Love With A Stranger (31 page)

“That sounds like a great idea.”
Get him out of this private location fast!
“Why don’t we have our drinks while we’re changing clothes? If we hurry, we won’t have to stand in line forever. You know how crowded it can get on a Friday night.”

He gave a lock of her hair a gentle tug and grinned. “Smart woman. I’ll meet you at your back door in…say twenty minutes?”

The Crab Trap on the next island had a rustic and casual ambiance. Its facade, with a long fenced-in porch, reminded Cass of the Old West, except for the white rowboat sitting atop its roof. A covered side porch with rough-hewn posts and exposed ceiling beams and with high-backed wooden benches and matching tables allowed for pleasant outdoor dining. Inside, the decor featured anything to do with water. It was a favorite eating spot for tourists, but the height of the season hadn’t gotten into full swing yet. The restaurant was famous for its variety and generous portions of fresh seafood prepared in any way the customer requested.

Peter grinned and chuckled before he suggested in a playful tone, “Let’s get down and dirty and order the messiest dishes
they have. We can pig out for a change and have another margarita to wash it all down. How’s that for a celebratory diversion?”

“Perfect. You order, and I’ll prepare my tummy for the barrage.”

They were seated near the back on the left side, given menus, and their drink order was taken. It was only a few minutes before the waitress returned with the pale-green drinks in saltlipped glasses and garnished with limes. Peter told her their dinner selections, and she left to fill their orders.

While they sipped the tangy beverages and waited for their meals to arrive, Peter said, “We should hitch a ride on one of our company shrimp boats soon so you can see that work in action. They catch all sorts of things besides shrimp: shells, starfish, sand dollars, crabs, fish, and sometimes even a small shark. We sell those items to souvenir shops and artists who make crafts out of them. Our captains take special care to protect the dolphins and Right Whales that frequent these waters. Another thing you may enjoy and find enlightening is a company tour, watching how seafood is processed, packaged, and shipped to our customers.”

“I would like that very much, Peter, thanks.”

“Good, we’ll make a date to do them real soon. I’ll also give you a tour of the electronics firm, but I’ll warn you now, it’s a little boring. Still, it might be wise for you to learn a few things about our companies. I’ll request a report on each one of them for you to study. Afterward, we can discuss them, and I’ll go over the annual reports with you at the end of the year. Currently, they’re all making money for us. Smooth Rider is the only one I’m dumping. We just don’t have the cart supply contracts the others do; their names are bigger and they’ve been in business longer, and they put out fine products. I’m afraid if I hold on to it too long, it’ll lose its sale value and wind up in the red. I think Dad kept it more for sentimental
reasons than because it was profitable. Do you have any objections to unloading it?”

“No, none, but thanks for asking. I would like to know something about our companies because I don’t want to appear ignorant if somebody asks me about them. But I think you’re doing a fine job operating them, and I’m certainly not knowledgeable enough to give any opinions about them.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence and faith in me, and we’ll have to get you knowledgeable. You’re welcome to tag along with me on any of my future business trips if you want to tour the other companies.”

After the waitress brought their she crab soups, Cass said, “That will be good to do in late summer or early fall; first, I think we should give the employees time to settle down following all the changes. We don’t want them to think we’re doing an inspection and evaluation for sale purposes.”

Peter nodded and said, “You’re right, and I didn’t think of that angle. As I said, Cass, you’re an intelligent and kindhearted person.”

She smiled her appreciation and sipped soup to prevent having to respond. The truth was, she didn’t want to travel alone with him at this unpredictable time when he was getting too close to her too fast. But, the main reason she didn’t want to go gallivanting with Peter in the near future was she needed to be at home to make a decision about continuing her relationship with Jason.

Peter looked at her and said, “I almost forgot to tell you; I invited Pat and Dana Marlowe to have dinner with us tomorrow night at the St. Simons Island Club. Pat is the manager of our electronics firm. I thought it would give you a chance to meet people, get to know one of our staff members, and give you practice socializing without Dad. They just had their first child, a son, about six weeks ago, and this will be the first time Dana’s gotten out of the house since the baby was born. I sent them flowers and a gift certificate and signed both of our names to
the cards; so if they thank you for them, that’s what they’re talking about.”

“That was very kind and thoughtful of you, Peter, and I would be delighted to go along.”

“I picked the Island Club over the Cloister or one of the other clubs because it’s less formal and I figured they would feel more comfortable in that setting.” He glanced beyond her and grinned. “Well, here it comes, so get ready for the onslaught.”

