Table for Two (10 page)

She grasped the cord until it bit into her hand. "Drake, we need to get something clear."

"I agree. That's why I'm treating you to lunch." He gave her the name of a classy restaurant and told her the time.

"But what if I'm busy?" she objected.

"Of course you're busy. You'll be seeing me." He hung up.

She growled into the phone, then dialed Adriana's number. "You've got a date tomorrow with Drake." She gave the time and place then replaced the receiver and unplugged the phone, determined to escape the sorcerer's spell.

* * *

Early the next morning, Cassie went to the gym dressed in a colorful leotard, which made her feel as if two cantaloupes were strapped to her chest, and a long T-shirt to hide the fact.

She wasn't alone in the gym. There were a number of avid health addicts, displaying their beautiful bodies as if they expected a film crew to pop up and take photographs. She noticed one beautiful female body aptly displayed in black leggings, a thong, and a sports bra on the stair climber. She passed by the weight room to go into the aerobics class. People were already stretching in front of the large mirror on the main wall.

Cassie headed toward the back as always. It had taken her weeks to get the courage to join the class, afraid that she would stick out like a Twinkie in a box of ladyfingers. Fortunately, no one paid any attention to her, since they had their own weight issues to deal with. She made a face in the mirror (she hated exercise) and then began to stretch.

"Ah, she blesses us with her company," a pleasant masculine voice said. "I haven't seen you the last few classes."

She turned and smiled at Glen. "I've been busy." She had spent her time eating her way through writer's block and then trying a new diet.

"What's his name?" he asked with a knowing look.

"It's not a him, it's an it. My book."

"I see."

She stretched her hamstring. "I told you I'm not ready for a relationship."

"So you did." He smiled sheepishly. "I guess I'm still hopeful."

Before she could reply, the instructor spoke. "Okay, ladies and gentlemen, let's burn some fat!"

Cassie soon regretted missing the last few workouts. The complicated new steps made her feel out of breath faster than usual, but she congratulated herself for coming. It helped her to put everything into perspective. Drake's presence in her life was like a blimp on a screen—quickly seen and quickly forgotten... No, she was wrong. She would never forget him. But he was gone now.

She tried to think of ideas for her book, but the cheery voice of the instructor had her contemplating the benefits of homicide. Nobody's endorphins could make anyone this happy so early in the morning. She nearly collapsed with relief when it was over.

Cassie grabbed her towel and wiped the sweat that soaked her chest. She felt like a baked chicken.

"Today was a killer," Glen said, wiping his face with his T-shirt. Cassie glanced in appreciation at his firm stomach muscles.

"So that's why I felt light-headed," Cassie teased. "I must have died."

He laughed. "Perhaps."

She tossed her towel over her shoulder and headed for the exit.

"Are you free next Friday?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"There's a poetry reading at Baden's bookstore, and I thought perhaps we could go. James Sheffield will be there."

She loved the work of James Sheffield and going out with Glen was always pleasant. He would be a nice change to... "Sounds wonderful."

He playfully tugged on her towel. "Good. I'll see you then."

* * *

She felt like dancing back to her room in spite of her exhaustion. Finally, she was back to men she could handle. Thank goodness Glen was different from Drake. He was safe, humble, gentle—although Drake had also been gentle, but that wasn't the point. Glen had seen her gain weight after her divorce and struggle through aerobics. He knew the real her and liked her anyway. He didn't play games or offer pitiful stories, although at times when he talked about his ex-wife she was sure she heard the sound of violins in the background.

"It's about time!" Adriana said, pushing herself off the wall next to Cassie's apartment.

Cassie frowned at her and opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

"You know why I'm here. You're going to have lunch with Drake."

"Make yourself at home, I'm taking a shower." She went into the bathroom and shut the door. Adriana was not going to persuade her to go to lunch with Drake. She had taken all night and this morning to put Drake into perspective. She would not have a man occupying her thoughts as Timothy once had. She quickly showered, then sat on the couch next to Adriana, who was flipping through a magazine. She turned on the TV.

"Now, Cassie—"

"Have you eaten?" she asked as a commercial for pancakes popped on the screen.

Adriana sat forward, determined to win this argument. "Cassie, you're going to lunch."

Cassie shook her head, her lopsided ponytail coming undone. "No, I'm not." She flipped through the channels, amazed that she had so many stations and nothing to watch.

Adriana grabbed the remote and turned it off. "What are you afraid of?"

She glanced down at her jeans and T-shirt. Right now she looked like a before picture for a weight-loss plan. She turned to her friend, who looked fabulous in a yellow summer dress and dangling earrings that looked like flower baskets. What was she afraid of? She was afraid of being captured under the spell of a magnetic man who would soon grow bored of her. She was afraid that she was somehow already under his spell and that if she ever saw him again he would only succeed in deceiving and hurting her. "You wouldn't understand."

"I always understand," Adriana argued, settling into the couch. "Explain it."

Cassie glanced down and tugged on the hem of her shirt. "I vowed I would never be enthralled about a man ever again like I was with Timothy, and one night I came very close with Drake. It was like a magical dream and in away continues to be. But in the light of day, the illusion will be shattered."

"Forget about illusions." Adriana threw up her hands in frustration. "You need male companionship."

"I have Glen." Cassie glanced up. "We have a date actually."

"Glen!" Adriana fell back in disgust. "Brokenhearted Glen!"

"I wish you wouldn't call him that."

Adriana stared up at the ceiling and groaned. "Anyone can see that he is still in love with his ex-wife."

"No, he's just devastated by the divorce. He's a real nice guy and knows all about dating, weight loss, and dieting."

