Table for Two (34 page)

* * *

"Cassie," Adriana whispered urgently when the class broke up.

"Yes, I know," she said with a resigned sigh. "Drake's here."

"Don't you care?"

"Should I? He broke up with me. And now he's happy."

"How can you tell?" she demanded.

Cassie pushed papers into her bag. "A sixth sense of mine. I can feel my heart breaking."

Adriana drummed her fingers against her thigh. "Be serious."

"I am being serious. He's with his first love. Brenda Timmons the aerobics guru. They were kissing."

"So?"

If her friend didn't understand, she wasn't in the mood to enlighten her. "I really don't want to talk about this."

"You're unhappy."

"At least he's not. I want him to be happy."

"And I want you to be happy. He should be with you."

Cassie let her bag fall to the floor, annoyed. "Adriana, we can't have both. I have tried to reach him, but he ignores my calls and my notes. It is obvious he wants nothing to do with me. So will you please drop the subject?"

"You haven't done enough to give up yet."

Cassie sat and held her head in her hands, defeated. "What do you expect me to do? Run over hot coals proclaiming my love, lie naked on his windshield—no, that might scare him."

"You teach people to be bold and go after what they want, but you won't do the same."

Cassie's voice was muffled but firm. "I have succeeded in all that I've set out to do."

"Yes, driving away the man you love because you're too afraid to admit that you deserve him."

She lifted her head and stared, incredulous. "Where do you come up with this? Haven't you heard a word I've said? I've
tried
to get him back. He doesn't want me. Do we need a translator?"

"Just listen for a minute. The first day I met you, your mother came to pick you up. She wore this stunning black and white polka-dot dress and big round sunglasses like a movie star. When I asked you if that was your mother you said she was your aunt."

"Okay, so I was a liar."

"No, you were ashamed that you couldn't measure up. It was the same with Timothy, that's why you let him stray. You didn't expect him to treat you right."

"Well, that's a good argument for infidelity. Actually it coincides with his statement that he did it to save the marriage."

"You're not listening. You love Drake and you deserve him. He belongs to you. He's yours, don't let some other woman take him away."

Cassie stared at her for a moment "I'm waiting for a point."

"He doesn't believe you love him. So you have to prove it."

"If you don't get off my back I can prove how fast a friendship can end." She grabbed her bag and headed to the ladies' room. She saw Brenda coming out and stopped.

"What a surprise," Brenda said.

"I see you're here with Drake."

"Yes."

"I hope you have a good time."

"Don't worry, I know how to keep my men."

Cassie watched her go, anger shooting through her veins. Brenda might have Drake, but she'd make his complete surrender difficult.

* * *

Drake felt Brenda's fingers inching their way up his thigh as he drove home and he knew it wasn't going to work. Instead of feeling aroused he felt annoyed. He hadn't changed much, he still didn't like people enough to be civil longer than necessary. For all her intelligence and beauty he always found that he wished to be elsewhere. He would have to end it. It might be a relief to her; he wasn't the most exciting guy to date, hardly responding to any of her invitations. She might even be eager to end the evening.

She smiled at him and whispered, "I'm not wearing any panties."

Then again he'd never been able to read women well.

* * *

The chilly air was invigorating—perfect for his morning jog. He loved the smell of fall mornings, the color of the changing leaves, the sound of the city beginning to wake. A week had passed since he'd seen Cassie in the restaurant and he was doing fine. He was completely over her. Although at quiet unwanted moments he did miss her face, the way she would poke him when making a point, the delicate way she ate. He swore, fiercely trying to control his wayward mind.

"So what did you say?" Eric ordered, breaking into his thoughts. "You don't just stop a story at the point where a woman mentions she's not wearing panties."

"I said then she must be cold and turned up the heat."

Eric pushed up the glasses sliding down his nose. "Are you joking? That's the first thing that came to your mind?"

"No, not the first," he admitted. "But that's what I said."

Eric let out a breath. "I was worried about you for a minute. So you admit you still care for Cassie?"

"I'm over her."

They continued the last lap of their jog in silence. Drake looked at his building and groaned. Great, now he was hallucinating. Cassie was standing right in front of the glass doors with one of her determined looks.