They were served battered fries, hush puppies, cole slaw, and corn on the cob, along with a combination of boiled and fried shrimp, deviled crab, and a large platter of crab legs. The waitress put down an ample supply of napkins and ice water.

The moment she left their table after smiling and telling them to enjoy their food, Cass took a deep breath, laughed, and said, “Wow! If we consume all of this, we will be puffed out like fat pigs.”

“For one night, we can forget about fat content and salt and cholesterol levels, right?”

“Why not? We deserve to splurge on occasion.”

“That’s my Cass talking. Dig in. Oink, oink,” he jested.

Amidst laughter, she peeled boiled shrimp and tossed the shells into the hole in the table where a trash can caught them. After eating for a few minutes, she murmured, “I love these battered fries, and the hush puppies are delicious; everything is delicious.”

“To steal a quote: ‘It doesn’t get much better than this’, right?”

“Right.” As she tried to nibble daintily on the ear of corn, its juices dribbled down her chin. Before she could put down the cob and grab a napkin, Peter rose slightly in his chair, leaned over, and dabbed it for her.

He grinned. “Messy like I warned, but well worth it.”

“Thanks. I don’t have to look like a pig because I’m eating like one.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know if anything dares to mar that lovely and clean face. You do the same for me.”

Cass scooped out several forkfuls of deviled crab, holding each in her mouth for a few moments to relish their flavor before swallowing them. She sipped alternately from the ice water and the margarita, resolved not to allow the second drink to go to her head.

They remained silent and busy for a while until Cass remarked, “I would love to have these batter and cole slaw receipes. I wonder how much they would charge me for them.”

“They’re probably closely guarded secrets and no amount of money would bribe them away from their cooks and owners. Contrary to popular belief, Cass, everything does not have a price.”

“Such as?” she probed before biting into a fried shrimp.

“Let’s see…” he murmured.

Cass was amused by the comical expression he put on his handsome face as he reasoned on her query and cracked crab legs. She felt relaxed with him this evening, was having fun, a lot of fun.

He finally replied, “A good man’s honor, his reputation, his soul, his wife and kids, and things like that.”

“Are you a good man, Peter?” she teased.

“I hope so; I try to be, despite having a naughty reputation. People who don’t know me, really know me, judge me by what they think is true or from their own prejudices. Tell me the truth, Cass, do I really give off a terrible and one-sided impression?”

Whoa, boy, don’t put me on that hot seat!
Yet, she answered, “Not to me. In fact, I find you to be a very complex and multi-faceted person with a lot of excellent traits and qualities. However…”

“Whoops, here it comes,” he jested when she paused.

“However, you have a tendency to conceal or play them down. It’s as if you think showing them will make you appear weak.”

He pretended to consider her words, and came up with what he was certain was a clever and touching reply. “You’re right. A man is reared and trained to control and hide his emotions, to be strong at all times, to be the shoulder to lean on, not need to lean on one himself. I’ll have to work on being more caring and considerate.”

“You are caring and considerate. What you did for the Marlowes and for me prove that to be true. You’re more open and relaxed around friends, but seem to be on guard and wary around others.”

“So, I’m suspicious by nature and habit, huh?”

“Considering who you are, I suppose that’s necessary.”

“So, how does one find and walk that middle ground?”

“I don’t know, Peter; I’m still trying to locate it myself.”

“Then, perhaps we’ll find it together. You want more crab legs?”

“No, thanks, I’m stuffed. You can order more; we have time.”

At home, Peter walked Cass to the door, kissed her cheek, and said good night. “I’ll call you in the morning to see what’s a good time to look at those things you mentioned. And don’t forget, dinner with the Marlowes at six-thirty.”

“I’ll be ready. You can come over any time after nine in the morning.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then. Good night, Cass; I had a wonderful time.”

“Me, too. Good night.”

She locked the door, set the alarm system, turned off the lights, and went upstairs. Though it was only a little past ten o’clock, she got into a nightgown and climbed into bed. She pressed a remote control button and turned on the television to lull her to sleep. She had a long and busy day tomorrow, good impressions to make.

* * *

Jason sat in his BMW on Sea Island Drive with Cass’s house in view but not his car from her windows if she looked outside. It was cloaked by the dark shadows created by huge live oaks whose giant limbs almost canopied the street in certain spots, including the one he had chosen to use.