Adriana sent her a cool glance. "He sounds like the perfect girlfriend."

Cassie poked her friend in the ribs. "Hey, not every man has to have the inclination to have something pierced."

Adriana ignored the reference to her taste in bad boys. "You're going from one extreme to another."

"Not true."

"From arrogant to self-effacing."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting a man with humility, kindness, and vulnerability." She pointed to the carnation. "Look what he gave me."

"Not a good sign." Adriana sighed. "When's your date with Glen?"

"Next Friday."

"Fine. Then today is free." She pointed at Cassie, her eyes narrowing in determination. "You're going to go to lunch with Drake and that's final. I don't care if I have to drag you. Now let's get you ready."

* * *

Cassie dressed in a blue knit top and floral chiffon skirt. Adriana pulled her hair back and applied makeup. She begged Cassie to wear her contacts, but Cassie opted to wear her glasses so that Drake would realize the real her. After helping her get ready, Adriana left for an appointment, leaving Cassie to battle with her emotions. One date wouldn't be so bad, she thought. They would be cordial and then never see each other again. Besides, he was looking for a wife and she definitely was not on the market. She could update him on what he had missed from the last class, and then there would be closure.

She ran down the stairs too excited to wait for the elevator and stopped when a familiar figure moved from the entrance wall to greet her. He was tall, classically handsome with skin the color of rum and a smile just as intoxicating, dressed in khaki trousers and a red shirt.

She gripped the railing and stared at him. Her excitement crashed at her feet.

Chapter 5

A mixture of fear, awe, and resentment consumed her. Fear that he wouldn't leave her alone, awe that he had ever felt the need to marry her, and resentment that she cared.

"Timothy, what are you doing here?" She had meant to sound disapproving, but her question came out in a breathless rush.

He flashed a two-thousand-dollar smile. "You look pretty. Where are you going?"

Cassie let go of the railing and folded her arms. "You haven't answered my question."

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close. The motion was tender, but she remained stiff in his arms. "You smell good." He toyed with an earring. "Going on a date?"

She drew away from him, her resentment overcoming her fear. "That's none of your business."

He rested a foot on the step and straightened his cap. "Of course it's my business, you're my woman."

"Been sniffing glue again, I see."

"You always did have a wicked tongue." He touched her cheek; she stepped away. Nonplussed, he shrugged. "I know you're trying to make me jealous. That's all right. I know that women need to do that sometimes to feel special. I completely understand."

"I don't need to make you jealous to feel special. As a matter of fact, I don't even think about you."

He sniffed, unconvinced. "Yeah, right." He tugged on her shirt. "You know, this top is a little tight. Have you been gaining weight again? I bet you have." He pinched her cheek. "Just can't stay away from the sweets, can you?"

She glared at him, not wanting to say anything that would show how his words really bothered her. She steeled herself for the put-downs she knew would come.

He didn't disappoint her. He stepped back and measured her outfit and face with cold eyes. Eyes that used to turn her legs into hot butter, eyes she had thought reflected desire, but only showed possession. "Hmm, you really must like this guy. You're wearing glitter and eyeshadow." He folded his arms and leaned against the railing, a malicious grin crossing his face. "So how long do you think you can fool him before he figures out how you really are? That you can't pass a cheesecake without taking a taste or that you try and fail a new diet at least every three months? Does he know that you and your mother never speak because you’re a constant embarrassment to her?"

Cassie wanted to leave, but her legs wouldn't move. "That's not true."

"Oh, but it is, darling."

The word
darling
cut through her paralysis. She pushed past him, refusing to subject herself to his vicious tongue anymore. "I'm not listening to any of this." It was a lie of course. His words repeated in her mind like an echo.

"Fine, Cass," he said softy, mockingly. "But I know all about you and still want you. You can't say the same about him."

* * *

Cassie hurried to the metro, making her way through the crowded platform and squeezing onto the train, trying unsuccessfully to push Timothy's words from her thoughts. But they clung like sticky tape and continued to reverberate in her mind, covering her thoughts until they were all she could think of.

She pushed through the heavy glass doors of the restaurant and saw a woman devouring a twenty-four-dollar salad under the cool glow of the dining hall, the sound of bubbling water from the large shimmering waterfall on the distance filtered through the low hum of voices. The plush purple seats and turquoise carpeting spoke of quiet elegance and an enjoyable dining experience. Cassie saw Drake at a table look impatiently at his watch. A server came up to him and he waved her away in a quick, brusque manner.

She remembered the night he was dressed all in black as though a walking silhouette. Now, in its place, she saw an ardent, wealthy businessman who was entertaining himself with a funny woman he had accidentally crashed into. Their kiss two nights ago had been part of a fantasy she did not wish reality to tread on. She did not want to spend the afternoon trying to convince him why he thought he was attracted to her or giving him tips for his reunion. She didn't know what he imagined her to be, but she knew that she would only end up disappointing him.

"May I help you?" the maitre d' asked with eager attention.

"Oh, no. I was just leaving." She glanced in Drake's direction once more and silently thanked him for his attention that for a while had made her feel more alive than she had in months, then turned and left.

She returned home, tossed her bag on the couch, and slipped out of her shoes, half relieved and half disgusted with herself. She would not cry or feel sorry for herself, she thought, building an inner resolve. She had to accept life as it was. She would not worry about Drake. He was fine. He would realize that she wasn't coming, shrug, and eat a delicious meal. Perhaps he would even catch the eye of some sleek beauty sitting at the bar, use some skills he had learned from her class, and forget about her. She was used to being forgotten. Her mother had made a habit of it.