Table for Two (37 page)

He wrapped an arm around her and held her close. "I know."

"Give me time. I know I'll feel happier when I lose a few pounds."

He continued to hold her, saying nothing.

* * *

The road to happiness was paved with obstacles: exercise that still seemed torturous and weight that refused to budge. But slowly as the week passed it grew easier and she felt free to enjoy herself, to like who Cassie—Cassandra—was with her round face and rounded figure. Her clothes felt a bit looser, but it was her spirit that seemed to float. And for the first time in a long while she decided to go clothes shopping.

Adriana was as stiff as a mannequin when Cassie entered the shop. She had never ventured into Divine Notions because the thought of lingerie frightened her.

"Are you really here?" Adriana asked, amazed.

"I felt like shopping. I can't believe I came here." She glanced wearily at a mannequin wearing a black bra and garter belt.

Adriana came around the counter ready to dismiss any of her doubts. She grabbed Cassie’s arm and led her to a rack of garters. "You will not regret it."

"I may not, but my checkbook will."

"Think of this as an investment. Besides, I'll give you a discount."

Cassie was relieved the store had her sizes. She hated finding things she liked only to discover she couldn't fit them. She bought a black velvet robe with a matching silk and lace gown, two embroidered bras, and red panties.

Adriana handed her the purchases. "You are going to look fabulous. Drake won't be able to let you go."

"I hope so."

"So when's the wedding?"

"I'm not sure there will ever be one."

"Cassie, if you want a wedding, close the shop doors and you'll have a ring in no time."

Cassie laughed and waved good-bye, then stepped out into the cool sunlight.

* * *

He watched Cassie walk down the street with her purchases and his heart constricted. He so desperately wanted to say something to her it was painful, but the time wasn't right yet. Henson was still a problem and until that situation was handled, he couldn't let down his guard. Mr. Gianolo's poisoning had been a quiet threat they hadn't paid attention to. So he knew more had to happen before they listened.

* * *

Cassie had almost reached the metro when a black Lexus slid to a stop beside her.

"Cassie!"

She turned and saw Kevin gesturing to her from the backseat.

"There's no need to walk," he said, opening the door. "My driver will take you wherever you wish."

She got in the car and gave him the address.

Kevin studied her for a moment, then glanced at her bags. "You seem happier than when I last saw you. I always find that shopping puts women in a good mood."

"I would say my shopping is a result of happiness rather than the direct cause of it."

"I see." He dropped his voice to a mocking ominous tone. "The ex's revenge. There is no better way to vex an ex than to be happy."

"I can assure you that trying to irritate Timothy is not a source of happiness for me. Although I would agree that showing your ex you are happy without them is good revenge."

He said nothing for a few blocks, then, "So you're truly over him?"

"Yes, and I have been for a long time."

He read the label on the bag. "So you and the bully made up?"

"Yes."

"Am I looking at a June bride?"

"I don't think he's interested in marriage anymore. It's all right with me. I've done it before."

"If you want—"

"After all we've been through, I don't want something else to argue about."

"How do you know it's not something he wants?"

"He would have told me." The car stopped in front of her building. "Don't worry about me."

Kevin sighed. "Easier said than done."

She kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for everything." She stepped out.

* * *

Cassie gasped when she saw a bouquet of yellow roses lying in front of Drake's door.

She cautiously picked them up and saw her name typed on a card. Could Drake have sent them? She frowned. He had never given her flowers before. She went inside and placed them on the counter. They looked so harmless, why did they fill her with such dread?

"Did you send me flowers?" she asked when Drake arrived home.

"No, why?"

"Because these were delivered to me today." She held up the bouquet. "Perhaps Timothy sent them."

He took the roses and examined them. "No, he wouldn't risk his life to send you roses."

She looked at him, alarmed. "What are you talking about?"

He put the roses down, choosing not to explain his encounter with Timothy. "Who else do you think they might be from?"

She chewed her lower lip. "A number of people."

"A number of people who want to scare you?"

