at the necklace.
Peter came to laze against the doorjamb. “Looks perfect on you. That vivid shade of purple suits your coloring. What do you think? I’ll take it off your hands and pay you for it if you don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it, Peter, I absolutely love it. Thanks,” she said, and gave him a quick and impulsive hug of gratitude. Suddenly, the bathroom felt awfully small with him blocking—almost filling—its doorway. She was all too aware of his presence, scent, and allure.
Peter sensed her uneasiness, and delighted in his effect on her. Yet, he felt it was unwise to take advantage of her weakness for him. Perhaps later, he told himself, savoring the cat-andmouse game too much to terminate it too soon. He straightened and turned to head back into the kitchen as he said, “I was also coming over to bring you good news; actually, fantastic news: the accident investigation has been closed, permanently, and Dad’s life-insurance claim is being processed as we speak.” At the counter, he retrieved his drink. “Why don’t we go out and celebrate? We could throw on some casual clothes and ride over to the Crab Trap to grab a bite eat.”
“That sounds like a great idea.” Get him out of this private location fast! “Why don’t we have our drinks while we’re changing clothes? If we hurry, we won’t have to stand in line forever. You know how crowded it can get on a Friday night.”
He gave a lock of her hair a gentle tug and grinned. “Smart woman. I’ll meet you at your back door in…say twenty minutes?”
The Crab Trap on the next island had a rustic and casual ambiance. Its facade, with a long fenced-in porch, reminded Cass of the Old West, except for the white rowboat sitting atop its roof. A covered side porch with rough-hewn posts and exposed ceiling beams and with high-backed wooden benches and matching tables allowed for pleasant outdoor dining. Inside, the decor featured anything to do with water. It was a favorite eating spot for tourists, but the height of the season hadn’t gotten into full swing yet. The restaurant was famous for its variety and generous portions of fresh seafood prepared in any way the customer requested.
Peter grinned and chuckled before he suggested in a playful tone, “Let’s get down and dirty and order the messiest dishes they have. We can pig out for a change and have another margarita to wash it all down. How’s that for a celebratory diversion?”
“Perfect. You order, and I’ll prepare my tummy for the barrage.”
They were seated near the back on the left side, given menus, and their drink order was taken. It was only a few minutes before the waitress returned with the pale-green drinks in saltlipped glasses and garnished with limes. Peter told her their dinner selections, and she left to fill their orders.
While they sipped the tangy beverages and waited for their meals to arrive, Peter said, “We should hitch a ride on one of our company shrimp boats soon so you can see that work in action. They catch all sorts of things besides shrimp: shells, starfish, sand dollars, crabs, fish, and sometimes even a small shark. We sell those items to souvenir shops and artists who make crafts out of them. Our captains take special care to protect the dolphins and Right Whales that frequent these waters. Another thing you may enjoy and find enlightening is a company tour, watching how seafood is processed, packaged, and shipped to our customers.”
“I would like that very much, Peter, thanks.”
“Good, we’ll make a date to do them real soon. I’ll also give you a tour of the electronics firm, but I’ll warn you now, it’s a little boring. Still, it might be wise for you to learn a few things about our companies. I’ll request a report on each one of them for you to study. Afterward, we can discuss them, and I’ll go over the annual reports with you at the end of the year. Currently, they’re all making money for us. Smooth Rider is the only one I’m dumping. We just don’t have the cart supply contracts the others do; their names are bigger and they’ve been in business longer, and they put out fine products. I’m afraid if I hold on to it too long, it’ll lose its sale value and wind up in the red. I think Dad kept it more for sentimental reasons than because it was profitable. Do you have any objections to unloading it?”
“No, none, but thanks for asking. I would like to know something about our companies because I don’t want to appear ignorant if somebody asks me about them. But I think you’re doing a fine job operating them, and I’m certainly not knowledgeable enough to give any opinions about them.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence and faith in me, and we’ll have to get you knowledgeable. You’re welcome to tag along with me on any of my future business trips if you want to tour the other companies.”
After the waitress brought their she crab soups, Cass said, “That will be good to do in late summer or early fall; first, I think we should give the employees time to settle down following all the changes. We don’t want them to think we’re doing an inspection and evaluation for sale purposes.”
Peter nodded and said, “You’re right, and I didn’t think of that angle. As I said, Cass, you’re an intelligent and kindhearted person.”
She smiled her appreciation and sipped soup to prevent having to respond. The truth was, she didn’t want to travel alone with him at this unpredictable time when he was getting too close to her too fast. But, the main reason she didn’t want to go gallivanting with Peter in the near future was she needed to be at home to make a decision about continuing her relationship with Jason.
