by Stacia Wolf
After the whirlwind that resembled her mother flew out the door, Cassie sighed and popped another strawberry into her mouth. She should have known. Sometimes she felt like a victim of peoples’ needs. Ken's need to be a political success. Her mother's need to see her happy.
Mike's need for his stupid zoning change.
Her own need to be trusted and loved for who she truly is.
The phone rang, and she checked the caller ID. Cal.
"Hey, sis, got another client for you. Can you come in today? Remember, casual dress is better for my clients."
Cass looked down at her flame boxers and black tank top. Probably too casual. But the prospect of leaving her cave sounded appealing. She ignored the fact she'd be following her mother's advice. Pure coincidence.
"How about in an hour? No, make it an hour and a half. I need to shower.” Spying a container of orange mints, she popped one into her mouth. Amazing how her appetite returned.
"Yeah, good idea.” Cal chuckled. “Wouldn't want you to stink out the place."
"Ha ha.” But her face twisted into her first smile in a week. “Just make sure that this time I'm not held at gunpoint, okay?"
"You've got it. See you."
Minutes later, Cassie lifted her face up into the hot shower spray, letting it warm her. Darn it, her mother was right. Getting on with life would be her only way to survive this. She squirted some soap into her hand and smoothed it over herself, letting the citrus smell invigorate her.
In the living room, the dogs started barking insistently. For a moment, she debated ignoring them, then the doorbell pealed. Her mom, perhaps? Back to finish her lecture, or maybe make sure she'd taken her advice?
She buried her face in the hot water again, not wanting to deal with her life right now. But the doorbell rang again, and the dogs became even more enraged. With a sigh, she stepped out and grabbed her towel. Wrapping it around her, she dripped her way to the front door.
"Hush, you guys."
She peeked out the window, and her stomach dropped. Mike's mom stood there, looking almost lost. Cassie shook her head to clear it, then looked again. No, not an illusion. Jerking away, she debated jumping back into the shower, but knew that Jessie would have heard her silencing the dogs. With a sigh, she cracked open the door.
"Hi.” She shoved a dripping lock of hair out of her face. How awkward, to be practically naked in front of your ex-boyfriend's mother. “I was in the shower, so right now's not a good time."
"Please, Cassie. This will only take a few minutes. I wanted to make my peace with you.” Her eyes, that same golden brown as Mike's, pleaded with her. “Then I'm going to apologize to your parents."
Her vulnerability sucked all the fight out of Cassie, and amid the dogs’ yipping, she opened the door wide, then shut it firmly after Jessie entered. “Give me a minute. I'll be right back. And don't pet the brown dog.” With a firm ‘quiet’ to the dogs, who for once listened, Cassie headed into her bedroom and grabbed her bathrobe. Slipping it on, she tried to still her thumping heart and swirling thoughts.
What did it mean, Jessie showing up here? Had Mike sent her?
Rubbing her hair with the damp towel, Cassie wished she could take time to put some make-up on or at least comb out her hair. Her desire to do so rankled her, because it showed a lack of confidence. That wouldn't do for Jessie to see that. Mike's mom had never liked her, and despite her apparent need to set things right, Cassie needed to remember that.
Re-entering the living room, she found Jessie still hovering by the door.
"What is it you want?” She didn't bothering hiding her lack of friendliness.
Jessie obviously recognized it as well. “I don't blame you for not being happy to see me. I owe you an apology. No, I owe you more than that, because you always treated me nicely, despite the fact I didn't return the favor. But all I have to offer you right now is to say I'm sorry. I judged you based on my feelings for your mother, and that wasn't right or fair.” She spread her arms wide. “I'm sorry."
Strangely, Cassie felt the hardness in her melt away. Jessie's sincerity touched her. “Thanks. I know how hard this must have been for you.” Impulsively, she reached out and gave Jessie a hug. Conscious of her wet hair, she pulled back, and caught Jessie's startled look.
"Thanks,” she said, her voice warm. “I didn't expect that. Of course, I must say you've always surprised me. Usually in a good way, but I was too stubborn to see that."