Eric squinted. "Isn't that—"

"Yes."

He spun around. "Talk to you later."

"You don't have to—" But Eric had already jogged away.

Drake slowed his jog to a walk and headed for the door.

Cassie spoke up as he passed her. "I know that I messed up, but I'll do whatever it takes to get you back."

He stopped with his hand on the handle. "Why?"

She stared at him as though the answer was obvious. "Drake, I miss you. I love you."

She loved him. Why the hell did those words mean so much? "Today maybe." He ground his teeth, fighting the need to believe her, and opened the door. "I don't have time for this."

"So you and Brenda are together."

No.
"Yes."

"She may have you, but she'll never love you like I do."

He looked at her, his eyes sharp. "I don't want her to love me. I don't want you to love me. I want you to stop being ashamed of me. Ashamed of who I am or how I act. I want you to give a damn that I'm in your life. Brenda may not love me, but she's made me feel better than you ever did. Romantics like you use love as a weapon because you know how much guys like me—" He turned away.

"Drake, you have to let me explain."

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "I've told you that I've had enough of your explanations. I haven't returned your calls or responded to your notes. In case you haven't noticed, that's a hint that I don't want you in my life." Even as he said the words he hated them, hated how cold they sounded, but he wouldn't be hurt again. "I don't want to see you or hear from you. I want you to go away." He threw a hand in the air. "Disappear. Pretend that we never happened."

"I'm not ashamed of you." She grabbed the front of his shirt, desperate to make him understand despite how his words hurt her. "Give me another chance. I'll show you how much I love you. I'll prove it to you. No more words, just actions. I promise." She smiled weakly. "I haven't sung yet, so this show can't be over."

He seized her wrist, loosening her hold. Her butterscotch eyes were wide and soft and slowly melting into tears. For a moment he let his lips brush against her forehead, inhaled the sweet scent of her. He abruptly pulled away. "How can you love me, when you don't even like yourself?" He turned and went inside.

Cassie wrapped her scarf tighter and stared at the intimidating glass doors. He had every right not to want her. She didn't deserve another chance. He'd already given her one before and that was more than she'd given Timothy.

He was right. For a woman in love she'd done a poor job of showing it, her own insecurities shadowing her true feelings for him. She had introduced him as a good friend for the last time and ultimately pushed him away. As a gentle wind blew her hair, the magnitude of what she had lost hit her. She felt the soft stream of tears down her cheeks. Brushing them aside, she slowly headed down the road.

* * *

How could you love me when you don't even like yourself?
Those words echoed like a church bell in an empty cathedral over a week later. At first they made her sad, but she soon became furious. Who was he to judge her when he wore his background like broken armor? Soon her anger led to an eating binge. How dare he criticize her! He didn't love her. He only wanted what she could give him—the prestige of a good background and a few kids that she would raise while he set out on his next conquest. He'd done her a favor by leaving. He didn't even like her work. She grabbed her manuscript and threw it in the air, letting it scatter like large snowflakes.

She went to her closet and grabbed all her "hope" dresses and tossed them on the bed. He'd said she was beautiful, then why did he leave her to date one of the most fit women in all of America? Why had he pretended not to be interested, then suddenly started dating her? Perhaps they'd been seeing each other all along? It didn't matter. He was gone. And since he wanted her to like herself she'd show him just how fat and happy she could be. She didn't need anyone.

She snatched all her diet books off the shelf and her health and beauty magazines and dumped them in the trash bin. Then she seized the diet videos. Her eyes fell on Brenda's beautiful face and gorgeous figure. She had everything Cassie had ever wanted—a successful career, a beautiful body, and now even the man she loved. As quickly as her anger had come it fled and she crumbled to the floor in tears.

It was late afternoon when she was able to pull herself together. She cleared up the mess she'd made and briefly considered calling Timothy, thinking anything was better than feeling this alone, this unwanted. Fortunately, she quickly dismissed the idea, considering someone else.

* * *

"You look sensational," Kevin said as they sat in the sunroom where Cassie had convinced him to take her.

