by Dawn Edwards
‘You need to take a course in ways to relax and enjoy life,’ he teased me.
‘I’m just fine, thank you very much.’ I pouted, taking my book back from him. ‘Besides, at this rate I’ll be able to graduate early. I know that’s a foreign concept to you and all…’ I said firmly.
‘I could have finished my masters in under a year, I’m just prolonging entering the real world until it’s absolutely necessary or until your dad tells me to.’ I hope he knew that was coming any day now.
It was our first Thursday family dinner of the summer on the Cape. Kathy prepared a BBQ meal with all the fixings, and Drew was invited to join us at my mom’s insistence.
‘Andrew,’ my Dad bellowed as Drew shyly walked into the dining room, having just come into the house from the back door. My dad was clearly happy to see him. ‘Delighted to have you at our table.’
It seemed I wasn’t the only one who had taken a liking to the guy, the only difference was my interest in him was just slightly different than my dad’s. I knew he would be around a lot, and I would have to get used to seeing him all the time. Not that it was a hardship, he was just so distracting, and I had a hard time keeping my mind out of the gutter. I should probably stop fantasizing about him when I was alone in bed at night.
We all sat around the table, eating our meals. I knew I was being uncharacteristically quiet. Dad and Drew spoke about the work going on, and Breton was paying attention, knowing he would be helping Drew out this summer. My dad volun-told him a few weeks ago, but it wasn’t until tonight, listening to all of Drew’s plans, that I fully realized just how busy Breton was going to be this summer.
It was clear that Drew was really passionate about what he did for a living, the way he spoke, his positive outlook, and the way he was trying to make everyone, especially me, smile or laugh. While I loved listening to him speak, it was hard for me to be happy at the moment, a simple smile was a hard task.
Even one for him.
Jumping in to be a part of the conversation, Breton asked about what he would be doing, when he’d be working and for how long. He gave me a look that indicated I was going to have to wait just a bit longer for some of my answers regarding Matt. I provided him a half-hearted smile, indicating I understood, but still couldn’t help but feel defeated.
I had lost my appetite, but the truth was, I hadn’t really eaten much over the past two weeks.
Deb had brought dessert, and after we all helped to clear the plates and my mother made tea and coffee, I reluctantly joined everyone in the downstairs family room, where my father and Breton already had the hockey game on. The Bruins were in the playoffs, so it went without saying, dessert would be eaten in there. My mother walked in with a tray of tea and coffee, and my aunt Deb followed her, carrying a plate of her famous cupcakes.
I was sat at one end of the sofa close to the TV, while Drew sat at the opposite end of the sofa across from me. When Deb placed the plate on the coffee table between us, I saw Drew smile as he looked at the plate, and then his eyes found mine. He gave me a sexy smile and winked at me.
Cupcake.
I smiled my first genuine smile in days, and for a moment, he made everything disappear.
He picked up the plate and leaned towards me. ‘Jessa, what’s your favorite?’
I looked at the plate. ‘I’ll take the red velvet one,’ I told him, taking a plate off the table and picking the one I wanted.
‘Good choice.’ He licked his lips, placing the plate back on the table and taking a seat.
‘Any double chocolate ones?’ Breton asked.
‘Not today,’ Deb said, passing her son a plate.
Breton took a chocolate cupcake with vanilla frosting and bits of Oreo in it. ‘Drew, you have to have one. Mom’s a baker, own’s the best bakery on the Cape.’
It was true, Deb’s Delights was famous, and she was super busy in the summertime, often selling out of everything before the end of the day. Breton adored his mom and always praised her baking skills.
‘Which one do you recommend?’ he asked no one in particular.
‘All of them,’ my dad answered, cutting a vanilla with strawberry cream frosting in half, putting one half on a plate for himself. He didn’t have a big sweet tooth, he only ever indulged in eating my aunt’s sweets.
Drew finally decided on a classic, vanilla with vanilla buttercream icing.
