by Tiana Cole
You are such a dimwit, she chided herself.
Chapter Three
“Thanks, Cassidy. G’night.”
Cassidy waved her hand in farewell as the last customer headed out the door. She was glad to close early tonight. It would give her a chance to do her laundry, but first she had to drop by the all-night market and pick up a few things on her way home. Her equilibrium had been restored after two days of moping around and looking like a lost puppy.
Get over it… she scolded herself each time her thoughts brought her back to Tristan and all her silly expectations.
She quickly changed into her street clothes, ditching her café uniform in favor of a pair of jeans, a floral belly shirt that showed a sliver of mocha skin, and a pair of white sneakers. Before turning off all the lights, she remembered to tick off the supplies that Ron needed to order from the commissary the next morning. When she was confident she hadn’t forgotten anything, she headed out the door.
Traffic was light and there was still some daylight left, but the cool breeze forewarned that rain might come later in the evening. Cassidy headed towards the corner, wanting to cross the street, and she waited for the light to turn red before stepping down off the curb. She shrieked in fright as a silver BMW came careening towards her, making her leap back onto the sidewalk. The car came to a full stop right in front of her.
Cassidy let loose a mouthful of expletives.
“You fucking asshole! Fucking idiot! Are you blind, you son of a bitch? Who taught you how to drive, Helen Keller? Useless piece of shit!”
She saw her faint reflection in the heavily-tinted window as she was cursing the driver. She would have given the expensive monstrosity a hard kick just for effect, but the window slowly lowered to reveal the driver of the car.
Recognition came fast as the rest of the words stuck in her throat.
“You!” Cassidy gasped in disbelief at the face she thought would never see again.
Tristan was grinning at her from the driver's seat with the same disheveled hair. Doesn’t he own a comb? The silly thought flashed through her brain.
“Hi!” Tristan greeted her with a warm smile. “Get in,” he urged her, motioning towards the passenger seat.
Cassidy wanted to stomp her feet in annoyance and keep walking. She realized how childish that would look, however, so she immediately stifled the impulse as she stood there, unsure what to do. The cacophony of honking horns from irritated drivers propelled her decision. She dashed towards the passenger door, opened it, and got in. She opted to look straight ahead and maintain a stony silence.
“I’m sorry if I scared you that way.”
Silence.
“I just wanted to catch you before you crossed the street, that‘s all.”
More silence accompanied by rolling eyes.
“I passed by the coffee shop and saw it was closed. I was hoping to find you there. Then I saw you were about to cross the street.”
She wasn’t ready to say anything yet. She really didn’t know what to say to him, but her heart was fluttering wildly inside her chest. He had been rushing to see her.
“If you crossed the street before I got to you, the next turn is three blocks away. You would have been gone by the time I got back.”
“So… you decided to run me over instead?” she asked heatedly.
“No! No, of course not. I’m sorry if I scared you. I am everything you called me. I’m an asshole and an idiot. Also a real son of a bitch. Oh, and useless piece of shit.” With a wink he added, “And, yes, Helen Keller taught my Driver‘s Education class.”
Cassidy couldn’t ignore the amusement in his voice. A grin was begging to be let loose on her face.
“Okay, so I overreacted,” she began, “but it’s not every day that a flashy BMW comes hurtling towards me.”
“Can I take you out to dinner to make up for my lack of consideration for your well-being?” Tristan smiled warmly.
Cassidy was taken by surprise by the sudden invitation. He sounded like a true gentleman saying those words. And now that she had time to cool down and compose herself, she had to admit that she was thrilled to see him again. It was the last thing she’d expected to happen tonight.
“Well… okay. Nothing fancy, though,” she smiled back. “I’m not exactly dressed for anything more than a hotdog and a coke.”
“Will you settle for a pizza instead?” Tristan smirked.
Cassidy nodded. She would settle for cat food if he offered, because right now it felt heavenly just being with him.
He drove defensively and skillfully, expertly dodging traffic until he slowed down and came to a stop in a park near Lincoln Center. Cassidy stepped out and breathed in the cool evening air. They walked through the cobblestone pavement that crisscrossed under tall cedar trees with metal chairs strewn here and there were occupied by folks eating alfresco. A live band was playing nearby. Street vendors hawked flowers and an odd assortment of knick-knacks.
This was what drew Cassidy to New York. It was a city that was so full of life; so vibrant, with its melting pot of strange and weird creatures. Tristan stopped by a red food truck, greeted the owner, and ordered a medium pepperoni pizza along with a pitcher of soda. Then he led her towards a wooden table and politely pulled out a chair while gesturing for her to sit.
Cassidy fidgeted with her fingers before resting her chin on her hands. She looked everywhere except at him. When she finally got the nerve to do so, she discovered that he was gazing at her intently, head nodding with furrowed brows like he was coming to some conclusion.
“What?” she asked, intrigued by the look on his face.
“You’re just as mesmerizing as when I saw you last.”
"And you’re still a mystery to me,” she replied back.
He raised an eyebrow, shrugging his shoulders at the same time.
“What do you wanna know?”
