Table for Two (25 page)

He shrugged, unaware of the mortal danger Cassie believed he had avoided. "The man has more passion than talent and in this world that's what counts. There are a number of brilliant starving artists and stupid millionaires."

She sniffed. "You've definitely got the stupid part right, but did you have to make him drunk?"

"It's not as if I poured the drinks down his throat."

"Adriana is going to think I made you embarrass her date." She sighed with regret. "I never liked him."

He squeezed her arm. "No, she's smart. She knows the truth."

Someone rested a hand on their shoulders. "Can a third party join this cozy twosome?" Adriana asked behind them.

Drake held out his arm and Adriana looped hers through his. Cassie teased them about looking like a couple, but their mutual glare quickly ended the attempt.

At least Drake liked her, Cassie thought. Timothy and Adriana had never gotten along. Of course, the fact that Timothy was a selfish bastard was a factor. He liked to keep Cassie to himself.

They walked down the sidewalk crowded with people who enjoyed and thrived in the night. The city lights bounced off the buildings in a burst of raucous colors. At Adriana's insistence, they stopped in a music store to look around. Adriana headed for alternative music, Cassie to light rock, and Drake to classical. They met in the world music section discussing the various attributes of different artists, then raced to capture a free headset. Cassie won, doing a little victory dance.

After Drake paid for their items, they headed to a restaurant to get something to eat. They were teasing each other about their bad taste in music when Kristin and Eric approached the table.

"Drake!" Kristin said loud enough for a few patrons to turn their heads. She wiggled toward the table in a purple tube dress. "It's so nice to see you laughing and now I know why." She glanced at Cassie, then Adriana. "Eric told me you were seeing someone and she's captivating. Malcolm was wrong. She isn't fat. God, he made her sound like you'd harpooned a whale. If only all woman could carry curves that well." She held her hand out to Adriana. "It's nice to meet you, Cassie."

For the real Cassie, the world stopped, allowing her to hit reality with a sickening thud. She had gone through the night feeling beautiful, forgetting what she looked like, how others perceived her. Now, like an unexpected slap, she knew the truth and it hurt so much that she quickly blinked back tears.

"You've made a mistake, Kristin," Eric gently scolded, sliding into a seat next to Cassie. "My name's Eric." He held out his hand, offering her a smile and serious brown eyes that were kind and understanding behind round, golden frames. His gaze was perceptive to her present feelings and so full of sympathy that she had to swallow in order not to burst into tears.

She decided to laugh instead and make light of the humiliating situation. She shook his hand. "Nice to meet you. My name is Shamu, but most people just call me Cassie."

Kristin looked devastated, all color leaving her pretty face. "I'm so sorry."

"Not as sorry as Malcolm will be," Drake promised.

Eric caught his eye, warning him not to lose his temper or embarrass Cassie by making a big deal out of it.

Kristin continued to stumble through an apology. "I didn't mean. I... I... mean you're pretty too."

Drake picked up his drink, saying nothing. And since both he and Adriana looked as if they wanted to skin Kristin, Cassie smiled at the woman. "Don't worry about it. I've been called worse, but I'll leave the names to your imagination. I'm a big woman. When people can spot you from a hundred miles away, you stop being shy about it."

"Yes, well, that's a good attitude to have. I—uh..."

Eric took some money out of his wallet and handed it to Kristin. "Why don't you treat yourself to something?"

Kristin eagerly took the money, knowing this was her best chance to escape. "Thanks. Nice to meet you." She wiggled back to the counter.

Cassie glanced at the quiet group. Drake was staring into his mug. Probably wishing he had a cigarette instead. Adriana was watching Kristin like a vengeful spouse studying "the other woman" and Eric was staring at Drake with a solemn look. She knew she had to be the one to clear the air. "So anyone in the mood for seafood? I can eat my weight in shrimp."

"Cut it out," Drake said, in no mood to entertain her humor.

Silence fell; tension hovered.

"So," Eric began, trying to think of how to remedy the situation. "How has your evening been?"

"We came from the Colossal," Adriana said, as willing as he was to change the subject.

Eric grimaced. "That bad, huh?"

"It was wonderful actually," she defended.

"Right," he said, doubtful. He took a small piece of cloth from his pocket and began to clean his glasses. "So which band did your boyfriend play in?"

Cassie bit her lip in order not to giggle at the stunned expression on Adriana's face. "Corrosion of Sanity," she replied coolly.

Eric returned his glasses to his face. "Aptly named, no doubt."

"Now wait a minute." She tapped a blue nail against the table. "They're great. Some people can't understand hard rock."

"Yes, the mutilation of good sound is hard to understand. At least you have a better taste in friends than in music."

"Now wait—"

"We can argue about that later. Right now I have a pretty woman to impress." He suddenly grabbed Cassie's hand with surprising familiarity and stood. "I want to show you something. Don't worry, Drake, I'll bring her right back." He led her to the checkout counter and looked up at the chalkboard. "Pretend to look at the menu."

She did.

"I'm Drake's brother," he explained.

"I know. He told me about you and your sister."

That revelation gave Eric pause for a moment; then a secret smile touched his mouth. "You're supposed to act surprised and say 'But you look nothing alike.'"

She looked at him, confused. "But you do look alike. You're both very good looking." To her surprise a tint of red touched his honey skin. She turned away to hide a smile.

"Yes, well. Anyway." He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"You didn't embarrass me." He flashed such a wicked grin, Cassie instantly knew he could be just as dangerous as his brother. "I just figured out something."

"What?"

