Read Love With A Stranger Online

Authors: Janelle Taylor

Love With A Stranger (19 page)

“How can a letter from somebody who fires you be helpful?”

Cass heard the anger and hatred in the woman’s voice. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out, Inez, but it’s for the best. I’ll only put what a good housekeeper you are in the letter, nothing about our personality conflict.”

“I don’t need your help or pity so don’t waste your time writing any letter! I wouldn’t come back to work for you if you begged me on your knees!”

Cass held the receiver away from her ear and gaped at it for a moment after Inez slammed hers down on its base. “You miserable witch!” she muttered, “Good riddance. Mercy, it’s going to be wonderful not having to deal with you!”

Cass stood before a full-length mirror in her bathroom and wondered if she was overdressed. She didn’t want to appear as if she were trying to be glamorous and seductive, not to Jason nor to anyone who might see them out together tonight and and get the wrong impression of her. She eyed the evening suit in pale-gold lace over a darker shade of fabric in that color. It had a scoop-neck top, four ornate buttons down the front, dark-gold satin edging around the neck and down the front, sheer sleeves that halted above elbow, and scalloped hems on
its skirt and top. On her feet were pale gold T-strap pumps, and her hose had a hint of gold thread in them. She wore onekarat diamond studs in her earlobes, a diamond tennis bracelet, and a gold watch with a bracelet-style band.

Her freshly shampooed hair streamed over her shoulders in waves from large hot curlers, its deep brown hue revealing golden highlights from many recent walks on the beach. Her makeup had been applied with a light hand, as had the Passion perfume, her favorite scent. Her skin was smooth and fragrant from an application of body lotion after her bath. She was ready to greet Jason when he arrived.

You’re going to the Cloister, Cass, so you aren’t overdressed or overgroomed, she assured herself. Relax and have fun tonight. You deserve it. Just behave yourself around Jason. Take a deep breath and remember you’re a lady.
No, remember you’re a recent widow and conduct yourself as one or the locals will think badly of you.

Cass went to the front door. “Right on time, Doctor; you’re just as punctual socially as you are at your office.”

“Thanks, I don’t like to keep people waiting; their time is just as valuable as mine is. You look absolutely stunning,” he murmured as his blue gaze walked over her from shiny head to gold-clad feet. Blazes, just looking at her aroused him like crazy!

“You look very nice yourself,” she said as she eyed what she was certain was an Armani suit in navy with a tiny white pinstripe. “Would you like to come inside for a minute or do we need to leave immediately?”

“We need to go soon, but I did bring you a gift I can put inside. It’s heavy, so I’ll carry it inside for you.”

Cass followed Jason to the kitchen where he set the box on the counter. She watched him open one end and withdraw a fifteen-inch-high sculpture on a six-inch base. As she gazed at the two verdi-tinted bronze hands with fingers touching and
pointing upward, she realized one was male and the other was female.

“It’s called
‘Cathedral’
by Rodin. This one was put out by Austin. I got it at a local art gallery today. You said you were redecorating, so I hoped this would represent a gift of our friendship.”

Friendship? It’s so romantic, so sensual
…She wondered if she should accept it. Yet, how could she refuse? The important questions were,
What is Jason’s motive and what does the gift truly represent?

Chapter Eleven

“It’s beautiful, Jason, and I love it. You’re such a kind and thoughtful person. I’m lucky to have you as a friend and doctor. Thank you.”

I’m the lucky one, and you’re what’s beautiful in this room. One day soon, I hope that our fingers will touch.
“You’re welcome, Cass. When I saw this piece, I immediately thought about you and had to buy it. You can decide where to place it later because we need to get going; we don’t want to lose our reservation.”

Cass was touched by his generous gesture. The fact that the sculpture had reminded him of her was a thrilling thought that sent tingles of pleasure over her. To prevent staring at him, surely with lust in her gaze, she smiled and said, “You’re right, and I’m ready to leave.” She retrieved her evening purse from the counter, glanced at the gift again, warmed in delight, and left the house with him after setting the alarm system.

