Where was Ginger? Cassandra tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for her to return.
“Is something wrong, dear?” her mother asked.
Cassandra couldn’t tell her the truth. “No.”
Except so much was wrong. She was a fraud. She loved the dress, but she couldn’t have it. She wasn’t getting married. She might not ever get married.
Catching another glimpse of her reflection, Cassandra blinked back a tear. She’d found the perfect dress—the perfect dress for a wedding that would never happen.
♥ ♥ ♥
After golfing and lunch with Dixon, Troy met Cassie in downtown Carmel where he watched her sit on a wooden stool and have her face painted by a clown. Cute, except Cassie gnawed on her lip. Maybe she didn’t like clowns. Maybe something had happened with her mother. Or maybe Cassie was still annoyed with him.
That seemed the most likely. He didn’t know her well, but pushing Cassie didn’t seem to work. Dixon had warned him last night, and he was correct about his daughter. She dug in and raised more walls. At least that was how it appeared to Troy.
With only one more night and day in Carmel, they could survive without the fake engagement blowing up in their faces.
She looked at him. “Are you sure you don’t want your face painted?”
“I’ll pass.”
Face painting wasn’t for him, but Carmel was. A gentle breeze blew a rainbow windsock hanging outside a flower shop. Birds chirped from a nearby tree. Tourists strolled along the quaint streets lined with galleries, cafés, and trendy boutiques.
Someone giggled behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder.
Three young girls waited in line to have their faces painted. They whispered to one another.
He smiled.
One of the girls, dressed in pink overalls, blushed and covered her mouth with her hands. With her curly blond hair, all she needed was a pair of wings and a halo to look like a little angel.
Troy wondered what Cassie had looked like when she was younger. No doubt a real cutie with her heart-shaped face and baby-blue eyes.
Sighing, he hoped he had all boys when he had kids. Daughters would age a man, fast. Especially if they turned out to be anything like Cassie.
Whoa. Where had that come from?
He wanted a family, yes. But not now. Maybe when he was in his mid-thirties, set in his career, and able to provide for children without a second thought. And not with someone like her.
She was the perfect fiancée for a weekend, but no longer. Troy needed a woman—make that a wife—who would be an asset to his career, not a novelty. Cassie wouldn’t be content chatting politely and networking at a cocktail party of movers and shakers in the V.C. and hi-tech world.
Her idea of fun would be… Troy rubbed the back of his neck. He had no idea really, but he was a hundred percent certain whatever it was would likely be inappropriate and unprofessional.
Standing, Cassie handed the clown a ten-dollar bill. With a big grin on her face, she faced him and struck a pose. Two daisies graced her flushed cheek. The flowers matched the ones on her dress.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“It’s nice.”
“Nice?” Two lines formed above the bridge of her nose. “I wonder how you would describe my tattoo?”
“Tattoo?” Nothing about her should surprise Troy, but he wondered what kind of tattoo she had. A heart? Or a flower? Wildflowers? A rose, perhaps? But where? The idea of finding it made him smile.
“Yes, don’t you?”
“Uh, no.”
She blew out a breath. “You need to spice up your life. You wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re boring.”
He cringed. Next to Cassie, anyone would seem bland. “My life is exciting enough.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Where’s your tattoo?”
She tilted her chin. “That’s my secret.”
The sly smile on her face intrigued Troy. He imagined trying to find her tattoo, but the pictures forming in his mind raised his temperature twenty-five degrees. He needed to think about something different and cool off.
“Want to get ice cream?” he asked.
“Sure. There’s a place nearby.”
The ice-cream parlor was empty except for a family of four sitting at a round table. Cassie ordered a waffle cone with a scoop of Rocky Road and a scoop of Chocolate Fudge Brownie. He settled for a scoop of vanilla in a cup.
“Do you want to eat here?” he asked.
“Yes.” Cassie pointed to a small marble-top table near the window. “You can tell me how golfing went with my dad.”
Troy grabbed four napkins, handing three of them to Cassie before he sat at the table. “We had a wonderful time.”
“Details.”
He ate a spoonful of his ice cream. Cool and tasty, just what he needed to forget Cassie, who was hot and tasty. “You want details?”
“Don’t leave anything out.”
“I lost the round, so I bought lunch.”
Her eyes widened. “My father let you buy?”
“Yes.” Troy didn’t consider buying lunch a big deal. He’d insisted on paying, but he didn’t tell her that. “Your dad beat me, but he was upset over his score.”
“He has a four handicap.”
Huh? Troy parted his lips. “Dixon said he was a hacker.”
A dribble of chocolate sat at the corner of Cassie’s mouth. She licked the spot with the pink tip of her tongue. “He plays at least three times a week.”
“I was had.” Dixon wasn’t the only one trying to take Troy. Cassie was driving him crazy with the sexy way she licked her ice-cream cone.
Talk about torture. He couldn’t wait until she’d finished.
“Don’t worry. You made his day.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “What did you do after lunch?”
“Your dad gave me a tour of the lodge. Surprise, surprise. We ended up in a large banquet room that he said was a nice place for a wedding reception.”