Earlier, he had been driving down Ocean Boulevard while taking a colleague home whose disabled vehicle was towed from their joint parking lot when he sighted Cass and Peter getting out of his Porsche Carrera at the Crab Trap. After dropping off his friend in the north beach area of the large island, he had—like a lovesick fool—waited in the parking lot of a shopping strip on Fredericka Road, knowing they had to pass by it to reach the Sea Island Causeway.

It had been unmerciful hours before they did so, just before he called a halt to his impulsive vigil, thinking they might have taken the long route or gone elsewhere after supper. As he sat there, his rebellious mind had envisioned them huddled over a wooden table, eating, laughing, chatting, and having a good time, while he was miserable, jealous, and lonely. After they passed, he had trailed them at a safe distance and taken this observation position. He had watched the lights go out downstairs and go on upstairs not long after Peter pulled into his driveway.

Now, Cass’s bedroom light was out, and he couldn’t help but wonder if—hope and pray—she was alone there. He had vowed to give her the time and space she said she needed; but could he keep that promise when Peter was so close to her every day and night? Could he when he knew Peter was so evil, so lecherous, so deceitful?

Jason rebuked himself for stooping to such deceitful measures. He loved Cass and must have faith in her. If he went to her tonight, he not only would be breaking his promise to give her space but would be implying distrust of her. That action would be detrimental to their future relationship.
Go home and get to bed,
he told himself and obeyed that difficult order after staring at her bedroom window for a minute.

Saturday morning, Peter walked to Cass’s house to go through his father’s things. It didn’t take him long to make his decisions and, with her help, to box up those items and carry them to his garage apartment. After thanking her and reminding her of their plans for that evening, he left to play golf.

Cass spent the rest of her morning and most of the afternoon folding and packing the remainder of Tom’s belongings. Soon, she would make this house all hers by changing the carpets, drapes, and many of its furnishings. In particular, she wanted Tom’s lingering presence to be removed from the den, gym,
his office, and the kitchen. Since he had rarely used the living, dining, and guest rooms, there was no need to redo them. But it would be time-consuming and expensive to tackle that project if she decided to relocate elsewhere on the island or on the next one.

At seven o’clock, Cassandra and Peter Grantham and the Marlowes entered the dining room of the St. Simons Island Club which featured a low-country setting and tranquil atmosphere. They were seated at a square table beside a partition which had lush plants decorating the waist-high barrier and balloon valances at its top. Beyond it was a row of tall paned windows that provided a lovely view of the club’s magnificent grounds, complete with a spectacular covered bridge on the entry drive, countless pines, sprawling live oaks, and a well-manicured golf course. The armed wooden chairs were beautifully carved and had soft, thick cushions for comfort. At the far end of the room was a large fireplace. The men were attired in suits and the women, in Sunday dresses.

As the room filled with other guests and as they ate their appetizers—Escargot Bourguignoe for Peter, assorted fruits for Cass and Dana, and smoked trout for Pat—they talked about the couple’s six-week-old son.

Dana was obviously delighted to be out of the house for the first time since Steven’s birth. Even so, the first-time mother glanced at her watch numerous times as if checking to see what her baby was doing at that minute.

As their soup was being served, Cass looked at pictures of Steven. That fierce yearning for a child of her own engulfed her again. What good, Cass fretted, was a lot of money if one was miserable and denied such a joy?

Following their Caesar salads and continued genial conversation, their entrees arrived: sauteed Atlantic swordfish steak for everyone except Dana, who chose the grilled breast of duck.

During the meal, Pat told Cass details about the electronics firm and offered to give her a guided tour any time she wanted to see it. They talked about local and national news, and about their families and backgrounds. Peter was praised for his work at the company, but Tom was mentioned rarely for which Cass was grateful. Even so, every fifteen minutes or so, the topic returned to Steven and children.

On the sly, Peter watched Cass’s reactions to that particular subject. He applauded himself for his successful ruse tonight, as it was evident Cass was gnawing at the bit to have a child, for which she would need a husband. He was elated by the many chances he was given to flatter her, to make her smile, to keep her relaxed, especially with a certain person witnessing their fun and rapport.

As Cass was returning to their table after going to the ladies’ room with Dana, Cass noticed Jason dining in the far corner near the enormous fireplace with an older couple and who she assumed was their adult son. No doubt Jason had sighted her and might be wondering what she was doing out on the town. She was glad she had been sitting with her back to him and hadn’t known he was present, or she couldn’t have enjoyed herself as she had. Now that she knew Jason was there, she was relieved the pleasant meal was over and they were preparing to depart. She made certain she didn’t even glance in his direction as they made their way from the room, with Peter’s arm on her waist.