“For starters, why did you leave such a huge tip? And the flowers that came the next day?”
“Can’t you just be appreciative and say thank you?”
“Oh, thank you! ” Cassidy exclaimed, feeling somewhat chastised. Why did he make her feel so guilty?
“That’s my girl. And I was only kidding. In all seriousness, the tip was for your company. I made you stay longer at the café when you could have been on your way home and I felt lousy about that. The flowers… well, they were just to remind you how much I enjoyed talking to you,” Tristan explained with a gentleness and sincerity in his captivating eyes.
“First of all, I’m not your girl,” Cassidy began, only to quickly be interrupted.
“We could remedy that…” Tristan chuckled.
“Wha…”
This was getting confusing.
Cassidy carried on like she'd misheard. She must have. Or did she?
“Nobody leaves a $500.00 tip! Well, maybe in the movies they do, but not in the real world. And the flowers were a little too excessive for the pleasure of my company.”
“So you didn’t like it?” Tristan asked in concern.
“What? The tip?”
"No, the flowers,” he answered.
“Yes, I liked them. They were beautiful.”
“So… you liked them?”
“Yes, that‘s what I just said,” Cassidy replied in annoyance.
“Then why are we even having this conversation?” Tristan joked.
Cassidy looked at him in exasperation.
“Tristan… I… I…”
“I like it when you say my name.”
“You’re an incorrigible flirt,” Cassidy accused with a grin.
Tristan burst out laughing and she realized she liked the way it sounded.
“Are you always this way with women?” she asked.
“No, not always. Only to the ones I really like.”
“So you like me then?”
"What’s there not to like about you?” Tristan asked, giving her a sweeping look.
“Duh! I work at a local café
while you do beautiful photography… and drive a BMW. We have nothing in common.”
“The car could just be a rental, and I could be a struggling photographer trying to make a name for myself,” Tristan answered with a serious face.
“Is it a rental?” Cassidy’s brow raised in curiosity. “Somehow, I don’t think it is. You and that car make a good pair. It’s like you two belong together.”
“It’s just a car, Cassidy,” Tristan laughed. “It doesn’t define who I am.”
He didn’t answer her questions directly, but Cassidy was capable of reaching her own logical conclusions. She didn’t know much about luxury vehicles, but she knew enough to know he drove a very expensive one. One that he couldn’t possibly afford if he was just a struggling photographer.
No, there was something more to him. Cassidy knew it. There was an air about him… and it drew her. She was intrigued by him. It wasn’t just the movie-star looks. Good-looking guys were a dime a dozen in New York. Even the gay men were ridiculously handsome. Tristan was different, however. He exuded authority somehow, like he always had the last word in everything, although he managed to camouflage it by his seemingly casual and friendly manner. Cassidy couldn’t put a finger on it yet, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something.
A thought flashed through her mind and almost made her choke on her slice of pizza. It was piping hot and she was carefully trying not to burn her tongue.
“Ahm you maw-ried?” she jumbled, reaching for the soda to push the food down her throat.
“Excuse me?” Tristan chuckled.
“Are you married?” she blurted, the words coming out clearly this time.
Tristan shook his head, while replying, “No, no, no. I’m definitely not married, I promise you.” After a short pause he added earnestly, “Hell, I don’t even have a girlfriend. If I did, I would have mentioned it before I asked you out.”
Okay, so he seemed straightforward and candid. That was like a breath of fresh air in New York City. She trusted he was being sincere, leaned back, and resumed eating. The pizza tasted even better now that she knew he was single.
“That was a load off your mind, huh?” Tristan remarked with a grin.
Cassidy nodded her head truthfully, remembering her share of those knotty relationships. Most guys didn’t advertise their status or deliberately hid the truth. She was quite naïve when she first came to the Big Apple and had fallen prey a couple of times in the past.
To her credit, those experiences had made her wiser and less susceptible to sweet talkers. She discovered that men were often intimidated by her candor. Most girls preferred to play the game of seduction with blatant disregard for the consequences. Too many stories of unwanted pregnancies and botched abortions had made her wary.
Tristan felt different. There was real potential here, and she knew it. The thought that it might lead to something more excited and exhilarated her. And, right now, his attraction for her was obvious. She felt it in the way he looked at her. Like she was the only girl in the world.
Cassidy recognized the reason she felt let down when he didn’t show sooner. Most guys would have pressed their intentions immediately just to prove they were interested, yet he didn’t. It took him almost a week to come looking for her, and this made her wonder what his game was.
However, for once in her life she wanted to throw caution to the wind as she accepted her own attraction for him. She was overcome by a tingly feeling like cold water washing over her on a very hot summer day. Her body vibrated and hummed like she was coming to life.
She also recognized the sexual arousal as her breasts tightened. Her nipples puckered, feeling sensitive as they rubbed against her cotton blouse. Tristan drew closer and Cassidy caught the slight movement through half-closed eyes. He was near enough that she caught the scent of the cologne he was wearing. She looked at him, her body language telling him it was okay to come even closer.