Dixon had been far from subtle in maneuvering Troy into the room, but he had to give the man credit. The elegant room, with a hardwood dance floor and picture windows overlooking the golf course and the Pacific Ocean, would be the perfect place for a wedding reception.
Someday.
When he found the perfect woman and was ready to get married.
“It was a nice space,” Troy added.
“Emily and Eric had their reception there, so I can see why my dad said that. I hope the two of you didn’t select a date and reserve the room because that’s the last place I’d want.” Cassie sounded annoyed, but taking her seriously with daisies painted on her cheek and chocolate on her upper lip was impossible.
“We didn’t, but your father thought spring would be a good time for a wedding.” Reaching over, Troy wiped her lip with his napkin. “You missed a spot.”
Her pupils dilated. If he hadn’t been looking directly into her eyes, he would have missed it.
“Thanks,” she said.
“I thought about what you said this morning.” Especially after Dixon mentioned an opening at his firm. “I don’t buy the soul mates for eternity, but your parents are possibly getting carried away.”
“I told you so.”
Troy deserved that, but she didn’t have to sound so smug. “Can’t we share the blame? We’re in this together.”
“I suppose.” Cassie bit into the crunchy cone.
“After seeing the banquet room, I mentioned wanting a traditional church wedding, but that you wanted to get married in your bare feet at the beach and have a shaman perform the ceremony.”
“A shaman.” She chuckled. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie. I can’t believe you came up with that on your own.”
Pride rushed through Troy. He sat taller. No matter what Cassie might think, he wasn’t a stick-in-the-mud. He worked hard to get ahead. That didn’t leave him time for much else besides his job.
“I can be creative
when called upon.”
“What did my dad say?” Her smile tugged at Troy’s heart.
“He said the beach might be difficult. Women in high heels. But he didn’t see a problem if you went barefoot.”
Her mouth dropped open. “My father said that?”
Troy nodded. He wasn’t about to mention that Dixon thought Cassie’s gown would cover her feet so whether she wore shoes or not wouldn’t matter.
“What about the shaman?” she asked.
Troy laughed. “He didn’t see a problem with that.”
“Please tell me you said something else besides the shaman.”
“Well…”
She sighed. “Your sheepish grin tells me everything I need to know, Troy McKnight. You didn’t say anything else.”
“Cassie—”
“You could’ve told my father I wanted you to quit your job and farm algae in Oregon.”
“Like he’d believe that,” Troy said. “I didn’t want to press the issue and be too obvious.”
“Why not?”
“We were having a good time.” Besides, Dixon deserved better. The man had taught Troy more during eighteen holes of golf than Troy had learned in one of his business school classes. The career advice Dixon had given him had been invaluable. “I didn’t want to spoil it.”
“You.” Cassie crumpled a napkin and then threw it at him. “You’re too nice.”
No, Troy wasn’t nice. If he were nice, he wouldn’t be wishing he could have licked the chocolate from her face instead of wiping it off.
“Do you ever not play by the rules?” she asked.
“I try not to bend them much. Agreeing to be your fake fiancé isn’t my normal M.O.”
“You’re positively hopeless.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Go right ahead.”
He grinned. “What about you? How was your day?”
Cassie rubbed her forehead. “My mother took me shopping for a wedding gown.”
That couldn’t have been easy on her. He remembered her reaction over her wedding dress that first night they’d met.
“I’m sorry.” He touched her arm. “This is getting out of hand.”
She didn’t meet his eyes but nodded.
He hated seeing her so…not sad, more worried. “This put you on the spot with your mom, but did you at least see anything you liked?”
“As a matter of fact, I—” Cassie’s cheeks reddened. She frowned. “What are we doing? If we’re not careful, we’ll be married and have a baby on the way before we know what’s happening.”
Her dire tone made him laugh. He couldn’t help himself. “I doubt that. We’d definitely know what was happening in both those cases.”
She slammed her hand on the table. The sound reverberated through the ice-cream shop. “We need to do something drastic.”
Troy’s gut tightened. Cassie most likely had a different definition of the word drastic than he did. She was an extremist. He was a middle-of-the-road kind of guy. “I don’t like the sound of drastic.”
“I’m not saying we stage a revolution, but pretending we’re engaged is working out too well.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “My parents love you.”
“Good! Because I like them.”
She made a face as if she were eating lemons not ice cream.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’re halfway through the weekend.”
“But I didn’t realize they’d be so excited about the wedding. You admitted this was getting out of hand.”
“Yes.” And could possibly get worse. If he wanted to work for Dixon, the job and Cassie would be a package deal. No. Troy couldn’t begin to consider that.
“I know you’re worried about your career,” she said. “But my sanity is at stake here.”
His, too. “I know.”
Time for a reality check. Troy needed Cassie more than she needed him. Her parents’ meddling was one thing, but his job could be on the line if Mick found out Troy had lied about being engaged.
“All we need is a plan.” He was good at coming up with those. “We have less than twenty-four hours until we leave. We can survive this if we do it together.”
She didn’t say anything, but she rubbed her upper lip over her bottom one.