Peter looked at her and said, “I almost forgot to tell you; I invited Pat and Dana Marlowe to have dinner with us tomorrow night at the St. Simons Island Club. Pat is the manager of our electronics firm. I thought it would give you a chance to meet people, get to know one of our staff members, and give you practice socializing without Dad. They just had their first child, a son, about six weeks ago, and this will be the first time Dana’s gotten out of the house since the baby was born. I sent them flowers and a gift certificate and signed both of our names to the cards; so if they thank you for them, that’s what they’re talking about.”
“That was very kind and thoughtful of you, Peter, and I would be delighted to go along.”
“I picked the Island Club over the Cloister or one of the other clubs because it’s less formal and I figured they would feel more comfortable in that setting.” He glanced beyond her and grinned. “Well, here it comes, so get ready for the onslaught.”
They were served battered fries, hush puppies, cole slaw, and corn on the cob, along with a combination of boiled and fried shrimp, deviled crab, and a large platter of crab legs. The waitress put down an ample supply of napkins and ice water.
The moment she left their table after smiling and telling them to enjoy their food, Cass took a deep breath, laughed, and said, “Wow! If we consume all of this, we will be puffed out like fat pigs.”
“For one night, we can forget about fat content and salt and cholesterol levels, right?”
>
“Why not? We deserve to splurge on occasion.”
“That’s my Cass talking. Dig in. Oink, oink,” he jested.
Amidst laughter, she peeled boiled shrimp and tossed the shells into the hole in the table where a trash can caught them. After eating for a few minutes, she murmured, “I love these battered fries, and the hush puppies are delicious; everything is delicious.”
“To steal a quote: ‘It doesn’t get much better than this’, right?”
“Right.” As she tried to nibble daintily on the ear of corn, its juices dribbled down her chin. Before she could put down the cob and grab a napkin, Peter rose slightly in his chair, leaned over, and dabbed it for her.
He grinned. “Messy like I warned, but well worth it.”
“Thanks. I don’t have to look like a pig because I’m eating like one.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know if anything dares to mar that lovely and clean face. You do the same for me.”
Cass scooped out several forkfuls of deviled crab, holding each in her mouth for a few moments to relish their flavor before swallowing them. She sipped alternately from the ice water and the margarita, resolved not to allow the second drink to go to her head.
They remained silent and busy for a while until Cass remarked, “I would love to have these batter and cole slaw receipes. I wonder how much they would charge me for them.”
“They’re probably closely guarded secrets and no amount of money would bribe them away from their cooks and owners. Contrary to popular belief, Cass, everything does not have a price.”
“Such as?” she probed before biting into a fried shrimp.
“Let’s see…” he murmured.
Cass was amused by the comical expression he put on his handsome face as he reasoned on her query and cracked crab legs. She felt relaxed with him this evening, was having fun, a lot of fun.
He finally replied, “A good man’s honor, his reputation, his soul, his wife and kids, and things like that.”
“Are you a good man, Peter?” she teased.
“I hope so; I try to be, despite having a naughty reputation. People who don’t know me, really know me, judge me by what they think is true or from their own prejudices. Tell me the truth, Cass, do I really give off a terrible and one-sided impression?”
Whoa, boy, don’t put me on that hot seat! Yet, she answered, “Not to me. In fact, I find you to be a very complex and multi-faceted person with a lot of excellent traits and qualities. However…”
“Whoops, here it comes,” he jested when she paused.
“However, you have a tendency to conceal or play them down. It’s as if you think showing them will make you appear weak.”
He pretended to consider her words, and came up with what he was certain was a clever and touching reply. “You’re right. A man is reared and trained to control and hide his emotions, to be strong at all times, to be the shoulder to lean on, not need to lean on one himself. I’ll have to work on being more caring and considerate.”
“You are caring and considerate. What you did for the Marlowes and for me prove that to be true. You’re more open and relaxed around friends, but seem to be on guard and wary around others.”
“So, I’m suspicious by nature and habit, huh?”
“Considering who you are, I suppose that’s necessary.”
“So, how does one find and walk that middle ground?”
“I don’t know, Peter; I’m still trying to locate it myself.”
“Then, perhaps we’ll find it together. You want more crab legs?”
“No, thanks, I’m stuffed. You can order more; we have time.”
At home, Peter walked Cass to the door, kissed her cheek, and said good night. “I’ll call you in the morning to see what’s a good time to look at those things you mentioned. And don’t forget, dinner with the Marlowes at six-thirty.”
“I’ll be ready. You can come over any time after nine in the morning.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then. Good night, Cass; I had a wonderful time.”
“Me, too. Good night.”
She locked the door, set the alarm system, turned off the lights, and went upstairs. Though it was only a little past ten o’clock, she got into a nightgown and climbed into bed. She pressed a remote control button and turned on the television to lull her to sleep. She had a long and busy day tomorrow, good impressions to make.
* * *
Jason sat in his BMW on Sea Island Drive with Cass’s house in view but not his car from her windows if she looked outside. It was cloaked by the dark shadows created by huge live oaks whose giant limbs almost canopied the street in certain spots, including the one he had chosen to use.
