Table for Two (9 page)

She glanced at her buffed nails. "At first I didn't know why a guy like that would need this class. Now I know."

The other nodded, adjusting her sweater. "A toad—"

"In prince clothing."

Cassie cringed. "I'm sorry."

The woman in the sweater shook her head. "It's not your fault. You've got your work cut out for you."

They both headed for the bar.

"Can I add my two cents?" a little voice asked behind her. Cassie turned and looked down into a cherub face surrounded by frizzy red hair.

"Certainly."

"I think he's obnoxious, arrogant, spiteful, and mean I told him about my great-uncle Walter's funeral up in New York and how my second cousin was found sleeping with the widow of Mr. James Masters and the family scandal that happened afterward but he didn't show one ounce of interest. He actually yawned, he didn't even care about the fact that my mother's third husband ran off with the deacon's wife from Second Story Baptist Church. Now I've always been told what a great storyteller I am and though my stories tend to run long sometimes, okay not just sometimes, but most times, but I'm working on it which is why I'm in your class, which I love by the way. I love your clothes and your confidence I have confidence it's just that sometimes I get carried away while in conversation I'm sure you know all about that since you did that talk about 'sharing the floor' I really am not as bad as I used to be did I ever tell you—"

"You have obviously been working hard," Cassie interrupted, afraid the woman was getting her second wind. "But I suggest you learn to breathe between sentences. Remind me tomorrow to give you more tips. I am sorry your partner was so unpleasant."

"Such a shame since he's so good looking but I've found that most good-looking men are jerks it's as if—"

"You're forgetting to breathe again." Cassie smiled kindly to soften the criticism. "We'll talk about it tomorrow." She turned and searched the restaurant for Drake. She found him at the bar, smiling for the first time that evening, at something the bartender said.

She came up behind him and heard him compliment the bartender on his selection of drinks. She tapped him on the shoulder. "I need to talk to you."

He spun around and looked at her, a gleam of interest shining in his compelling eyes. "All right."

She took a step back. He was like an eclipse. She had to remember not to look directly at him or suffer something infinitely worse than blindness.

"Is that the one?" she heard the bartender ask.

He nodded, his gaze not leaving her face. "Yep. This is the one. This is Cassie."

"Nice to meet you, Cassie."

She pulled her eyes from Drake's. "Oh... uh... thank you."

The bartender smiled, then attended another customer.

"What did you tell him about me?" Cassie asked as Drake led her to a table.

"Take a wild guess," he said as she slid into the booth.

She glared at him. "What is wrong with you?"

The warm liquid eyes turned to stone. "What do you mean by that?"

She hastily apologized. "That came out all wrong." She glanced around the restaurant as if she could find the right words floating around her. "What I mean is, why do you give the impression of being an obnoxious jerk when you're not?"

He rested his arms on the table. "Would you like to order something?"

"No. Drake, you haven't answered my question."

"I'm not sure if it's a question or an accusation."

"It's not an accusation. I know you're not a jerk."

He nodded grimly. "Thank you."

"I'm not criticizing you. I'm just trying to understand what went wrong. Your three partners complained about you."

He shrugged. "I have a few complaints myself."

"You have to be cordial, inviting."

"I was."

A woman in a green silk dress and high heels that could be used as ice picks approached the table and smiled at Drake. "Excuse me. Do you have the time?"

He glanced at the band on her wrist and frowned. "Why don't you check your watch and find out?"

The woman blushed, covering the watch with her other hand. "It's broken."

His frown deepened, confused. "You want it to do something besides tell time?"

"Uh, no. Uh... thank you."

Drake watched her leave. "What a strange woman. She has a fully functioning watch and asks me for the time."

He turned to Cassie, who had her head buried in her hands. She moaned.

He leaned forward. "Do you have a headache?"

"Yes. Don't worry about it," she said when he stood. "It will eventually go away."

He sat back, doubtful. "Are you sure?"

