Vote Then Read: Volume II

by Lauren Blakely

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  That evening, Troy walked toward Cassie’s bookstore. The area wasn’t as upscale as where he lived, but the neighborhood had a trendy vibe. Shops and cafés lined each side of the street. The scents of olive oil and lamb wafted in the air as he passed a crowded Greek restaurant.

  His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten much at breakfast or lunch. Not due to work. He couldn’t eat. Thanks to Cassie.

  She’d been on his mind since her call. Okay, before that, but more so now. Where had she spent last night and with who? She must have had a good time if she hurt her back.

  Everything inside of him felt so tight—like a knob cranked too many turns. At any moment, he would explode.

  Troy didn’t understand why she’d gone out with another guy. Sure, their engagement wasn’t real, but her kisses hadn’t been for show or fun. They’d meant something.

  To him, at least.

  He thought they had to her, too.

  Warning bells sounded. Danger signs illuminated.

  He was falling for Cassie Daniels. And falling in a way he hadn’t done before. His once-routine life was being taken over by a woman who would think nothing of ordering dessert first at a five-star restaurant. A woman who would jump out of an airplane and then check to see if she were wearing a parachute. A woman he’d known a little more than a week.

  Troy’s stomach knotted.

  What was going on? He’d never felt this way. He didn’t want to feel this way now. Not about Cassie. He had an excellent job with a partnership on the horizon. In a few years, he’d have everything he ever wanted. He’d never have to worry about taking care of his family…about anything. He didn’t need this.

  Her.

  So why was he upset?

  Because he couldn’t stop thinking about Cassie kissing another man.

  Troy wanted to punch someone, preferably her new guy. As his temperature rose, he flexed his fingers. That didn’t relax him. Nothing he’d tried all day had.

  It took him a minute to realize he’d walked past the bookstore. He retraced his steps until he stood under a wooden sign that said Cassandra’s Attic. He peered in the front window that was decorated for Halloween with a jack-o’-lantern, cobwebs, and spiders. Horror hardcovers and children’s paperbacks were also displayed.

  Smiling, Cassie stood behind the counter and spoke to a customer. Something in Troy’s stomach fluttered. He might not be happy with Cassie, but he couldn’t stop staring. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but blond tendrils framed her face. Pink earrings dangled from her ears and matched her T-shirt.

  Beautiful.

  But not his.

  A weight pressed against the center of his chest. Cassie had wanted only a fiancé for the night. That had turned into two weeks. Now that he’d spent the weekend with her, he was confused about his feelings. He shouldn’t want to spend more time with her, but he did.

  Cassie might annoy him at times, but she also made him laugh. He was used to his life being predictable and, okay, he’d admit it, boring. She brought needed spontaneity into his scheduled days. He never knew what to expect when she was around. That wasn’t always a good thing, but he’d had more fun with her in the past week than in the past three years.

  A man approached the shop. He opened the door and then glanced at Troy. “Going inside?”

  Troy took a step toward the entrance. He couldn’t stand out here all night. “Thanks.”

  Walking into the store, he smelled cinnamon and cloves. Old wooden shelves crammed with books fit the casual atmosphere. Homey signs pointed out the various sections. Burnt-orange walls gave the place an overall warmth.

  So much potential.

  After graduating college, he’d worked as a business consultant before going to get his MBA. He scanned the layout and imagined improvements that could be made. Some with no cost, only a little sweat.

  Arranging the shelves differently would make better use of the space. The loft could be converted to a coffee bar. But as it was, the store was quaint with a homey, small-town charm, but seeing the possibilities of ways to improve the flow of customers and increase income excited him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time if he were honest with himself. Not that he didn’t offer suggestions to the startups they invested in, but he’d forgotten how much he’d enjoyed his old job despite all the traveling.

  A man with jet-black hair sat on a wooden chair and held a large book. Toward the rear of the store, a woman read to her two children. Several other customers lounged on stools reading books and magazines.