I couldn’t help but smirk. Vanilla.
Somehow, I didn’t think he was very vanilla.
I couldn’t help but hide the smirk. He dug his phone from his pocket, checking the time and sending a text before placing it on the table in front of him. My phone buzzed on the seat next to me. I looked to Drew as he took another bite and licked his lips.
I looked at my phone;
DREW: That smirk is killing me, I’d love to know what ur thinking.
I put my phone down without messaging him and watched the game until the next commercial. I poured myself a cup of tea, noticing Drew already had one.
I looked up to him, catching him looking at me. I raised my eyebrows quickly and returned to my seat.
Deb, Breton and Drew stayed for the entire game, with Breton and my father explaining the rules to him, telling him about players, stories from the season and inviting him to join them this weekend for the next home game, provided they won tonight. Drew really seemed to like that.
My mother and my aunt were chatting about the summer parties coming up, the charity events and involving me every so often, which I was thankful for because if not, I’d have been eye fucking Drew all night, squeezing my legs together, needing to release the pressure that was building.
He looked sexy in light grey fitted jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt that hugged him. At dinner, his hair was still wet, having just showered, but now that it had dried messily, it only added to the look.
I’d never cheated, never even been tempted to until I saw Drew Cameron at the reception desk of my father’s company a few weeks ago. The look of him did something to me then, and over the past few weeks, I hadn't been able to get him out of my mind. I knew things weren’t great with Matt and me, and there was no way I would be staying with him long-term; given that, I didn’t feel any remorse or guilt for my thoughts toward Drew. Ever since I found those documents my mind had been made up. I didn’t consider myself with Matt anymore, and I was free to do what I wanted.
Even still, that didn’t necessarily mean I could just openly start seeing anyone at the moment. I was pretty sure Matt wouldn’t hesitate to leak the material he was blackmailing me with. I had to be careful, but it wasn’t going to be hard. No one had been interested in dating me before Matt, I couldn’t see how that would have changed.
Besides, it was just innocent flirting with Drew, no lines were being crossed; it wasn’t like I stood a chance with him, he was entirely out of my league. He was a fun flirt who did wonders for my self-esteem and gave me plenty of material for when I was alone at night.
But it was more than just the way he gave those tingly feeling. As I got to know Drew, the more I discovered how kind and funny he was. Sure, the sex appeal was there in spades, but I’d like to think I wasn’t that shallow. What I couldn’t understand was why he was flirting with me, it wasn’t like I was anywhere near his level. Realistically, I knew nothing was ever going to come from the flirting, but he sure did provide my imagination with plenty of fuel.
During the intermission between the second and third period, Breton stood up. ‘Where’s your laptop?’ he asked me.
‘On my bed,’ I replied, and he left the room, only to return a few minutes later with my laptop already open, as he knew my password.
He had told my dad that he was just enhancing the security features of the internet and firewall for the house, which I knew he was doing. He was also securing and scrambling it, the same as he had done to our network at the Boston townhouse last week.
I had placed all my trust in him and was following his strict instructions not t
o discuss details over the phone or do internet searches, not until we knew who and what we were dealing with specifically.
At the end of the night, when Deb and Breton were getting ready to go, Breton pulled me aside to the back of the house for a private chat, out of hearing range of everyone else. ‘I hate to ask it of you, but can you just pretend to carry on with him, just until I know what it is I’m looking for or who I’m dealing with?’
‘I can’t keep it up forever.’
‘I know, but at least you are out here, farther away from him for most of the week.’
‘I’ve been pretending to love him for a while now, what’s a bit longer? But B, please hurry up, I want out, the bastard makes my skin crawl,’ I said in a low sad monotone voice. It was a loaded statement, I hadn’t ever come right out and said these words to anyone. Saying them out loud was freeing as if they were finally real.
‘Not much longer, trust me.’ He gave my shoulder a squeeze.
‘Okay.’ I sighed.