"That's sweet of you to say.” Cassie motioned to the couch. Maybe a longer conversation would be good. She ignored the fleeting thought that hearing about Mike might make some of the ache go away.
But Jessie shook her head, although her face glowed with a rare smile. “Funny thing is I'd love to, but I need to get this done. Talking to your mom—this is going to be a rough one. I feel like I robbed her of thirty years of her life, simply because I couldn't trust my own husband. How can someone forgive that?” Tears glimmered in her eyes, and Cassie squeezed her arm in comfort.
"I think you'll find that my mom has a huge heart. It'll be fine."
Jessie nodded. “I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse, but I'm glad you and I are okay.” She smiled again, then turned to go. Pausing at the door, Jessie glanced back.
"Oh, and Cassie? Concerning my son, trust comes hard to him as well. He told me what happened, and I understand why you did what you did. In the same circumstances, and knowing my son's overprotective streak, I probably would have done the same thing. Give him some time, and understand that he learned some of that behavior at his mother's knee. Hard to overcome.” With that, she slipped out the door, and Cassie sank into her pillowed sofa, letting out a confused breath.
What a morning. Had Jessie actually encouraged her relationship with Mike? And her advice: how could she give him time, and still heal herself? Could she live with this raw pain and survive each day without him?
No, she couldn't. That door had slammed in her face. She needed to accept it and move on.
* * * *
"Kendra, replace the poster outside the door, will you? This one lists the new bands we added.” Mike handed her a rolled-up poster depicting the fund-raiser they were throwing for a local cancer unit. He hoped the dance on Labor Day weekend, only a week away, would help pay for some new diagnostic equipment.
Yet he didn't count time as ‘one week from the dance’ or ‘one month of summer left.’ No, he counted it as ‘six weeks and three days’ since he'd last seen Cassie.
And each day seemed like a year.
His life was totally Delistraty free. No Cassie, no Lucia or Jake. No Cal, either. He'd received an invitation to Lucia and Jake's wedding, scheduled for next Saturday, but he planned on sending a gift while passing up on the wedding itself. They'd understand. They'd probably only sent it as a courtesy. Considering how things stood with him and the twins, they wouldn't expect him to show up.
The rest of his family would be going. Even his mother, who'd been honestly touched when she'd received the invite. Go figure.
But he wouldn't be there. Seeing Cass would be like ripping a bandage off an unhealed wound. Too painful to contemplate.
Damn, he missed her. His brief affair with her had been more incredible than he could have imagined. She'd been so eager for him, so excited about being with him. Hard to imagine that she'd broken away from him so quickly. But he'd witnessed it with his own eyes. She'd turned and walked away.
"Done.” Kendra grabbed another poster from the pile. “Jerry next door said he'd put one up, too."
The posh restaurant would be a great place for a poster. “Thanks, Kendra."
"No prob.” She didn't send one of her flirtatious smiles at him. She'd realized that Mike didn't return her interest, and she'd moved on with a nice guy she'd met at college. Steve something-or-other, who spent a lot of time at the bar.
Kendra hovered, and Mike glanced up, his brows lifted in inquiry.
"I saw her."
He didn't have to ask who. Her tone
of voice told him.
"Oh?” Not too much interest, he reminded himself. He was over her. Yes, completely, totally over her.
Yet he still wanted to be under her in the worst way.
"Yeah, Steve's been volunteering at Mr. Prescott's clinic. So I went down there with him.” Steve was starting his fourth year of law school and Kendra her second.
"She looks sad, Mike. And she didn't ask about you."
Ouch. That stung. He wanted her to be dying to find out how he was. “No reason she should."
Kendra rolled her eyes. “You know, you're an idiot. She deliberately didn't ask. If you'd meant nothing more than a casual fling, she'd have said something. She's obviously pining over you, and you're pining over her. Why don't you try to work things out?"
I need trust, and you give me nothing but suspicions. She'd been right. He hadn't trusted her. He hadn't believed in their love enough to see it through. And she hadn't loved him enough to be honest.
"It wouldn't work, Kendra, so drop it, okay?"