"No. Do you realize that you just humiliated that woman?"

"I just made her aware of her mistake."

She stared at him, exasperated. "She hadn't made a mistake. She was trying to flirt with you."

"Why would she be flirting with me when you're sitting right there?"

"Because I'm not a threat."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Cassie didn't wish to explain that most women didn't see her as competition. "Never mind, I just want to know why you didn't get along with your partners. I'm beginning to see why, but I still don't understand. You were fine with the bartender."

"That's because I didn't have to flirt."

"How come you can flirt with me and not other women?"

He dropped his gaze to the table. "The reason's simple."

"What is it?"

He looked up. "I want you."

"Don't say that," she ordered, heat touching her cheeks.

"Why not? I'm being honest. The other people didn't interest me."

"Drake, you could like them if you gave them the chance."

"Are you suggesting I act like I care when I don't?"

"I'm suggesting you act civil."

He reached across the table, grabbed her hand, and brought it to his lips. "How can a rogue act civil when what he desires is close enough to touch?"

She pulled her hand away. "This is a classic case of a student having a crush on a teacher."

"There's nothing classic about it. I wanted you even before I knew you were my teacher." His voice deepened as he slid next to her. "However, I like you as my teacher and I'm eager to learn."

"You just feel comfortable with me."

His finger trailed the sensuous line of her jaw. "I think you're beautiful."

Cassie turned away, dismissing his words. "Drake, do you really want to go to your reunion?"

His eyes lit up. "Would you like to go with me?"

"No. I'm only mentioning it because you're going to have to break out of your comfort zone and be friendly to people who bore you or don't interest you."

He rested an arm behind her head and sighed, resigned. "I know that."

"Then why don't you practice? That woman sitting near the stage has been eyeing you for a while. Why don't you go up to her and—"

"No."

His refusal was so swift and definite, Cassie sat back in her seat, bewildered. He must be more awkward than she thought.

"I know she looks intimidating because she's gorgeous, but—"

"Gorgeous? She looks like she had her last meal during the Irish potato famine."

Cassie poked him hard in the side. "Don't be rude."

"I know her type. You take them out to dinner and they order the most expensive meal, then proceed not to eat it."

"You don't know if she's like that."

"She hasn't even touched her grilled salmon with rice pilaf and spinach."

Cassie squinted at the woman's plate. "Are you sure that's spinach?"

"Yes, it's definitely spinach. Lightly garnished with strips of carrots and walnuts."

"I love sesame spinach."

"I should make it for you. Actually, I make an excellent spinach lasagna with—"

She held up her hand to stop him before her mouth began to water. "Wait a minute. We've gone completely off the subject."

"Hmm." He toyed with the soft hairs on the nape of her neck.

"Stop that."

His fingers stopped moving, but his hand stayed in place.

"Okay, so that woman doesn't interest you," she said. She searched the room, trying to ignore the warm feel of his hand. "How about—"

"How about I kiss you right now?"

"Drake," she scolded.

He turned and whispered in her ear, "The only woman I am interested in is sitting right beside me, and my only goal is to capture her attention. So why don't you teach me how to do that?" He flashed one wicked grin, then left.

***

At home, Cassie stepped out on her balcony to stare out at the sky. One more day. She only had one more day to deal with this painful temptation and then he would be gone forever and she would be free.

Mixed among the sound of cars and the hurried crowd below came a deep melancholy voice of a man proclaiming his love to the night sky. He had a booming voice that would do well on the stage and she found herself listening to him in spite of herself. She glanced up and saw another tenant leaning out on his balcony. His name was Glen Randall and for a time, he had hinted at wanting more than friendship, but she had subtly dissuaded him. He was an English teacher at a prestigious local high school. At times they went out together to fight the loneliness of being newly divorced.

After Glen completed his verse, Cassie shouted up to him, "You must read more prose, my good friend. Too much poetry will poison the mind to think only of despair."

"Night wanderer, be so kind as to leave me in peace."