We both looked up to find Drew standing next to us, sure that he had overheard our brief exchange. Breton and I traded glances and Drew put his hands up. ‘I didn’t hear a thing,’ he commented, walking out the back door into the yard.
‘I don’t think he’s going to be a problem,’ Breton said to me.
Chapter 9
DREW
‘THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR JOINING US,’ Colleen Cahill told me with a warm soothing smile. I really couldn’t help but like the woman. We’d spent a fair bit of time together over the past month, working on the renovations for the office buildings and starting to think about their outdoor space at their Boston townhouse. That one was going to be tricky; I’d need more time to flesh out some ideas.
I had learned things from her, about design, business, how important family is and just how much she loves her family.
‘No, thank you, that meal was amazing, I haven't eaten like that...well, since that last time you invited me,’ I told them, thinking I should really apologize for all the food I had actually consumed. But I’d just never had steak cooked that well, and the potatoes were unreal. Even the salad, a mixed salad of raw veggies, was somehow mouth-watering. I should have been embarrassed by the amount I ate, but their nephew Breton ate just as much, if not more. So, I figured I was justified in a third plate.
‘Yes, well, there’s plenty more of that, I do expect you to be joining us on a regular basis,’ Mr. Cahill told me. With him I could see he was real, there was no bullshit with that man. He was the kind of guy you didn’t have to ask what he was thinking or where you stood with him, you knew. He was rich, powerful and didn’t have time to beat around the bush, nor did he have to. But he was real enough to understand all types of people and treated everyone equally unless given a reason not to. Him walking into my life has been the second-best thing ever to happen to me; only Ali, my best friend since childhood, came close.
I could tell the family dynamic was set. Mr. Cahill was obviously the head of the house, but only because his wife absolutely adored him and allowed him to take the lead. She wasn’t about to take any bit of his authority or masculinity out of his role; at home, socially or in the boardroom. She knew her place and was happy there, and he’d never given her a reason not to be. It was clear that he still loved her dearly, it showed in their interactions, their playfulness, looks, and light touches. It was also clear it wasn’t put on for a show. I wanted a love like that someday.
It was similar to how he looked at his daughter and even his nephew. The way he talked to them, joked with them and interacted with them. He loved them, cared for them and was genuinely interested in them, their lives, their feelings, and wellbeing.
From the first time Colleen had invited me to dinner a few weeks ago, I felt instantly welcomed at the table. Mr. Cahill was engaging, and Breton seemed down to earth. His outer appearance differed from the internal man who showed himself at the table. It was clear he was close to his aunt and uncle, but I wasn’t sure of how to interpret the dynamic between him and his cousin Jessa.
I wasn’t sure what was going on between the two, after their argument in the parking lot I witnessed early last week. They seemed to get over it quickly, and they seemed more like siblings than cousins. Perhaps that’s how their relationship was.
But the girl that sat across from me tonight at dinner seemed different from the few times I had interacted with her. She hadn’t once texted me since I had given her my number, but all week at work she looked sad, even when her best friend Zoe had come back to work mid-week.
I tried to talk to her, and she was pleasant, but her smile wasn’t sincere, it didn’t reach her eyes.
Once she seemed upbeat, yet apologetic, and the first time, bright and cheery. I was good at reading people, could often peg them within moments of meeting them, could see moods in people's eyes, voice, and behavior. That was why I could tell that tonight, Jessa was sad, scared and broken.
I wanted nothing more than to cheer her up, take the hurt away. I had a feeling I knew what, or rather who, had made her feel this way, and it angered me in a way that was foreign to me.
They certainly were not a shy family. Mr. Cahill laid into Breton in not-so-subtle terms about his school and was asking Jessa, apparently again, about her summer plans, giving her grief for not working more this summer.
‘Dad,’ she complained and looked to her mother for support, then back to her father. ‘Mom told you with the planning of the wedding, my summer class, and all the damn events she has RSVP'd me to, I cannot even think of working more this summer. I’m giving you two months already, what more do you want from me?’