Earlier, he had been driving down Ocean Boulevard while taking a colleague home whose disabled vehicle was towed from their joint parking lot when he sighted Cass and Peter getting out of his Porsche Carrera at the Crab Trap. After dropping off his friend in the north beach area of the large island, he had—like a lovesick fool—waited in the parking lot of a shopping strip on Fredericka Road, knowing they had to pass by it to reach the Sea Island Causeway.
It had been unmerciful hours before they did so, just before he called a halt to his impulsive vigil, thinking they might have taken the long route or gone elsewhere after supper. As he sat there, his rebellious mind had envisioned them huddled over a wooden table, eating, laughing, chatting, and having a good time, while he was miserable, jealous, and lonely. After they passed, he had trailed them at a safe distance and taken this observation position. He had watched the lights go out downstairs and go on upstairs not long after Peter pulled into his driveway.
Now, Cass’s bedroom light was out, and he couldn’t help but wonder if—hope and pray—she was alone there. He had vowed to give her the time and space she said she needed; but could he keep that promise when Peter was so close to her every day and night? Could he when he knew Peter was so evil, so lecherous, so deceitful?
Chapter Eighteen
Jason rebuked himself for stooping to such deceitful measures. He loved Cass and must have faith in her. If he went to her tonight, he not only would be breaking his promise to give her space but would be implying distrust of her. That action would be detrimental to their future relationship. Go home and get to bed, he told himself and obeyed that difficult order after staring at her bedroom window for a minute.
Saturday morning, Peter walked to Cass’s house to go through his father’s things. It didn’t take him long to make his decisions and, with her help, to box up those items and carry them to his garage apartment. After thanking her and reminding her of their plans for that evening, he left to play golf.
Cass spent the rest of her morning and most of the afternoon folding and packing the remainder of Tom’s belongings. Soon, she would make this house all hers by changing the carpets, drapes, and many of its furnishings. In particular, she wanted Tom’s lingering presence to be removed from the den, gym, his office, and the kitchen. Since he had rarely used the living, dining, and guest rooms, there was no need to redo them. But it would be time-consuming and expensive to tackle that project if she decided to relocate elsewhere on the island or on the next one.
At seven o’clock, Cassandra and Peter Grantham and the Marlowes entered the dining room of the St. Simons Island Club which featured a low-country setting and tranquil atmosphere. They were seated at a square table beside a partition which had lush plants decorating the waist-high barrier and balloon valances at its top. Beyond it was a row of tall paned windows that provided a lovely view of the club’s magnificent grounds, complete with a spectacular covered bridge on the entry drive, countless pines, sprawling live oaks, and a well-manicured golf course. The armed wooden chairs were beautifully carved and had soft, thick cushions for comfort. At the far end of the room was a large fireplace. The men were attired in suits and the women, in Sunday dresses.
As the room filled with other guests and as they ate their appetizers—Escargot Bourguignoe for Peter, assort
ed fruits for Cass and Dana, and smoked trout for Pat—they talked about the couple’s six-week-old son.
Dana was obviously delighted to be out of the house for the first time since Steven’s birth. Even so, the first-time mother glanced at her watch numerous times as if checking to see what her baby was doing at that minute.
As their soup was being served, Cass looked at pictures of Steven. That fierce yearning for a child of her own engulfed her again. What good, Cass fretted, was a lot of money if one was miserable and denied such a joy?
Following their Caesar salads and continued genial conversation, their entrees arrived: sauteed Atlantic swordfish steak for everyone except Dana, who chose the grilled breast of duck.
During the meal, Pat told Cass details about the electronics firm and offered to give her a guided tour any time she wanted to see it. They talked about local and national news, and about their families and backgrounds. Peter was praised for his work at the company, but Tom was mentioned rarely for which Cass was grateful. Even so, every fifteen minutes or so, the topic returned to Steven and children.
On the sly, Peter watched Cass’s reactions to that particular subject. He applauded himself for his successful ruse tonight, as it was evident Cass was gnawing at the bit to have a child, for which she would need a husband. He was elated by the many chances he was given to flatter her, to make her smile, to keep her relaxed, especially with a certain person witnessing their fun and rapport.
As Cass was returning to their table after going to the ladies’ room with Dana, Cass noticed Jason dining in the far corner near the enormous fireplace with an older couple and who she assumed was their adult son. No doubt Jason had sighted her and might be wondering what she was doing out on the town. She was glad she had been sitting with her back to him and hadn’t known he was present, or she couldn’t have enjoyed herself as she had. Now that she knew Jason was there, she was relieved the pleasant meal was over and they were preparing to depart. She made certain she didn’t even glance in his direction as they made their way from the room, with Peter’s arm on her waist.
Love With A Stranger Page 29