Her hesitation concerned him. He needed her to agree. “Think you can make it until then?”
“I… Yes, I can,” she said to his relief. “It’s just… Oh, no.”
“What?”
Her lips parted. “Hold my hand and gaze lovingly into my eyes.”
Troy assumed Cassie had a logical explanation for her request until she lifted his hand and kissed each of his fingers. She hadn’t been kidding when she said her sanity was at stake because she’d just lost her mind.
He pulled his hand away, but she held on. He tried again. “What are you—”
“PDA in an ice-cream parlor,” a female voice crooned.
Troy turned.
Emily dragged a frowning Eric toward the table. “I can understand such a public display of affection from my sister, but Troy, really. I thought better of you.”
No wonder Cassie had acted so strangely. He stopped trying to pull away. A good thing since she tightened her grip on his hand.
“What are you doing here?”
“We were shopping and saw you in the window. I’m sure the entire village has been watching you.”
Troy wouldn’t describe the tense atmosphere as sisterly. Frenemy didn’t come close. This was something else. Something bad.
Releasing his hand, Cassie straightened in her chair. “I meant, why are you in Carmel?”
“Didn’t Mother tell you? I guess not from the surprised expression on your face.” Emily’s tittering laughter filled the ice-cream parlor. “Guess who’s coming to dinner?”
8
That night, not even a delicious prime-rib dinner could make the meal enjoyable for Cassandra. She sat next to Troy at her parents’ dining room table. Emily and Eric sat on the opposite side with her parents at each end. The newlyweds monopolized the conversation with their house-hunting woes in Palo Alto, but that didn’t keep the tension from ratcheting to unbearable levels. Cassandra couldn’t take it much longer.
Having Troy with her helped. She might tease him about being boring, but he was a calming influence when he wasn’t aggravating her. Yes, he could be annoying, especially when he wouldn’t let her have her way. She had to admit his reliance on plans was anal but cute. Too bad he wouldn’t be around much longer.
Not too bad.
She couldn’t come to rely on him.
Or anyone.
With her resolve firmly back in place, she glanced around the table. She seemed to be the only one uncomfortable tonight. Maybe that was because she was the only one who knew the truth about what really happened with her, Emily, and Eric.
Time to tell her parents the truth?
Possibly, because she couldn’t continue this way.
Seeing Emily and Eric together brought back the pain of finding them in Cassandra’s old apartment.
In her bed.
Naked.
Only to have to pretend that hadn’t happened when Eric claimed he’d broken up with her. Somehow, she’d managed to survive their engagement. She’d held her head high only to be knocked to the ground by having to be Emily’s maid of honor. Oh, Cassandra had put on a brave face. Still, watching her sister walk down the aisle and standing next to her at the altar were two of the hardest things Cassandra had ever done in her life.
Love equaled hurt. Whether romantic or family love, it didn’t matter. Cassandra would never allow herself to be hurt or feel that kind of pain again. Which was why controlling her emotions should be easy.
And it had been.
Until Troy.
Cassandra glanced his way.
So what if a day of golfing had tanned Troy’s face? The plaid of his Oxford shirt intensified his striking blue eyes. He looked more gorgeous tha
n ever. She could imagine dating him for real.
Not. Going. To. Happen.
Troy was her pretend fiancé, her fake fiancé.
In less than twenty-four hours, this charade would be over. She would be free. Free of her parents, and free of Troy. No sense getting wrapped up in silly daydreams. They had a plan. She needed to do her part and be one-half of the perfect couple they’d created, one-half of a lie.
She plastered on a fake smile. Easy-peasy.
After dinner, Cassandra followed everyone into the living room to let their food digest and make room for dessert—devil’s food cake.
Her dad sat on one of the two chairs opposite the fireplace. “It’s so nice to have both my girls home.”
As she nodded, her mother’s gaze traveled from Emily to Cassandra. “We should do this more often.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Emily said.
Cassandra bit her tongue. No way would she agree. She sat on the farthest couch, and Troy joined her there. Her parents must have drunk too much wine. One big happy family did not describe their dinner at all. She really had to speak up about what had happened last year.
Especially when Emily and Eric feigned innocence and acted like betraying someone they claimed to care about was no big deal. The two sat on the other couch and cuddled together.
Cassandra wanted to throw up, but she tried to keep the emotions from showing on her face.
Knowing her sister was watching, Cassandra nestled against Troy. Emily’s hints and innuendos about their engagement had been less than subtle, but Emily would find only a happy, content-to-be-engaged couple tonight.
Troy draped his arm around her shoulder.
Cassandra’s breath hitched. Her heart pounded so loudly she glanced up at him to see if he’d noticed. He wasn’t looking at her. His breathing was steady. His heart rate hadn’t changed. His nearness wreaked havoc with her vital signs, and his calmness irritated her. Not fair. He should be as miserable as her.
Her father rose from his chair and then poured brandy into crystal snifters. “I heard you found a dress, Cassie?”
A wedding dress. Perfect, yes. But she didn’t need one. Come tomorrow night, she would no longer have a fiancé. “Not yet, Dad.”
Vote Then Read: Volume II Page 295