They remained silent while en route, but each was thinking about the other and wondering where their relationship was going to take them. Both knew where they wanted it to go, but
neither wanted to move too fast. It felt strange but wonderful to be alone with each other; yet, neither knew how to behave or what to say under these unfamiliar circumstances.

At the Cloister Resort located not far from her house, Jason parked his BMW across the street from the Spanish-style creamcolored stucco structure. The complex with its numerous matching structures, down to the red-tiled roof on all—hotel, villas, cottages, conference facitilty—was enormous and offered its guests a myriad of amenities and entertainments. As they crossed the street and strolled along one of the many rambling walkways toward the covered entrance, both noticed the shady and well-manicured grounds with an abundance of sprawling and moss-bearded live oaks, pollen-ladened pines, tall and short palms, and beds with blooming azaleas and assorted flowers. They passed green lampposts positioned to illuminate the lovely area at nighttime, and wooden benches for resting and socializing. At the end of the main drive beyond them, foot high scrubs spelled out
Sea Island.

The front entrance overlooked a private marina on the Blackbank River, Rainbow and St. Simons islands, the bridge connecting them, the tidal marshland across the water, and an American flag that was flapping in the breeze. The setting was lush and peaceful, semi-tropical in appearance and climate.

A doorman smiled and greeted them before they walked up several steps into a lovely lobby that featured an elegant parlor to the left with a fireplace, many cozy sitting areas, and clerestory windows. As they strolled down a long hallway, they glanced at exclusive and pricey shops on both sides. They went down a few steps to where the maitre d’ greeted them, spoke with Jason, and checked his guest list. Beyond their position and along a large tiled walkway that separated carpeted eating areas was another huge fireplace. Decorative columns rose from floor to high ceilings where dimly lit chandeliers were suspended, creating a cozy ambiance.

The maitre d’ guided them into the main dining room where
well-dressed couples chatted and laughed in muffled voices and music from a nearby piano and violin could be heard. Other couples could dance in the adjoining area where the orchestra played, but neither had any intention of making that romantic suggestion. Along one wall were arch-shaped windows with fake outdoor scenes, complete with plants and trees and focal lights, which created relaxing and picturesque views.

The maitre d’ seated Cass while Jason took his place at a table that was covered by a linen cloth in snowy white. Fresh flowers and a candle sat atop it, as did the china, crystal, and silverware that were arranged in a formal manner.

It was a place for elegant and leisurely dining. She was glad she had worn the gold evening suit because it was perfect for this setting, and it appeared to win Jason’s approval.

The waitress delivered a small tray of relishes with celery, carrots, Jicama, and olives, and a basket of freshly baked breads. She took their drink order—Chivas Regal scotch for him and a champagne cocktail for her—and handed them menus.

After they made their selections and as they nibbled on the relishes and bread and sipped their drinks, Jason told her the history of the Cloister, which Cass had learned about on previous trips but didn’t halt him or reveal her knowledge because listening to him was too enjoyable.

“In 1928, Howard Coffin and William Jones carved out one of the most fabled year-round resorts on this island. Guests from around the world come here to rest and play in luxurious style. While the hotel was being built, the first guests were lodged in a three-story houseboat at the yacht club. The architect, Addison Mizner, used the Spanish design he’d made popular at Palm Beach. The grounds are some of the most beautiful and well-landscaped in the world. Things were quiet and slow until the causeway between Brunswick and St. Simons was opened in ’24; then the boom came with tourists and residents. As you already know, not all of the home owners are permanent residents.”

She nodded, as her nearest neighbors fit into that category, and perhaps that was one of the reasons why she knew so few people there.