The four stood in the reception area for a while as the Marlowes thanked them and told them what a wonderful time they had tonight.

“So did I,” Cass concurred, “and it was a pleasure to meet you two. Maybe we can do this again in the near future.”

Dana said, “That would be wonderful. Oh, yes, there’s something I almost forgot to tell you; I guess because we kept getting
sidetracked talking about Steven. We have a company cookout on the first Saturday of every June at our house. We want you to come this year. If you take the company tour with Pat soon, the cookout will give you a chance to get better acquainted with the employees and to meet their families. We have games and swimming for the children, and the company provides the food and drinks. If you like, you can bring a friend, and Peter can bring a date.”

“We’ll be there, Dana, but I’ll escort Cass,” Peter responded. “It’ll be more relaxing if I don’t have to entertain a strange young lady all afternoon, and it’ll give me more of an opportunity to mingle with my staff and their families. Does that suit you, Cass?”

“I’ll write it on my calendar the moment I get home tonight. Thanks for including me.”

Outside, after once again exchanging enthusiastic words about the evening, they bid each other good night and walked to their cars, parked in opposite directions.

As Cass settled herself in the leather sports seat of Peter’s Porsche Carrera 4s, she gave a peaceful sigh and said, “I’m glad you arranged that dinner; I like the Marlowes; they’re a nice couple.”

As Peter fastened his seat belt, he added, “And Pat’s a super manager for our firm. Things wouldn’t run as smoothly and profitably as they do without him. I gave him a raise; I figured he deserved it and needs it with a new baby in the house. That’s a cute little tyke they have, isn’t he?”

“He looked absolutely precious in those pictures. He has such a head full of dark hair, and those huge brown eyes are darling.”

Peter turned on the ignition switch, put the car in gear, and drove along the paved drive and across the covered bridge as he continued, “It’s got to make one’s heart pound with love and pride to gaze into your own baby’s face and to hold it in your arms. People kid about single women hearing their body
clocks ticking at certain ages, but mine seems to tick more loudly every few months. Lordy, it would be nice to find the right woman, settle down, and have a family.”

At the entrance, he turned right onto King’s Way to head toward the Sea Island Causeway and home. “It’s strange how one trots along thinking he’s happy and carefree and lucky to be a bachelor; then, blam, he runs into a brick wall and wakes up to realize he’s alone and real life is passing him by fast, too fast.”

“Have you ever dated any woman you considered marrying?” Cass asked.

“Oh, I was tempted by a couple of them, until I got to know them better. I was even engaged once, when I was nineteen.”

“What happened? If that topic isn’t painful or too personal.”

“It isn’t, not any more. I almost got to the marriage altar with the first one. But when she started making all of these grandiose plans about how and where we were going to live, I figured I’d better find out which she loved and wanted more: me or my family’s money. I told her I was going to work for my father after college graduation, but I’d have to start at the bottom of the company and work my way up the ladder just like everybody else employed by him, and support myself. I told her we would have to live on a tight budget for a while, and maybe she’d even have to work until we got ourselves financially secure. Needless to say, she bolted on me within two weeks. The second time was when the woman I was dating at twenty-two got pregnant by accident and had an abortion on the sly, even though I told her we would get married and have the baby. She told me afterward she didn’t want to be tied down to a kid at her age, but she still wanted to marry me; said we could have kids later, but I didn’t believe her. I guess those two experiences and a few others are what made me so leery of women’s motives. Sometimes good looks, money, and prestige are more of a curse than a blessing. Just think, Cass, I could have a four-year-old son tagging after me today. We
could be…” Peter’s sigh was deep and filled with hurt. “Damn! I lied, Cass; it does still anger and pain me even after all these years. Sometimes I find myself wondering how he would look and what we would be doing. She got rid of him without a second thought just like my mother abandoned me.”

She heard anguish in his voice and read torment in his expression. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles blanched white and his arms were stiff. Her heart went out to him for those sufferings, as she was too familiar with those feelings.

“I’m sorry, Cass; that slipped out. I guess maybe I had too much to drink or I’m tired. Ignore what I said, please.”

Cass knew he hadn’t drunk too much wine because he had appointed himself their “designated driver.” Despite his smile and chuckles, he appeared ashamed of his slip. “Don’t be sorry or embarrassed you have those feelings; you’re only human, Peter.”