She shifted closer to him. "Thank you."

"So where's—"

She crossed her legs, brushing her thigh against his. "Gone. I told you he was in training."

"Right, I remember. I got the sense he was a lot more than that."

She took his drink and set it down. "Not anymore. I'm completely free." She kissed him.

He drew away. "Cassie, don't."

Heat filled her cheeks. "But I thought you wanted this."

"No, not—"

She jumped to her feet, her humiliation making her furious. "You're all alike. You, Timothy, Drake. You all say you want me, compliment me, give me gifts, but once you have me you couldn't care less. The novelty has worn off and you can move on to the woman who you've had your eye on all the time. I'm like a strange rite of passage. Date a big woman and then you've arrived."

Kevin grabbed her arms and turned her to face him. "That's not it. I do want you."

"You have me."

"No, not the way I want."

"I don't understand."

"That's the problem. Don't you know when a man's in love with you?"

Shock choked her words. "Not you. You have beautiful women all around you. You'll never settle down."

He grinned boyishly. "A man has to keep up his image. I'm shallow, vain, spoiled." His voice fell. "But to my surprise I have a heart as well and you walked right into it. No, don't feel sorry for me. I know you don't feel the same. You never will and... I've dealt with that. I've found it bad practice to start wanting things you can't have. So I'm over it. But I doubt Drake will recover as quickly. You have no idea how you effect men. It's attractive and a little scary."

"He doesn't love me. He thinks I'm ashamed of his background."

"Be patient, babe," he said, making them both smile. "He'll come around."

* * *

Stunned amazement followed Cassie home. Kevin had loved her? Suddenly her eyes became clear. She had been so self-absorbed she hadn't even seen how others felt. She had been so tied up with feeling bad about herself she'd never noticed anyone else. Drake was right, how could she care for anyone when she treated everyone as badly as she did herself? Unexpectedly, words began to fill her mind and she knew exactly what she needed to say in her book. That evening she typed until her back ached and her fingers started to cramp, but she didn't stop flooding the manuscript with the emotion Drake had once said it lacked. She did believe in love and that anyone could grab it and hold it. Everyone was the master of their own bright future.

* * *

Pamela flew into the kitchen and grabbed Cedric's arm. "Oh, my God! Kevin Jackson just walked in."

Cedric frowned. "Who's Kevin Jackson?"

"Only one of the richest, most handsome black men on the East Coast."

Cedric rubbed his chin. "He can't be that handsome with me living here."

Pamela ignored him and dragged him to the door. "Let's see what he orders."

"But I don't—"

She peeked around the corner and pointed. "There he is." They watched Drake approach the table. "I heard that he came in especially to speak to Mr. Henson. I wonder how he knows him."

"It's a woman," Cedric said.

"How do you know?"

He watched Drake ignore Kevin's outstretched hand as he sat. "Because they hate each other."

* * *

Neither of the men would have put his feelings in such broad terms, they would settle on mutual dislike.

"What do you want?" Drake asked.

Kevin smiled slightly. "We have a problem. You hurt a friend of mine."

Drake began to stand. "My relationship with Cassie has nothing to do with you."

Kevin’s smile hardened. "That night you stood up for her you made it an issue. If I had known what you were up to, I wouldn't have made it so easy for you to take her."

Drake sat back down. "What do you mean by that?"

"I have money, I was born with it. I went to good schools, eventually Harvard—it's expected. I’ve never had to struggle a day in my life. I've been to places you've never even heard of, could debate literature and recall mathematical equations you couldn't even hope to understand with your level of education. I knew Cassie before you and could offer her anything she'd ever wanted... and yet she chose you." His eyes turned to ice. "But guys like you are dangerous. You wear your past poverty like a badge of honor, always ready to take the offensive. Always ready to maintain that you're the only ones who've ever suffered. I've never had to scrape my knuckles on the bottom of a trash can or sleep out in the cold, but I've seen hell confined in the beauty of a marble mansion and felt pain echo off a crystal chandelier. Even shallow guys like me recognize true beauty. I'm giving you a second chance. But if you hurt her again, we'll see whose fist is kissed first."