"You know, besides being an idiot, you're also a poor judge of character. Steve says Cassie's loyal to the core. He says she's like a bulldog for her clients.” She pulled a video tape out of her apron pocket and set it down in front of him. “Here. I taped this last night. You should watch it. Maybe then, you'll quit acting like a jerk.” She hesitated, then glared at him with renewed force. “My dad told me some stuff about your marriage. Sounds to me like you never recovered.” With that, she spun on her heel and stomped away.
Mike snorted. “You sound like Cal now. That's utter crap.” But he was talking to thin air. He'd been over his marriage for a long time. No way did he confuse Cassie with Sharon.
Even as he thought it, he knew that he had indeed felt some deja vu when she'd lied to him. Just like his ex had about her lover before he'd found out.
He looked at the tape, picking it up to read the label. ‘News broadcast’ and last night's date was all it said. He stared at it for another minute, then heaved a sigh and headed to his office, where he had a VCR.
Popping it in, he sat back on the couch and pushed the play button on the remote. A scrolling text bar at the bottom stated that Stan Richter had pled guilty. He saw Irina Richter, holding her son, looking gravely into the camera. She started speaking, and he turned up the volume.
"Yes, I'm glad it's over. It was very frightening thing, and I have been afraid ever since. Now I no longer have to fear. Six years is a long time."
"Mrs. Richter, is it true that he held you at gunpoint, and your attorney, Cassandra Delistraty, rescued you?"
Irina paused, then a huge smile broke out. “Yes, it is true. I did not know that the...the thing that stops the gun from shooting was on, but she did, and she flipped him. I heard him thump, and I screamed, then turned around and she had him twisted on the ground. It was most exciting.” She laughed. “My lawyer is wonderful. She risked herself to save me and my son. She is a loyal friend and has helped me through this, every step of the way.” She kissed her son's head. “It is good, is it not, to have someone you can trust so completely?"
The camera cut from Irina to the male reporter. “Ms. Delistraty couldn't be reached for comment. Granddaughter of retired State Supreme Court Judge Stuart Delistraty, she now works at a free clinic with her brother, Attorney Cal Prescott."
The female anchor smiled. “It's an amazing story. And how different to hear someone say they trust their lawyer."
The tape ended, and Mike turned the VCR off. Sinking into the couch, he stared at the fuzzy screen. Cassie was now considered a hero, and for that exact same act, he'd walked away from her. Had Cal been right, that he'd pushed her into a corner with his attitude?
Okay, he'd admit it, at least to himself. He'd felt vulnerable after telling her he loved her. Had he started waiting for the axe to fall? Had he expected history to repeat itself, so he'd jumped to conclusions?
Perhaps. But still, she'd lied to him. Despite her reasoning, it all boiled down to the fact she'd chosen to lie.
Cassie's loyal to the core. Yes, he knew that. He'd seen it from the time she'd been a young child. Even when she'd been pulling crazy, off-beat stunts, she'd always had good reasons: loyalty to a family member, a friend, her school or a just cause. He'd admired her for that, even when he'd pulled her out of more scrapes than a cat in a dog pen.
So when did his respect turn to distrust?
When his heart had become entangled. Damn, was Kendra right? Was Cal right? Had he become so distrustful that he'd painted Cassie with the same brush as Sharon? As a kid, although he'd always suspected she'd find trouble no matter what, he'd never worried about her motives. Could he be that trusting again?
If it meant having Cassie back in his life—hell, yes.
His eyes strayed to the phone. Maybe he should call her. They could talk, perhaps figure out what'd gone wrong between them.
Or maybe he could act like a man and go find her, take her into his arms and tell her that no matter what, he wanted to be with her. And that he'd trust her, no matter what.
Inspiration hit him.
Or he could show her he could play, just like a Delistraty.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Twelve
Sitting on her front steps, Cassie eyed her watch impatiently. That limo her mother insisted she use was late. She plucked a stray dog hair off her antique lace, one-shouldered maid-of-honor gown. The bright sunlight made the deep gold color dance, but she didn't feel like being entertained. She'd had to get up way too early to meet her mother's ‘you-need-to-be-three-hours-early-for-photos’ schedule, and frankly, she needed her sleep. Now, to be standing there, waiting for a lift to the lush gardens her parents were to be married in, rankled. She could have driven her own car, but no! Her mom had to control her one more time. How Lucia-like.