"How do you know they are meant to scare me?"

"Cassie, there's no signature or note. This person wants to remain anonymous. Why? They send them to you at your boyfriend's place. That means they know where you are. Something is not right. Has anything else happened that seemed odd?"

"Strange phone calls."

He took a deep breath, trying to cool his temper. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"It seemed harmless," she said, defensive.

"Well, now it's a concern." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a cigarette. "I should have listened to Mr. Gianolo more closely," he said, annoyed with himself.

"Why?"

He lit the cigarette and inhaled. "Because he was worried about one of your admirers. We have to figure out who sent these flowers."

Drake's commanding presence pushed aside her feelings of dread. He was so safe and comfortable. It seemed so silly to worry about flowers. "I've got a surprise for you."

"I'm not sure I like surprises."

"You'll like this one."

"Can't it wait until we..." His voice trailed off when she pulled out her nightgown.

She wrapped the soft silk around his neck. "I believe the answer is no."

* * *

Cedric glanced at the box in his hand as he waited near the front of the restaurant. He hadn't bought her something because he liked her, he reminded himself. It was the holidays and it seemed like a nice thing to do, that's all. She'd been nice to him and she wasn't so bad when she got off her pedestal every once in a while. She probably hadn't gotten him anything, not that he cared. He just had to make sure his gift didn't look like a real gift, just something he picked up. He was sure she would like it—a case to hold her earrings.

He watched Pamela as she prepared to head home. She wrapped herself in an enormous coat and tied a blue cashmere scarf around herself until only her eyes showed.

"Hey, Pamela," he called.

She blinked at him. "Yes?"

He shoved the gift in her hands. "I, uh, got this for you. Thought you might need it."

Her eyes brightened as she lowered her scarf. "You got me a gift?"

He shrugged. "It's nothing."

"My first gift of the season." She opened the wrapping. "A makeup holder, thank you."

Makeup holder?
"You're welcome," he said casually, his heart pounding with pleasure.

She smiled shyly. "Your gift's better than mine."

He felt his ears grow warm. "You got me something?"

"Yes." She pulled something from her backpack and handed him a knitted item. "It's a scarf," she said, saving him from guessing. "I notice that you never wear one and it's going to be cold."

"Not bad." He draped it on his shoulders and the two ends fell to the ground.

She grimaced. "It's kinda long."

"That's okay." He wrapped it twice around his neck.

She laughed. "You look like you're being strangled by a boa constrictor."

"Hey, be nice. My girl gave me this scarf."

She tilted her head to one side, her eyes twinkling. "You really see me as your girl?"

He shrugged again, trying to look cool. "Yeah, kinda."

She lowered her eyes. "Think we'll last?"

"Probably not."

"Good." She took a step closer and met his eyes. "Then there's no pressure."

"Yeah. No pressure." He bent his head and gently kissed her. It was nice and sweet, just like her. He took her backpack and rested an arm on her shoulder. "Come on, let me take you home."

Eric passed the new couple as they left the restaurant. He watched them for a while as they walked down the street, oblivious to the crowd that pushed past them. He shook his head, amused, and stepped inside. He found his brother ending a meeting with Lance.

"Love is in the air for the holidays," he announced, rubbing his fogged glasses on his sleeve.

Drake frowned. "Why do you say that? You met someone?"

He put his glasses back on. "I see a romance blooming between Cedric and Pamela."

Lance and Drake stared at him in disbelief. Drake said, "I urge you to get a new prescription."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, don't believe me. Although I am the reigning king of observation." He waited for Lance to leave, then asked, "Speaking of romance, when are you and Cassie getting married?"

Drake straightened the papers on the desk. "I haven't asked her yet."

"Why not? She said yes before."

"I'm waiting until after I meet her parents."

Eric rested his hands on the desk and leaned forward. "Why?"

He didn't meet his brother’s eyes. "Just because."

Eric glanced up at the ceiling, incredulous. "You're seeking their approval, aren't you? Like some old English gentleman, you're going to ask for their blessing."

