“Troy’s correct about picking a pattern,” Mercedes said. “Choose one with colors you love and can grow old with.”
Troy released Cassandra’s hand and examined another plate. She was glad he’d let go, but a part of her wished he was still touching her.
As she looked at the various place settings, she pictured herself at Christmas. A big Douglas fir with brightly wrapped presents under the branches. Joy and laughter. A table overloaded with food and surrounded by family. Children. Troy. They would establish traditions that would carry over. And each year, Cassandra would set the table with the same china. A classic pattern. White or ivory. The image sharpened. She could smell the pine needles and vanilla.
Wait a minute.
Stop the madness.
This wasn’t real. No matter how good Troy was at playing her fiancé, they weren’t planning for their future. They would never have a decorating scheme. No traditions or children. It was all a lie.
A big fat lie.
Her heart pounded in her throat.
Agree to whatever he picks up next.
Troy showed her a white plate with a white lace motif and platinum band. “What about this?”
“Perfect.” And the pattern was perfect—to her dismay. If she were going to get married, she would select that pattern. But she wasn’t. She would continue using the multicolored plates she’d bought at an estate sale. Her ribs squeezed. “Eight place settings?”
“Twelve.” Troy gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I have a large family. We’ll never be able to use them at Thanksgiving and Christmas unless we have enough place settings for everyone. I can almost taste the turkey and homemade cranberry sauce.”
So could she, except…
This was getting more ridiculous by the second.
She didn’t know how to cook a turkey and cranberry sauce came in a can or from the caterer. Holiday dinners with his family would never happen. “But—”
“Twelve.”
“Okay, twelve place settings.” No sense arguing. Whatever gifts they received would be returned anyway.
“Is this for your formal place setting?” Mercedes asked.
“Yes.” Troy ran his fingertips along the edge of the plate.
“We don’t need informal dishes.” Cassandra tried to erase the image of a Battenberg lace tablecloth beneath the bone china. She had left that life behind. She wasn’t going back to it.
Not for Troy, not for anyone.
She hated that she had to keep reminding herself of that.
He smiled. “I agree. I want to use our china every day. No sense keeping the dishes in a hutch only for holidays. That way, it’ll remind us of tonight and how we chose the pattern together.”
I love you.
Oh, no. Cassandra realized she wasn’t falling for Troy. She’d fallen. Headfirst.
Love.
How could that have happened? He was so different from her, and she hadn’t known him long enough. One reason after another swirled in her mind.
Mercedes’s smile grew wider. “Mr. McKnight, I wish I could clone you.”
I wish you were really mine.
Cassandra’s muscles felt weak as if her body had gone numb. She searched for the nearest exit, but didn’t get past staring into Troy’s eyes.
Focus on registering.
Mercedes set the five-piece place setting on a forest green place mat. “Let’s find crystal and silverware to complete the setting.”
“What about this?” Troy held a plain goblet with a narrow stem. “I like this one.”
“Orrefors,” Mercedes said. “Would you care to look at the Waterford patterns also?”
Cassandra remembered her mother’s comment at the bridal salon in Carmel. “I’m not the Waterford type. The crystal Troy picked out is fine.”
Troy raised the glass as if making a toast. “If I tap on the glass, do I get a kiss?”
You can have anything you want.
Cassandra swallowed hard. “Do you deserve one?”
He tapped his finger on the glass. “Yes.”
She meant to only brush against his mouth, but the moment her lips touched his, she couldn’t stop herself from taking the kiss deeper.
Everything faded away. Everything except Troy.
The taste of him, the texture of him. She never wanted this moment to end.
Not real.
As she pulled away from Troy, he smiled. “If I’ll get kisses like that, I’m buying one of these glasses tonight. I could get used to that.”
Her too. But Cassandra couldn’t afford to. After the party, he would be out of her life. The way she wanted.
Or had wanted. Now…
“Would you like to see the silverware?” Mercedes asked.
“Yes.” Troy held Cassandra’s hand once again, but after kissing him, she needed distance.
She made a beeline to a display of silverware against the far wall. The sooner they made their selection, the sooner she could go home.
Troy followed her. “Look at this, honey.”
“It’s perfect,” she said, wanting to end this charade right now. She had so much on her mind, so much to figure out.
He stared at a dinner fork. “Perfect?”
Cassandra took a closer look. The silver fork resembled something from a fantasy novel with dragons on the handle and swirling arrows of gold forming the prongs. “Maybe not.”
Mercedes pointed to a set shining against the black velvet background. “What do you think of this?”
Two circular bands near the head of the fork were the only decoration. Plain, yet striking. “Yes, that will do.”
Mercedes put the silverware together with the rest of their choices. “Wonderful selections. Look how well the pieces work together.”
Troy placed his arm around Cassandra’s shoulder. “Doesn’t it look perfect, darling?”
You’re perfect. Cassandra’s stomach knotted. She forced herself not to lean into him. “Yes.”
Mercedes smiled. “I’ve seen hundreds of engaged couples, and I must say the two of you seem so happy together.”