“Well, they go against my motto of accepting what I can’t change. We can get ourselves into some real pickles at times, can’t we?”

“Yes, we can; I’ve certainly been in a few: Brad, for one.”
Tom for another; and now, with you and Jason.

“You think we’ll ever find anybody that’s perfect for us?”

“I hope so, Peter, or we’re in for long and lonely lives.”

“I hope not, Cass, because we deserve better.”
You’re a naive and gullible woman, Cass! How can you believe such bullshit? Don’t you know real men don’t talk like that? No wonder you get yourself into so much trouble with men! You don’t know anything about them. You just let them lead you around by your pretty nose and cunt. Yep, my sexy and stupid stepmother, you’re just about ripe for plucking by a new man.

Peter was so caught up in his devious and lewd thoughts that he failed to realize the change in his feigned somber expression and mood, but Cass witnessed the smug grin that curled his mouth up at one corner and the devilish gleam that filled
his hazel eyes. The alteration was alarming to her. She had no doubt that Peter still disliked and distrusted her and was deceiving her. What remained to be discovered was his motive.

When they reached her door at home, Cass faked a sunny smile, told him good night, and thanked him for a lovely evening. She almost cringed when he kissed her cheek before he departed.
You may have won a few battles, Peter, but you haven’t won the war, and you won’t; I swear it. You may think I’m blind and dense, but I’m not; you’ll see very soon.

On Sunday morning, Cass didn’t go to church. Though she wanted to be there, she thought it unwise to see Jason with an audience present. When they next talked, she decided, it must be in private.

That opportunity came sooner than Cass expected when Jason came over that afternoon while Peter was playing golf again. She was standing at the kitchen window when he wheeled his vehicle into her driveway. No doubt he was breaking his word about leaving her alone temporarily because he saw her out last night with Peter. Now that she had a different view of Tom’s son and the police investigation was over, it was time to learn if Jason Burkman could be trusted. She opened the front door as he approached the porch.

He looked at her and said, “I know I promised to wait until you called, but I had to see you, Cass. I have to know the answer to one question: Did Peter tell you about our past problem? Is that why you stopped seeing me?”

“That’s two questions, but the answer to the first one is yes, he did. The answer to the last one is yes and no. Perhaps we should have a serious talk. You have a right to tell me your side of the story. Please, come in. Have a seat in the den and I’ll join you in a minute with some colas.”

Jason walked to the fireplace and gazed at the painting above the mantel. He was nervous and worried, despite the fact she was willing to give him the opportunity to explain. All he could do was tell the truth and hope she believed him. When he heard her enter the room, he headed for the sofa and she, for the loveseat nearby.

Cass focused her gaze and attention on him and listened to his version, which was similar to Peter’s account in most areas.

“I’m sure Peter must have proclaimed his innocence to you, like he did to me. I can’t prove he lied either time, but it sounded fishy to me. I don’t see how Brenda could have secreted enough money from a household account to rent an apartment, and afford all the expenses that go with it: I think somebody had to be paying for at least half of those costs. Since she was having an affair with Peter, I had to assume he was footing the bill for their love nest. I was skeptical that he wasn’t suspicious of her crazy schedule. I also can’t believe he never saw our pictures on the society page since we were featured in that section on several occasions at charity functions. Since we lived and socialized in the same area, how could he not see us out together at least once or twice?” Jason shrugged. “Maybe he was telling the truth about Brenda using him, but I think there were too many holes in his story for me to believe him. What did he tell you?”

Cass was honest with him. She watched his gaze widen as she told the whole story.

Jason stared into her brown eyes and vowed, “Even if he’s as guilty as sin, Cass, I would never use you to spite him. If you knew me better, you’d know I’m not that kind of person. Besides, if I was only out for revenge, I would have come after you sooner. I could have tricked you into divorcing Tom, then rejected you and created a terrible scandal for them. You would have hated and blamed Peter for provoking me to revenge.”

Jason took a deep breath and an even deeper plunge into murky emotional waters as he confessed, “I started falling in
love with you the first time we met and those feelings have gotten stronger as time passed. I need to have you in my life, Cass, but more so, I want you there. If I do or say anything to turn you against me, it will be the biggest and most painful mistake I’ve ever made. All I’m asking for is a chance to prove myself to you. Am I praying and wishing for too much? I know this is probably not the right time to be pressuring you, but I don’t want to give myself false hopes.”