He glanced up. "No."

"Then ask her to marry you now. Or are you afraid that if they don't approve of you, Cassie might not want you either?"

Drake impatiently tapped his pen against the desk. "You talk too much."

Eric's mouth quirked with a knowing grin. "You want to make sure you can measure up."

"Stop trying to figure me out."

"Why? It's fun." His smile widened. "You're in love with Cassie. Go ahead and deny it I know that's part of your nature, but it's true." He lowered his voice. "The thing is she loves you too and for women that's a big deal. Stop wearing the past like a dirty cloak." He sat down and crossed his legs at the ankles. "So we were poor and sometimes did shady things. So what?"

Drake frowned. "You did shady things. I cleaned up your mess."

Eric sat back and adjusted his glasses. "Let's not meddle with semantics. We survived and we're successful. That's all that matters. I loved my father, but it's no secret that you did a better job than he did. Jackie and I are fine now and it's time to be selfish. Travel, have some kids, and be happy. Live the American dream. That's why our parents brought us here."

* * *

Eric's words hung heavy in Drake's mind in the coming days. He pushed them away as the thoughts of a more pressing issue surfaced. A teenager who lived in his building had left the flowers for Cassie. He said a friend at school had slipped a note in his locker, asked him for a favor in exchange for a free pass. Unfortunately, Drake's search stalled after that. The teenager couldn't describe the friend and the flower shops had no information. His search for who had ordered the flowers was fruitless and that bothered him. It put him on extra alert. He barely noticed the joggers on the Mall, the sound of pebbles under his feet, or the feel of a warm December.

Cassie stopped walking and grabbed his hand. "Drake, look!"

Up in the sky toward the monument, which stood tall and white in the strawberry sky, a series of kites swayed in a dizzying dance.

She sighed happily. "I love kites."

Drake stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist; she leaned against him and they both watched the kites fly. He smiled to himself, amazed at how far they had come. A few weeks ago she would never have allowed him to hold her like this where everyone could see, and now it was the most natural thing in the world. He rested his chin on her head. She was his for good now and once he'd met her parents they would be married.

"Let's buy some pinwheels," she said.

"That's only for the summer."

"So is kite flying. Come on. I know of a place."

Cassie found a party store nearby and bought pinwheels that she later taped to the railing of his balcony. They watched them spin in the evening breeze before they went to bed.

* * *

He woke to the smell of home—a quick Caribbean breeze, the sway of palm trees, the hoarse sound of a bus rumbling past, the loud squeaky call of a vervain darting through the sky.

Drake opened his eyes, staring around his room. Where had those wayward thoughts come from? Was it his talk with Eric about his parents? No, couldn't be. He glanced beside him and saw that the space next to him was empty. He stood and opened the door, and again the smell of home captured him in a warm embrace. He heard the sizzling of fish and the clank of utensils against a pot.

"Sit down," Cassie told him as he entered the kitchen. "I'll be done in a—hey!" she cried as he bumped her aside with his hip.

"Is this ackee and saltfish? My mother used to make this for me when I was a boy." He bent over and inhaled the scent. His eyes trailed to another pan. "And callaloo and dumplings." He kissed her on the cheek. "Boonoonoonoos!"

She kissed her teeth. "Come, nuh, man, you haven't tasted it yet."

He grabbed some pineapple juice from the fridge. "Come on, let's eat."

They filled their plates and ate in the breakfast nook listening to the traffic below. He wanted to ask her to marry him, but his lips wouldn't open. He wanted her to be sure. Wanted to see how she'd respond if he was brusque with her mother or rude to her father. He'd try not to be but sometimes...

"You don't like it?" Cassie asked, worried.

"I wouldn't be eating it if I didn't like it."

"Then why the frown?"

He pushed food around on his plate. "Just thinking."

She placed her fork down and rested her arms on the table. "Are you ready to meet my parents?"

"Sure."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

His gaze grew intense, full of suspicion. "Don't you want me to meet them?"