"Why Drake's always such a lucky man." He changed the subject. "Since we didn't have much, it forced us to take value in the things that mattered, find beauty in things others might ignore." He scratched his cheek and pointed vaguely at the menu. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"You're saying beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

He shook his head. "No." He placed his hands behind him and rocked on his heels. "I'm saying we've seen ugly things and you're not one of them."

"I know I'm not ugly."

He turned to her. "But you don't know that you're beautiful."

She patted him on the shoulder. This one was more serious than Drake. "You don't need to worry about me. What your friend said didn't bother me. Besides, Drake and I are just friends."

His brows furrowed. "But I thought—"

"That we were something more?" she interrupted, not wanting him to name what they were. "No, that's not possible. We're from two different planets. I'm from Earth and only you know where he's from."

Like Drake, he didn't smile at her humor. Instead, he softly swore. "So you're not interested in him?"

"Of course I am. I enjoy his company, but we both know the type of woman he deserves."

Eric adjusted his glasses and swore again.

"You know, that's a bad habit of yours."

"Don't worry, I have plenty of others." He studied her for a moment. "So you're just friends, huh?"

She didn't know why he kept repeating the fact. "Yes. Close friends."

He swore with feeling.

She nudged him when an older woman stared at him in shock. "Stop that."

"Sorry. Come on, we'd better return before Drake decides to get us."

He deposited her in the seat, glanced at his brother as if he wanted to say something, and then his eyes fell on Adriana. "Who are you anyway?"

"Adriana."

"That's what I thought." He spun on his heel and left.

She looked at him speaking to Kristin. "What the hell did that mean?" Adriana grumbled to no one in particular.

"What did he have to show you?" Drake asked.

Cassie shrugged. "Just the pastry section."

He frowned, but said nothing. His eyes watched her.

"What a dreadful bore," Adriana muttered. "I don't know what he's doing out with that bimbo. I bet he reads the dictionary for fun. He's got intellectual written all over him."

"Sinful man," Cassie teased, feeling Drake's eyes on her, but trying to ignore them.

Drake abruptly stood. "Let's go home."

He offered to drive her home, but Cassie said she preferred to return with Adriana.

"You're trying to punish me for what Kristin said, aren't you?" he asked.

She quickly denied that, not wanting him to see her as shallow. "I just really need to work on my book. It's going nowhere. I've been distracted, happily of course. But now I have to get to work."

Drake nodded, accepting the explanation. "All right. I'll see you later."

For some odd reason, she felt as if they were saying good-bye.

Chapter 11

"What a load of crock," Adriana said, shutting the door to her spiffy blue Acura.

Cassie snapped her seat belt. "It's not."

"I know." She pointed at Cassie. "And you know that you would be at his place right now if it hadn't been for that woman."

"Her name is Kristin."

"I don't care what her name is." She checked her rearview mirror, then pulled into the street. "Something that wiggles that much should be kept in a box."

"What about her friend?"

Adriana shivered. "He should be dusted once a week. A dull, analytical, left-brain who has to analyze everything before it can be enjoyed. What did he mean by 'That's what I thought'?"

"He's just thinking aloud."

"He should try thinking quietly like the rest of us."

"Shame he's so good looking," she said, wondering if her friend had noticed.

"I'm afraid that the glare from his spectacles blocked my view."

"Oh, so you didn't notice his light brown eyes?"

"They were dark brown."

"Oh, right," Cassie said, trying to keep a straight face. "Must have been the glare."

Adriana laughed at herself. "All right, you caught me. I admit he's good looking, not as good looking as Drake of course, but that's all I'll admit. It's completely wasted anyway." She changed the subject. "How's the book?"

"Dead on arrival."

"You're still stuck?"

"Like a pig in a doggy door."

"That says something." But she didn't say what.

* * *

Cassie tried to believe that Kristin had nothing to do with her decision to come home, but the woman's words kept repeating in her mind—fat, fat, fat. As big as a whale. She'd probably dream about Drake with a harpoon in his hand. She was fat. That was the truth and that's how people would see her. She tried to use Eric's words to calm her stormy thoughts. Both he and Drake didn't see her that way and that was something she could cling to. But it didn't help. It was Drake's fault women saw her as competition and felt the need to tear her down. It happened with Timothy. She would have to make sure she didn't appear as a threat and that's how she would maintain their relationship until the reunion.

She suddenly felt chilled and shut the window. She secured the latch, then stared at it, confused. How had it opened? She was positive she had locked it before she left. She shrugged, dismissing any sinister thoughts. The building was old anyway and nothing had been touched. She secured the window with a stone and headed for the computer.

* * *

Two days later, Drake hadn't heard from Cassie and figured she was busy. So he found himself watching an action film with Eric. "Heard Lance was singing your praises because of Pamela," Eric said, staring at the TV.

"She's a good kid. Cassie instantly took to her."

Eric nodded, then began muttering prime numbers.

Drake tapped his leg. "You don't like her, do you?"

"I don't know Pamela."

"Cassie," he corrected.

"Sure I like her." He slouched lower in his seat. "She's fun."

"But there's a problem."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you start muttering prime numbers when you have something to say but won't." He sent Eric a smug look. "You're not the only one safe from Henson predictability."

Eric shifted in his chair. "I saw Malcolm the other day. He has a black eye."

"It wasn't me." He flexed his fingers. "I didn't have time to get to him."

"I know. He walked into my fist first."

Drake stared at him, shocked. "That's not your style."

"I know." He glanced at his swollen knuckles. "He said a few things that sort of set me off."