Cassandra couldn’t talk—she couldn’t breathe.
Troy pulled her closer. That was the last thing she needed.
He smelled so mouthwateringly good. It wasn’t fair.
“Thank you, Mercedes.” He handed over the scanner.
“I’ll get this uploaded,” Mercedes said.
“You don’t need to send the information to my mother.” Cassandra couldn’t go through this again. Picking out a place setting for dinners that she and Troy would never share hurt her heart. “We’re happy with the selections, but we need to go.”
“No problem,” Mercedes said. “We can set up another appointment later to pick out serving pieces, housewares, and bedding. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
As Mercedes walked away, Troy smiled. “That wasn’t so hard.”
“No.” Pretending was too easy. Cassandra felt as if she were going to marry Troy. Despite his job, his being uptight, his goals, she wanted to be with Troy. He made her smile and feel good inside. When he was around, she felt at ease. He cared what happened to her. That sense of belonging had only increased since Carmel.
She loved him.
Her stomach churned and cartwheeled. Talk about a big mistake. How had she let this happen?
Troy touched the edge of her mouth. “Smile, please. You look like you lost your best friend.”
She forced her lips to curve upward. Whoever said frowning took more muscles than smiling was a fool.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Wrong? Everything was wrong.
She was an idiot.
Loving Troy when she shouldn’t. First, she barely knew him. Second, he defined success by the amount of money, power, and prestige he could achieve. Third, his priorities were a hundred and eighty degrees different from hers. Beyond the physical attraction and chemistry, they had nothing in common.
He was the wrong man f
or her.
You’ll make someone a great wife.
Someone, not him. He wanted a different kind of woman to marry. A woman not like her.
Just. Like. Eric.
A chill traveled the length of her spine.
She shivered.
So why was she feeling this way? And how did she make it stop?
Getting away from Troy was the only solution. Getting away now. Staying away forever. “I want to cancel the engagement party.”
His eyes widened. “What?”
As her gaze met his, Cassandra’s resistance melted. His thick-lashed blue eyes should be on the FBI list of deadly weapons. They were to her. She couldn’t look at him and say no.
But she had no choice.
Stay strong.
Cassandra glanced at the marble-tiled floor instead. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go through with the party.”
He grabbed hold of her hand before she could step onto the escalator. “You’re nervous.”
“Yes.” Except nerves were only a part of this. The future she’d envisioned, the one she wanted, was changing because of the man standing with her, but it was a futile future, something she’d never have with Troy. “I don’t want to go to the engagement party.”
He pulled her toward the dress department. “Want to buy new outfits to wear?”
As if that would solve anything. “Don’t trust me to pick out my own clothes?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You wouldn’t complain if I wore a little black dress with a strand of pearls.”
“I didn’t say that, either, but would that be so bad?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded harsh and loud and so unlike her. “That’s not who I am.”
“Not now, but once—”
“In the past, yes.” Her heart ached because she had a feeling he could never love her as she was now. “But I don’t want to go back to that. Not for my family or anyone.”
Especially you.
Please don’t ask me to do that.
“It’s one night.”
One night for her to once again pretend to be something that she wasn’t. Not just his fiancée, but the career-asset future spouse. Dressing and acting the part would only prolong the inevitable—saying goodbye. Troy didn’t want someone like her.
She’d known that but had ignored the bursts of reality. She could no longer deny how this was going to end. “You were supposed to be my fiancé for one night.”
“Cassie—”
“The engagement party is one more lie piled on a stack of the ones we’ve told. Pretending has gone too far. It has to stop.”
Lines creased his forehead. As his brows drew together, his gaze flitted around, never focusing on one thing. That was Troy’s worried look. Only she realized he wasn’t concerned about her. He was concerned about how this would affect him and his future. Her shoulders drooped. She wanted to go home.
“We need to talk.” Troy motioned to the nearby salesclerks staring at them and then took her hand. “Someplace more private.”
12
Heart pounding, Troy led Cassie out of the store and to an empty park bench in Union Square where they sat. So much was riding on the engagement party. Somehow, he had to get her to agree to attend. “You said you would go to the party, but now you don’t want to go through with it. I don’t understand why you’re changing your mind.”
He really didn’t.
She didn’t say anything.
He’d try again. “What’s the big deal about dressing up and pretending to be engaged for one more night? We’ve survived a dinner out and the weekend at your parents’ house. This is only a few more hours.”
Cassie started to speak, but then stopped herself.
Be patient. Pushing her wouldn’t work, so Troy remained quiet.
A crowded cable car headed down Powell Street. The driver clanged the bell, and passengers waved.
He waited for her to answer.
A gust of wind made Cassie shiver.
Troy put his arm around her.
“Canceling the party would be for the best,” she said finally.
Her vague answer told him nothing. “Could you please be more specific?”
She took a deep breath. And another. “Registering tonight made me realize we’ve taken this pretend engagement too far. I want everything to stop now, before I…”
“Before you what?”
She hesitated. “Before we make the situation worse.”