For a split second she worried he wasn’t picking up on the cue until he finally leaned in and his shoulder touched hers. Like kindling touched by a match, her body lit up. She hoped he wouldn’t see her strong reaction. She’d play it cool with him, she silently resolved. She didn’t know enough about him yet to ignite the passion fire.
“Tell me about your friends,” Tristan said. His grey-green eyes looked into hers inquisitively. Did he really want to know so much about her? She figured it was better than talking about mom and dad, or telling him about the money she sent to them on a regular basis and how she earned it.
“I know some people, like the gang at the coffee shop, but I don’t really have good friends here. You know, the kind that know all of your secrets. I haven’t met anyone I’m comfortable enough around to get that deep with. It’s all friendly banter and what’s happening in the news.” She still felt his shoulder now solidly against her side. It was as though her left side was glowing.
“So, what do you do when you’re not working at the coffee shop?” he asked, and sounded like he genuinely wanted to know. What could she tell him? She had to think of something... fast. He couldn’t know that her “spare” time was really spent working at a scandalous second job that made her wildly uncomfortable. Should she tell him about her secret dream? No, not on a first date. She wanted to be a great writer, and her latest notebook was yet another testament to that. Other women had done it, so why not her? She made her answer bland instead.
“The days at the café are long. By the time I get home I just want to crash. As soon as I walk through the door I put on my comfy clothes and veg. What do you do when you’re not taking photos?” If she turned the conversation back on him, she knew she’d temporarily be off the hook.
Tristan pulled his shoulder away and Cassidy felt a sudden longing. What? From a mere shoulder touch? She had more control than that.
He sat up straight, watching the pizza guy effortlessly twirl dough. He kept his gaze blankly fixated on the man as he answered, “Well, I have my photography, and that keeps me out and about. I also have a makeshift studio set up in my loft and occasionally have clients over for professional shoots. It sounds more glamorous than it really is, believe me. I spend time making the images pop. Adjusting the lighting and removing imperfections, stuff like that. I spend a lot of time on the computer doing post-production work.”
“That sounds very technical,” Cassidy replied. “So you’re a whiz at computers. Meanwhile, I can barely get my mobile phone to work,” she chuckled. “We’re at the opposite ends of that spectrum.”
God, she thought. What does he see in me? I still don’t understand that $500.00 tip. Where does a photographer get $500.00 bills to throw around so casually?
At the same time, she felt sparks ignite inside of her. Was it the tousled hair? His eyes? His overall good looks?
Tristan laughed. The surrounding evening lights made his eyes sparkle as he tossed up his head at her joke. Even though he seemed casual, she could feel him steal sideways glances. He looked at her face. He glanced at her hair. He followed the movement of her hands when she spoke. As Tristan and Cassidy went through the motions of a requisite night out, an onlooker would conclude that they were two attractive people out on a date. They ate more pizza and drank the remains of the soda. No one around them was aware of the sexual tension that was mounting slowly between them. It was there when he accidentally brushed his hand against hers, or when she tilted her head in laughter, lips slightly parted. His hand dropped casually to her thigh and she made no move to push it away. Her breath quickened as a slight flush suffused her entire being.
A momentary silence that spoke volumes settled between them. He reached out a knuckle and caressed the side of her cheek. She responded with a languorous stretch of her body. Keep it casual, Cassidy, she thought, but inside her body ached for more.
“Where do we go from here, Cassidy?” he asked.
She took a moment to process the question. It felt like she was standing at some crossroad. One side was familiar
and she could navigate the twists and turns blindfolded. The other was unfamiliar and she might lose her way. The adventure, however, could be worth the risk.
She chose the strange and new.
“Anywhere… as long as it is with you,” she responded with a smile.
Chapter Four
A heightened sense of excitement made Cassidy lose track of time and space. She remembered fleeting images of the city flashing through the car window before Tristan turned towards a quiet, residential neighborhood. Cassidy was unsure where they were, but she was willing to guess that it was a fashionable Upper East Side neighborhood. The extra wide streets lined with century-old trees were empty of pedestrians, but in front of the classic boutiques, art cinemas, and fine restaurants, luxury vehicles lined the street.
They came to a stop in front of a squat building with classical designs and an intricately carved cartouche decorating the elegant entrance.
“This is my parents’ house…” he said with a discomfited look.
“What the fuck? Why did you bring me here?” she replied, shrinking lower into the leather seat of the BMW.
“They’re away for the summer, no worries,” he chuckled. “We have the place all to ourselves,” he assured her, slightly abashed by her reaction.
Comforted that she wasn’t running into anyone she wasn’t ready to meet, she allowed him to usher her in. The apartment had a quiet classiness with walled paneling and marble floors. The furnishings were minimalist and screamed understated elegance. She’d seen photos of these houses in ‘Better Homes and Gardens.’
“My bedroom is this way…” Tristan said, studying her face for clues.
He opened the door to a spacious room that was bigger than her apartment. It had a vaulted ceiling with walls of rough concrete and bleached brick, giving the impression of a very masculine space.
“This is nice,” Cassidy commented, eyeing the king-sized bed with pleated headboard.