  “I’ll be with you in a minute, Troy,” Cassie said from behind the counter. She focused her attention on an elderly woman.

  Cassie dashed out from behind the counter, hurried down an aisle, pulled a paperback from a shelf, and rushed back. As she rang up the sale, she laughed as if her customer were an old friend. As soon as Cassie said goodbye, another customer—a thirty-something female—stepped up to the counter with a stack of paperbacks.

  Cassie glanced at Troy.

  “Go ahead. I’m early.” He enjoyed seeing her in action. She might act unconventional and claim to be a free spirit, but she knew how to run a business and keep her clients happy. In such a tough market for independent bookstores, customer service could be the difference between success and failure.

  Another customer walked up to the counter to make a purchase.

  Cassie yelled, “Moe.”

  As she reached under the counter, a twenty-something man raced down the stairs. He had short black hair with a six-inch multicolored mohawk down the center. He was tall and thin with an ear-to-ear grin. His jeans were ripped, and he wore a black T-shirt with a quote from Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven.

  Cassie whispered something into the man’s ear, and Moe stepped behind the counter.

  Walking toward Troy, Cassie swung a small purse over her shoulder. A black skirt flowed around her legs. “I’m sorry you had to wait.”

  “You have a nice bookstore.”

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  Troy motioned to the man behind the counter who watched every move Cassie made. “Does he work for you?”

  She looked over. “You mean Moe?”

  Troy nodded.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s my right hand and best friend.” The affection in her voice matched her words.

  Was Moe her new boyfriend? Troy gritted his teeth. “How long has he worked for you?”

  “Since I opened. He wandered in when I was painting, and that was it. He’s been my guardian angel since.” She faced Moe. “Bye.”

  Moe’s lopsided grin looked fake to Troy. Maybe he should warn Cassie. Or ask Dixon to run a background check on the guy. Who just walked into a place like that?

  “Have fun, Cass,” Moe said.

  Cass. Moe called her Cass?

  Troy waited for her to correct Moe.

  She merely smiled. “Are you ready, Troy?”

  He was ready to kill Moe. Was he the one who hurt her back?

  Troy clenched his hand. “Does Moe stand for Mohawk?”

  Cassie laughed. “No. It’s a nickname. His real name is Zack.”

  Troy didn’t know why he was torturing himself, but he had to ask. “Why Moe?”

  “He’s a big Three Stooges fan. He didn’t think Curly fit him. His brother is named Larry, and who wants to be called Shemp?” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. The same way she’d asked Troy to be her fiancé.

  Okay, time to go. He opened the door for her. “Is your back better?”

  Why did he ask her that? He didn’t want to know the details.

  “It is, thank you.” Cassie walked outside the store. “It’s my own fault. Moe told me, but I wouldn’t listen.”

  Troy did not want to hear the intimate details of her night of passion with a man named after one of the Three Stooges. “Cassie, I—”

  “Moe told me I wasn’t in my early twenties anymore. That I couldn’t stay up all night and wo
rk on—”

  “I really—” Wait, what did she say? “Work?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Being gone over the weekend put me behind. Moe did what he could, but he was too busy with customers. So we had to stack books and rearrange the shelves. Moe had to leave around two in the morning. He made me promise I wouldn’t walk home alone.”

  Way to go, Moe.

  Troy wanted to shake the man’s hand. “What about your back?”

  “I slept on the floor in the storeroom. Guess Moe’s right. I’m not a young pup anymore.”

  “None of us are.” Troy’s relief was palpable. No need to be concerned or jealous. Not that he had been.

  Not much anyway.

  11

  Cassandra hadn’t been to this store. Someone had purchased her and Eric a present from here. She remembered the box, but she couldn’t remember what had been inside. That time was such a blur, except for the overwhelming emotions.

  Tonight, she noticed this place smelled like money.

  Her stomach clenched. She didn’t want to be here.