"No. I must save you from yourself."

"You speak as one who has been made love to."

"Your imagination works overtime," she scoffed. "I haven't been made love to in a long time."

"Not with the body, but with the mind. You glow."

"I sincerely hope not. Nobody would get any sleep."

He chuckled softy. "You and I were meant for another time. A time of chivalry and romance. A time when a woman accepted the praise a man freely offered. Catch." He tossed down a purple carnation.

She smelled the flower and smiled up at him. "Thank you."

He mimed tipping his hat, then disappeared into his apartment.

Cassie walked inside, sniffed the flower once more, then stuck it in a little vase. One more day and he would be gone. With those comforting thoughts she went to bed.

Drake didn't come to the third seminar. Perhaps her words had finally sunk in and he felt embarrassed for trying to pursue her. She was sorry. She would have at least liked to say good-bye and give him some tips for his reunion. Maybe they could have been friends. She shook her head. Friends? Who was she fooling? He was a wizard with a plan and she'd made a narrow escape. She should be ecstatic; she wished she were.

"I can't believe he didn't show up," Adriana said in somber tones at the end of class.

"It was for the best," Cassie said, trying to be philosophical, although a part of her was upset.

Adriana blinked rapidly. "But you look so nice."

"I didn't dress up for him." She paused. "Are you crying?"

"I'm trying not to. I'm so disappointed it didn't work out. You two would have made the perfect pair."

"I don't see how that's possible." Cassie handed her a tissue, used to Adriana's sentimental tears. "Don't worry about it. I certainly won't."

"I was just so happy to see someone recognize how wonderful you are."

"I don't need a man for that."

The threat of tears subsided. Adriana tossed the tissue away. "That's not what I'm saying."

"He's probably embarrassed about yesterday. He made some bad impressions on people."

"I know. I set those women straight."

Cassie stared at her with a worried suspicion. "You didn't."

"Of course I did. I couldn't have them going around ruining his good name when all three had the social skills of kindergarteners. One acts as if she's got gold in her—"

"Adriana."

"The other is plain dull and that redhead never stops talking. I said that Drake was intelligent, handsome, and fun and it was their fault for not noticing."

She studied her friend a moment. "Are you sure you're not interested?"

"He's not my type." She tapped her chin. "Perhaps something happened. I know there's a reason he didn't come. You could look up his information in your registration and ask him why."

"No." Cassie picked up her bag and turned off the lights. "The chapter of Drake Henson is now closed."

Adriana looked disappointed but didn’t argue. "Fine. I'll call you later."

* * *

Cassie arrived home feeling eerily depressed despite congratulating herself for avoiding a close call. With a little more pressure he could easily have caught her in his trap. But now he was truly gone. She glanced at his big black umbrella in the corner and thought of the night they had shared a kiss in the rain. What a memory he would be. Oh, well, it was over now. She popped a bag of popcorn in the microwave then flopped down on the couch to watch TV. She began
The Attack of the Killer Tomatoes
, but her mind wandered to what Drake might have said about the benefits of tomatoes so she changed the channel. She was enjoying a soppy drama when the phone rang.

She absently reached for it. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't make the class, but I had business to take care of. Did you miss me?"

Cassie sat up; popcorn spilled everywhere. "Drake? How did you get my number?"

He hesitated. "Does it matter?"

"No." She glanced down at the mess. She sighed and began picking up the popcorn and putting it back in the bowl.
Relax... it's no big deal
, she warned herself. "Drake, don't feel guilty about not showing up. The last day was basically a review. Do you want a brief description of what was discussed?" She sat on the floor and held her breath.

"No, I called to ask you to lunch."

Cassie closed her eyes and wrapped the phone cord around her hand, divided between the impulsive need to say yes and the practical need to say no. She decided to tease him instead. "Dinner, lunch, barbecue. Can't you think of any activities that don't involve food?"

"Oh, sure, especially one in particular." He paused. "No, wait, that could involve food too."