“In the early days, it tried to and did attract the rich and famous who wanted privacy and an opulent setting where they could be pampered; that hasn’t changed. Even Her Majesty Queen Juliana and her consort have stayed here, and presidents and movie stars and prominent citizens. The playwright Eugene O’Neill wrote
Ah, Wilderness
here. I think the reason it’s stayed so popular is because of the staff; everybody who works here is friendly, gracious, and hospitable. If you want to know more, I have a copy of Harold Martin’s book
This Happy Isle
I’ll loan you.”

“I’d love to read it; this place is fascinating.” Cass didn’t continue when the waitress arrived to take their orders for the six-course meal.

Afterward, the wine steward came to speak with them, and Jason chose a 1989 German Riesling Spatlese, Piesporter Goldtropfchen to complement their seafood selections for dinner.

Jason only told her a few more facts about the resort’s history before the waitress returned with citrus and avocado with seagrape dressing for her and local shrimp cocktail on ice for him.

As they ate their appetizers, Jason amused Cass with “The Legend of Spanish Moss.” It was the story of a Spanish villain named Gorez Goz who had a thick and long gray beard and who fell in love with a local Indian maiden and lavished her with gifts. But the girl was terrified of the man with hideous hair on his face, as her race had none. She escaped his pursuit and climbed a tree to conceal herself after she became too tired to run farther. The villain discovered her hiding place and tried to scale the gigantic live oak to capture her, but his beard became entangled on the branches and he perished there, unable to free himself, leaving behind reminders of his gray beard and thwarted love.

Jason chuckled and said, “Most tourists don’t realize Spanish
moss is a favorite residence for chiggers when they snag some to take home with them; the last itch they wind up scratching is one for romance.”

Cass laughed and concurred, “Being from the country, I recall those nasty little pests only too well. Mother used to dot bites with turpentine that burned like fire and almost left scars.”

“Ouch,” Jason said with a comical grimace.

“You’re right; that’s why I usually didn’t tell her I had sat down in the wrong place, or I wouldn’t be sitting down comfortably for at least a week.”

As a chuckling Jason was squirting a net-covered lemon on a shrimp, he envisioned her lying naked on a bed with him tending her irritated spots with medicine on a cotton ball. He imagined the sight and feel of her body beneath his adoring gaze and gentle touch. When he felt his penis growing thick and hard, he was thankful he was seated with a tablecloth concealing his excited state, and he sought a distraction to cool the result of his flaming desire.

“Since I’ve been doing most of the talking so far tonight, it’s your turn to take over.” Jason coaxed. “Tell me about your work back in Augusta.”

Finished with her appetizer and while he ate his, Cass began. “I started off as a secretary and worked my way up to the boss’s administrative assistant after I received my college degree. Despite the nice title, a private office, and a good paycheck, I was little more than a glorified secretary to him. Sometimes, especially when he was out of town or buried in solving problems on the line, I got to dip my hands and wits into special projects, for which he took the credit. Needless to say, with E-Z-GO, the world’s largest cart maker, and Club Car located there, we had our work cut out for us to compete with them.”

After she related facts about the construction and selling of golf carts and her responsibilities at Smooth Rider years ago,
she asked, “How did you get from Richmond to Sea Island and start a practice here?”

“The Cloister and Sea Island were recommended by a patient who loved to vacation here, even had a home nearby. I came down several times to relax and play golf, fell in love with the place, and moved my practice to Brunswick. I even purchased his house, and he gave me a good deal on it because he thinks I saved his life and he was retiring out West.”

“I’m sure you’re being modest, because I bet you did save his life. In a way, you saved mine; you rescued me from a pit I was digging for myself. Did you consider moving back to Richmond after your wife’s death?”

“Not really because the kids and I were too established in Georgia.”

“What about after you retire, though that’s a long way off?”

“Nope, I like these long summers and short, mild winters; and I’m closer to the kids and my grandchildren here than I would be there. Besides, it’s a golfer’s heaven with so many excellent courses located around here. Are you thinking about moving now that your husband is gone?”