My best friend Ali always spoke to his father with respect, especially in the presence of company; he would have never denied his father’s request for help—especially if it was for a business that provided him the life he’d had. I kept my head down, eating, as I was a bit uncomfortable being witness to the exchange between the family. I really thought she was different. But perhaps I had been jumping the gun, and she was just a regular society heiress—not that I’d ever known one personally. The stereotype was the same; entitled, privileged, with regard only for herself.
But I couldn’t believe that, or perhaps I didn’t want to believe it. I hardly knew this girl but for some reason, I had been building her a pedestal for her to sit upon over the past few weeks. Clearly there was more to the story, I hoped I would get the opportunity to know her better and discover what it was.
‘Surely you can spare a day or two a week for July and August,’ her father asked, forking a piece of steak. She rolled her eyes and played with her food some more. ‘James really loved your ideas from last summer, and they are exploring different ways to incorporate family and large events into the business.’
She put her fork down and looked at her father. ‘I’ll give a day or two IF I don’t have to do George’s job, I hate finance. If I can go back to marketing, I’ll agree.’ She gave him an ultimatum.
I appreciated that he was trying to instill a work ethic into his daughter. I would bet my ass that she had a very large trust fund and likely didn’t have to work if she didn’t want to, ever. I wasn't surprised she was giving him push back.
‘Okay,’ he conceded. ‘But if the new guy or girl needs help, or doesn’t work out, I will expect you to fill in, we are a family business.’
She sighed. ‘Yeah, just your run-of-the-mill little Ma and Pa shop,’ she smirked, then nodded at him. ‘Wednesdays after my class,’ she told him, poking a cherry tomato and staring at it like it was the last thing in the world she wanted to put into her mouth. ‘It’s only a few hours a week, but it’s all I have.’
‘Excellent.’ He smiled at her and winked. It was settled, and she knew it. ‘Now tell me about the course you are taking.’
He seemed like an exceptional man and father. It gnawed at me that she seemed vastly different from the person I flirted with less than two weeks ago. Then she was happy, smiling, welcoming. But all week whe
n I saw her at work, it was like she was jumpy, as if watching her back, literally. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it had something to do with Matt.
It shouldn’t bother me she was different. I didn't know her, she was my boss’s daughter. It’s what I kept trying to remind myself, but no matter what, she kept creeping back into my thoughts. It was like she was scared, but I wasn’t sure if her parents were picking up on it. However, I saw the way Breton kept looking at her as if trying to talk to her with his eyes. I knew there was friction that day in the car between her and Breton, but I couldn’t imagine that would be affecting her now, as they seemed to get over it as soon as it happened.
She had been polite to me every time I saw her but, being raised as she had been, she would have to be. But my flirty girl was gone. Right now, she was quiet, and I didn’t know if it was because she was shy, full of herself, had other things on her mind or just didn’t like having the help join her at dinner. Either way, she didn’t go out of her way to speak to me at all over dinner, unlike the rest of the family.
Even earlier today when I was trying to help her carry her bags in, she wasn’t welcoming like the other times I had seen her. It bothered me like it shouldn’t have. But I also didn’t feel that it was an intentional snub, that her thoughts were preoccupied by more pressing issues than social politeness; which she exhibited towards me pretty much every other time I’d been around her. I picked up on her mood as we passed the room next to hers. I knew someone in the family was missing, I’ve seen the pictures around the house of what I could only assume was her brother. I didn’t dare ask, I figured if I was meant to know, it would come up. I had a feeling that whatever it was that she was struggling with had to do with a combination of the missing family member and her fiancé.
I spent the entire hockey game stealing glances at her, trying not to let anyone catch me. She was in a good place near the TV, so I didn’t think I was being too obvious. She blushed the perfect shade of pink when her aunt brought in the tray of cupcakes.