  This wasn’t where she would shop. Not ever. She much preferred discount stores, but she had a sinking feeling this was exactly the kind of place where Troy would register when he got engaged for real. She didn’t blame him for that based on what he wanted out of life.

  As they rode the escalator to the third floor, she glimpsed his reflection in the mirrors to her left.

  Dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, Troy looked like a successful businessman. He was gorgeous.

  Not her type of guy?

  What a joke.

  His desire to be wealthy didn’t cause her attraction to wane at all. Especially after he’d explained about growing up without money, without presents under the Christmas tree. He might be like Eric, but Troy had his own motivations behind his goals.

  Still, she shouldn’t have come tonight.

  Not only because of registering and how sick she felt taking the fake engagement farther, but also because of Troy. He haunted her thoughts and her dreams. Everything reminded her of him. No matter how hard she tried to stop thinking about him, she couldn’t. His first kiss that morning in the breakfast nook reminded her of coffee so much she’d been drinking herbal tea instead.

  Cassandra wet her dry lips.

  After years of pretending to be someone she wasn’t, she had finally let her true self come through. She had no regrets, other than she wished she’d done this sooner. Once her family stopped interfering, she would be happy. Nothing else was needed in her life, including a relationship. At least that was what she had believed. No, still believed.

  He stood below her on the escalator. One step. Too close, if she was being honest.

  Her forehead throbbed. That happened when she thought about Troy, but she wasn’t about to massage her temples in front of him. She clutched the black handrail instead.

  His worrying about her last night was sweet, but her family’s concern was more than enough for her to deal with right now. She didn’t want anyone else—especially a guy—telling her what she should be doing.

  When they reached the second floor, she stepped from the escalator. The china department was straight ahead. She moved to the side so Troy wouldn’t bump into her. He grabbed her hand.

  Fluttery sensations spread through her. Holding hands meant nothing. Just an act. Yet, even as she told herself that, her fingers wanted to lace with his.

  Get a grip. The sheepish gleam in his gaze was impossible to miss. “Always the perfect fiancé, aren’t you?”

  “I try.” He tried too hard, but not for her. This was all about her mom being here, too.

  Cassie lowered her gaze to their linked hands. Hers fit snugly in his, too snugly for her own good. She bit back a sigh.

  She pulled her hand away, but he wouldn’t let go. “You can let go. I don’t see my mother.”

  Troy kept holding Cassandra’s hand. “Your mom is here somewhere.”

  Temper spiraling, Cassandra took a breath and then another. Now wasn’t the time for an argument. If he wanted her mother to see them holding hands, so be it. “What time is it?”

  “Seven o’clock on the nose.”

  “My mother’s always on time. Maybe she went to the ladies’ room.”

  Cassandra looked around. A discreet Bridal Registry sign sat on a cherry Queen Anne writing desk. Pachelbel’s “Canon in D” played on speakers hidden in the ceiling. The place—elegant and refined—reeked of wealth.

  Troy tilted his head toward the desk. “Maybe we should check in.”

  A tall, model-thin woman met them halfway. Her stylish lime dress belonged in the pages of Vogue and looked fabulous against her darker skin. Her hair was braided in an intricate pattern. She was beautiful. “My name is Mercedes. May I help you?”

  “Hi. I’m Cassandra Daniels.” She forced a smile. “This is Troy McKnight, my, uh…”

  “Her fiancé.” Troy shook Mercedes’s hand. “We have an appointment.”

  “Oh, Ms. Daniels and Mr. McKnight.” Mercedes’s pearly smile spread across her face. “I’ve been expecting you. Please, do have a seat.”

  “My mother, Vanessa Daniels, is meeting us here.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Mercedes waved her hand, and a jasmine perfume scented the air. “Your mother can’t make it tonight. She said she would call or leave you a message.”

  Cassandra checked her phone and saw a text from her mom. She hadn’t turned up the volume on her phone after she’d left the bookstore so had missed the notification.