“No, I like it here, too. I don’t know many people yet, but I will in time. Tom didn’t care for socializing locally, so I’m still rather a stranger on the island. He liked to select my friends and activities; now, that’s my job.” The moment Cass exposed those private details, she wondered why she had. Perhaps it was to let him know why she had been rather reclusive. Or perhaps it was to let him know straight out she wouldn’t allow any man to rule her life again.

As he gazed into her soft brown eyes, his wits clouded for a moment and he asked a bold question. “You never had children; Was that by choice? If you don’t want to answer, that’s fine,” he added with haste.

Cass decided that as long as she spoke about certain personal, details perhaps he would too; and they could learn more about each other. “Not by my choice. Tom didn’t want another child.
In hindsight, I should have discussed that important subject with him before we married, but I assumed that marriage naturally included having children. I love them and I miss not having any. My parents would have loved grandchildren. I might have told you they were killed in a train wreck when I was thirty. I sent them on a cross-country trip as an anniversary present, but they didn’t return from it. The most comforting thoughts afterward were in knowing they had lived happy lives and they died together, instantly and without suffering. They were good people, wonderful parents; I loved them and was proud to be their daughter. The worst part was being an only and late-life child because there was no family with whom to share my grief. I was lucky I had a best friend who consoled me and helped with everything.”

Jason didn’t comment on her disclosures because the waitress brought their soups, shrimp bisque with sherry cream, and placed them on the china chargers before them, then refilled their water glasses. They both ate and drank for a while in silence as they listened to the musicians.

For some reason, Cass wanted him to know they had something in common besides tennis and her medical problems and to let him know she wasn’t put off by his being married twice, so she said, “In case you’re wondering why I waited so long to get married, I didn’t; I married my high school sweetheart when I was nineteen. We divorced after five years during my sophomore year of college. We were waiting to have children until after both of us finished school and established our careers; we didn’t make it that far. He’s remarried now and has a family, but we don’t have any contact.”

Jason was relieved to hear that last sentence, and she looked as if she were being honest. He was glad she was opening up to him, but he wondered if it was out of friendship or a desire to get better acquainted for romantic reasons. “Divorce can be difficult, but it’s easier when no kids are involved. It appears as if we have similar histories in some areas.”

She smiled and nodded, then finished her soup. Both listened—or pretended to listen—to the musicians until salads were served.

Between bites, they talked about places they had been, skiing, golf, tennis, and current happenings in the news. A few brief mentions of their past spouses terminated those intrusions for the last time that evening. Each wanted to know the reason for the other’s divorce, but didn’t ask.

The wine steward refilled their crystal glasses before the waitress brought their entrees: Dover sole meuniere sauteed in lemon butter and served with parsely potatoes, snow peas, and broccoflower for Cass; Gratin of Lobster “Cardinal,” flamed Maine lobster meat and mushrooms in cream, served with duchesse potatoes and asparagus spears for Jason. He was served iced tea; she, Earl Grey hot tea.

After eating a few bites, Cass said, “This is absolutely divine.”

Jason smiled and concurred that his food was delicious, too.

As they ate, she noted he was at ease in the formal and expensive setting. He was well-groomed, down to clean and trimmed fingernails. His double-breasted Ralph Lauren suit was tailored to fit his broad shoulders. He had an air of virility and sensuality, and his company and conversation were enjoyable and interesting, calming but exhilarating.

Her study of him was flaming her desire for him, so she renewed their conversation to alter her line of thought. “I’m glad you told me about Mary Ellis; she’s delightful. We had a nice chat yesterday and she starts to work for me on Monday. Of course,” she leaned forward and whispered, “it wasn’t a fun walk in the park to fire Inez after I hired Mary. She was furious and rude after I gave her the bad news. Thank you for helping me to replace Inez; she and her behavior had worn mighty thin, especially this week. And since you’re my physician, the last thing I need is somebody grating on my nerves, right?”

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