“But the party—”
“Means a lot to you. I know, Troy,” she said with sincerity. “I wish I could help you.”
“You can.” Troy sensed her uncertainty, but he wanted to know what was going on inside her beautiful head. “Be my fiancée.”
“It’s not that simple,” Cassie admitted. “The party will be a total nightmare, and Emily is going to pull something.”
“Is she the reason you want to cancel the party?”
“Partly. We’ve always had…problems.” Cassie tapped her foot against the pavement. The syncopated rhythm matched his heart rate. “Remember when I told you my parents put stars on my ceiling?”
Troy nodded. He remembered well. Wishing on a plastic star, the closeness of that night. The next morning, he’d thought the feeling would disappear in the harsh reality of daytime, but it hadn’t. “Your mother was worried about you getting cold.”
“That wasn’t the real reason,” Cassie said. “They installed the stars because they were worried about kidnappers.”
Troy tensed. “Kidnappers?”
“Being rich isn’t all fun and games. One night, when I was fourteen, I’d gone to the beach to stargaze. It was my routine. Someone figured that out and tried to take me.”
The thought of anything happening to Cassie made his gut tighten. Troy held her closer. He didn’t want to let go of her.
She pulled away. “Would you mind if we went to the truck? It’s getting cold.”
Troy wanted to keep holding her, but he didn’t want her to catch a chill. “Let’s go.”
They headed toward the parking garage.
“The only reason the kidnapping attempt failed is my father had a bodyguard following me,” she explained. “Emily and I had bodyguards, but we didn’t know it. He’d hired a security team after a few threats had been made. He hadn’t told us about those, either.”
Cassie licked her lips. “After that night, things got pretty bad. I was the rebellious daughter. The one who didn’t follow the rules. My parents didn’t blame me, at least not to my face, but the kidnapping attempt haunted them. I felt what almost happened was my fault and that I owed them for making sure nothing like that happened again, so I tried to be everything they wanted me to be.”
“And?”
“Doing everything I was supposed to do made them happy. Emily, however, got angry. She was no longer the only perfect daughter and hated that. She accused me of setting up the kidnapping attempt so I’d get more attention than she would.”
“Sibling rivalry?”
“To the extreme. I thought the competitiveness would disappear when we got older. It didn’t. A few years ago, I realized I wasn’t happy with the person I’d become. I’d lost the real me, so I changed my life. Goodbye perfect daughter, hello black sheep of the family.” Cassie pressed the crosswalk button. “I thought that would solve my problems with Emily. It did to a point. Until Eric.”
As they crossed the street, Troy held Cassie’s hand. He didn’t know what else to do, but the way she trembled told him she needed support.
“Three weeks before Eric and I were to be married, I found him.”
Troy didn’t understand. “Found him?”
“In bed, my bed, with Emily.”
In her own bed. Troy swore.
How could Emily do that to her sister, her twin sister? And Eric, the so-called fiancé. Inexcusable.
No wonder Cassie didn’t want to date anyone. Wainwright had ripped her heart off her sleeve and displ
ayed it like a trophy.
Troy wanted to shove his fist down Eric’s throat. “I’m sorry. I—”
“I wasn’t spying or anything like that,” she said as they entered the parking garage. “I almost wish I had been, but I had no idea what was going on between them. That made me feel so foolish and stupid. The signs were there, but I didn’t see them. I didn’t want to see them.”
Troy kissed the top of her hand. “You don’t have to tell me this.”
“I want to so you’ll understand.” She squeezed his hand, the simple gesture touching his heart. “That morning, I’d forgotten some paperwork in the living room. After Moe arrived at the bookstore, I ran home. I was about to leave when I heard laughter coming from the bedroom. I almost walked into the room when I saw them, but my feet wouldn’t move. I was so shocked I stood frozen. I couldn’t even talk. Eric told Emily he would dump me and marry her. He admitted he never loved me and couldn’t see me fitting into the life he wanted. I ran out of the apartment before they saw me.”
The ultimate betrayal from her fiancé and her twin sister. “You never confronted them?”
“No. They have no idea I was there or knew what was going on.” Cassie’s lower lip trembled. “I broke up with Eric that night. I moved out of the apartment the next day and donated the bed to a women’s shelter.”
“I thought the two of you decided to break up.”
“That’s what everyone thinks. Eric told my dad and everyone else that it was a mutual decision so he could have a chance with my sister. They waited three months before announcing their engagement. I guess they didn’t want to flaunt their relationship in my face.”
Troy hugged Cassie. She would never be any man’s doormat. He respected that. Her. “Three months isn’t a long time.”
“It was long enough for them,” she said without a trace of bitterness or regret. “I’ve gotten over Eric. I would have never been happy if I married him. He was more interested in working with my father than loving me. And I never loved him the way I…”
Cassie bit her lip.
“Are you okay?” Troy asked.
She nodded. “What Emily did hurt most of all. We’ve always been competitive, but I felt so betrayed. We shared my mother’s womb for nine months. You’d think that would count for something.”
Vote Then Read: Volume II Page 300