  Mom: Sorry, sweetie. I can’t get to the store tonight, but I know you’ll have fun with Troy. We can finish up another day.

  No way was Cassandra returning here. She unmuted her phone, tucked it in her bag, and then looked at Troy. “She messaged me. Something came up. I’m sorry I didn’t check sooner.”

  “This happens all the time,” Mercedes said without missing a beat. “Mothers like to be involved, but you know your tastes the best. We can find the perfect items to fit your lifestyle.”

  “Thank you, but we should reschedule.” Cassandra tried to sound disappointed. If she could push off registering until after the party, they’d never have to do this. “My mother wanted to be a part of this.”

  “I understand, but you’re both here now. Why don’t we get the preliminaries out of the way? You can get a feel for what’s available, see what you like, and things will go quicker the next time you’re here.” Mercedes sat behind the desk. “That way, you can discuss your favorites with your mother and get her input. I can email your mother a link to your registry before we publish it for guests.”

  And give her a full report on how she and Troy acted, too. Cassandra wouldn’t put that past her mom.

  Mercedes removed a file folder and a Mont Blanc pen from a desk drawer. “Let’s get started.”

  Following a quick lesson on how to use the electronic scanner to fill out their registry, Mercedes handed Troy the device. “Most grooms like to handle this part. Your list will be available online, so this takes away typos or human error.”

  Troy checked out the scanner like a kid with a new game controller. “Cool.”

  He would think so. Cassandra, however, wanted to leave. The tasteful displays of crystal, china, and hollowware might as well be displays of half-eaten brains and hearts. She’d hated doing this with Eric because he’d only wanted the top of the line for all their selections. It had felt disingenuous asking for expensive things she didn’t want, but being here with Troy under the guise of an engagement was worse somehow.

  Mercedes motioned them to follow her. “Why don’t we start by looking at the china patterns?”

  If they were doing this, they might as well go all in. Who knew what her mom had said to Mercedes. Cassandra brushed a stray lock off Troy’s forehead. “Is that all right with you, muffin?”

  “I go where you go, shortcake.” He drew her close to whisper in her ear. “Why are you being so…so fiancée-like?”


  “In case Mercedes is going to report to my mother,” Cassandra whispered. “Think you can handle it?”

  “I’ll try.”

  When he kissed her neck, her pulse hit overdrive. Maybe she should have worded her question differently. Could she handle it?

  “The china is over here, my two lovebirds,” Mercedes said.

  On the way, Troy pointed out an ivory plate with a black-and-navy patterned band and a gold rim. “What do you think of this, cupcake?”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Like you.”

  The words flowed too easily from his lips. Cassandra could almost believe he meant them. “The pattern might be too bold. We could grow tired of it, tiger.”

  “You’re absolutely right, kitten.”

  She picked up a plate with peach and blue flowers along the rim and in the center. “What about this?”

  “Nice and traditional.” Troy kissed her cheek, and Cassandra nearly dropped the expensive plate. “But the colors might not match our decorating scheme in a couple of years.”

  Cassandra set the plate down. “You’re so right, dumpling.”

  Mercedes beamed. “The two of you are adorable. I’ve seen couples who are only interested in picking out the most expensive or popular patterns. It’s obvious the two of you want to create a home that will last.”

  If only…

  Was that what Cassandra wanted—a home and family? Maybe once upon a time, but now?

  She clasped her hand in Troy’s and gazed into his eyes. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if she was acting this way for Mercedes’s sake or her own. “I’m lucky.”

  Troy caressed her hand with his thumb. “We’re lucky.”

  Standing among the exquisite china and crystal, Cassandra could almost believe they were a happily engaged couple. The feeling didn’t suck. She tried to focus, but the strains of Bach playing from hidden speakers caught her attention. The tune was one she could imagine being played as she walked down the aisle on her wedding day.

  Cassandra’s throat tightened. She’d known tonight would be a mistake, but she had no idea how big. Her mix of emotions was off-the-chart scary.