Her mom swore it was because of the media attention Cassie'd garnered since Irina's interview on national television last week. Cassie didn't want to discuss overpowering Stan Richter with anyone, because it still hurt too much to remember Mike's anger. But her reluctance to talk didn't faze the reporters. They followed her around almost daily, tossing questions at her.
Wanting her wedding to remain private, Lucia felt that a trained driver could lose a determined reporter better than Cassie could.
If only he showed up.
Finally, a burgundy limo turned the corner and pulled up in front of her. A dark-haired suit-clad man, wearing black sunglasses and a goatee, leapt out of the car and silently opened the back door for her. Cassie's pulse jumped. He reminded her so much of Mike.
Giving herself a mental shake, she slipped by him and into the dark recesses of the limo. Get over it, Cass. She needed to quit seeing him in other men. It had been over seven weeks since she'd last seen Mike, and he'd obviously made a clean break. She needed to do the same.
Sinking into the plush fabric, she dug into her ridiculously tiny purse and retrieved an orange mint. Biting into it, she sighed and closed her eyes. Letting go of her stress in one deep breath, she smiled. This was her parents’ wedding day. Her dad had pulled massive strings to find an open time for them to get married at Kubota Gardens, and this beautiful, sunny day would mark the beginning of a new life for the two of them. This was their day, and she could burst with joy at how happy they'd been these last two months.
She felt the limo accelerating and opened her eyes, found them merging onto Interstate 5. We shouldn't be heading north, though; Kubota Gardens are south. She tapped on the glass separating her from the driver. “Hey, you're going the wrong way. Hey!"
She tapped again, but he ignored her, not even flicking an eyelash her way. Instead, he picked up his cell phone and punched a couple of buttons, said a few words she couldn't hear and hung up.
Cassie fumed for a moment, then a shocking thought crossed her mind.
She'd gotten into the limo without even making certain this was the driver her mother had hired. Could this be a kidnapping?
<
br /> Fear cluttered her thinking. She had her cell phone. She could call for help, describe the limo and driver to police and they could find her. She dove back into that too-tiny purse right just as her phone began to ring.
It was her mom's cell number on the caller ID. Flipping her hair back, she pressed the tiny cell to her ear. “Mom, your driver's heading the wrong way. What's up with that?"
Lucia's laugh rang out. “Relax, darling. He's making a small detour. I'm hoping you'll enjoy it."
Cassie's brow furrowed with suspicion. “What kind of detour? I'm not in the mood for your games, Mom."
Lucia chortled. “I'm sorry, darling, but just one more. Oh, and Cassandra?"
"Yes?"
"I broke my promise.” With that, her mother hung up.
Cassie almost tossed the phone in frustration. Oh, yes, her mom was up to something! And on her wedding day! You'd think she could behave herself on this one day at least.
Cassie banged on the window again. “Hey, you! Turn this car around. Whatever scheme my mother cooked up, I don't want any part of. Are you listening?” No response. “Hey, I'm an attorney, and I know my rights. This could be considered kidnapping!"
In reply, the driver took off his sunglasses, turned to face her, and winked.
Cassie's heart slammed into her throat as shock hit her.
Mike!
He slid the window open, all the while watching the traffic. His mouth twitched under the goatee. “Actually, Cass, it's not your mom's scheme. I called her and arranged this. I wanted a couple of hours with you, and this seemed like a good way to get it. Besides,” and his eyes slid over her in appreciation. “You all gussied up is a bonus I couldn't pass up.” With that, he slid the window shut and returned all his attention to his driving.
Cassie was torn between excitement and anger. How dare he manipulate her! But then again, if he went to such effort, could it mean he wanted to be with her again?
That tiny kernel of hope that had refused to die flared to life inside her, and she tried to tamp it down. There could be a dozen reasons why he'd done this. Perhaps he wanted to salvage their friendship. Maybe he'd made up with Cal, and her brother wanted him to talk to her. Maybe...