that still clung to her shoulders. "You're beautiful," he whispered in awe. "Do you sprinkle this on other parts of you?"
She grabbed both sides of his face, forcing him to look at her. "Drake, please pay attention. This is unnecessary. It's not about me. It's about you and Adriana."
"Who?"
She let her hands fall. "The woman you met at the Golden Diner. She told me about you. Now I don't blame you for being intimidated by her. She's elegant, attractive, and smart. But you don't have to worry, just be yourself and everything will work out. Be bold."
Drake pinched the bridge of his nose as if in great pain. "What are you talking about?" He waved his hand. "Wait. I don't want to know. I think we've misunderstood each other, but we'll work it out." He had to go home and think. He knew that if he stayed any longer he would lose his patience and effectively stop her from talking for a while. He brushed his lips against hers. "Remember that for now," he said and left, becoming invisible in the crowd.
"You forgot your umbrella!" she called.
She heard a smug voice full of promise rise above the raincoats and umbrellas. "Don't worry, Cassie. I'll get it tomorrow."
Chapter 4
Cassie. He'd called her Cassie. He'd known all this time who she really was. She shook her head. It didn't matter anyway. He was just a flirt testing his wings and she had to remember that when she saw him the next day.
She turned the key to her apartment and heard the familiar groan of door number 712 as it opened a crack.
"Hello, Mr. Gianolo," Cassie called.
He remained hidden behind the door. "You're late," he said in a harsh Detroit accent.
"I know. I had a busy but successful night."
"A man?"
"Maybe."
He paused. "You're wet."
"It was raining."
"Didn't he have an umbrella?" he demanded.
"Yes, and we used it, but we still got wet."
The door opened a bit farther, revealing a rough older man in worn jeans and a brown shirt with pale blue eyes and a small round nose. "Name?"
"Drake."
"New boyfriend?"
"No."
"Fine."
"Don't forget your soup." She pointed to a container near his door. Everyone in the building knew he and the widowed Mrs. Hill had a flirtation going.
"Thanks." The door closed.
Cassie smiled as she pushed open her door. Since she had moved in, Mr. Gianolo had made it his business to check up on her. He was a widower with his two grown children living in Michigan. He said watching over her gave him something to do; plus he didn't like the idea of women living alone. Cassie didn't mind his meddling. She had gotten used to the sound of his door opening, his quick, rough questions and ultimate acceptance.
The phone rang with an urgent cry for attention as she tossed down her bag. She kicked off her soggy shoes and picked it up, knowing who it would be. "Hello, Adriana."
"Don't hello me," she ordered. "What happened?"
Cassie feigned innocence. "Where?"
"You know where. Did he say anything to you?"
Cassie touched her wet hair and sighed, saddened that her fantasy night had to be ruined by such realities. "The man is obviously very shy about asking you out so he's gathering his courage by asking me out first. Could you wait a moment? I need to get changed."
She laid the phone down, changed into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and returned to the phone.
"That makes no sense," Adriana said when Cassie returned to the line.
She plumped up a pillow and fell into the cushions of her couch. It was old but comfortable. "It makes perfect sense." Cassie drew up her knees to her chest. "It's sort of like those Hollywood stars who marry very ordinary women until they can afford trophy wives."
"Drake's not like that," Adriana argued. "He honestly likes you."
She rested her chin on her knees, her voice lowering. "Yes, his kiss would suggest that."
Adriana pounced on the statement. "He kissed you?"
"Yes."
"On the mouth? You know the forehead doesn't count."
Cassie stretched out her legs. "It was on the mouth."
"I just
She grabbed both sides of his face, forcing him to look at her. "Drake, please pay attention. This is unnecessary. It's not about me. It's about you and Adriana."
"Who?"
She let her hands fall. "The woman you met at the Golden Diner. She told me about you. Now I don't blame you for being intimidated by her. She's elegant, attractive, and smart. But you don't have to worry, just be yourself and everything will work out. Be bold."
Drake pinched the bridge of his nose as if in great pain. "What are you talking about?" He waved his hand. "Wait. I don't want to know. I think we've misunderstood each other, but we'll work it out." He had to go home and think. He knew that if he stayed any longer he would lose his patience and effectively stop her from talking for a while. He brushed his lips against hers. "Remember that for now," he said and left, becoming invisible in the crowd.
"You forgot your umbrella!" she called.
She heard a smug voice full of promise rise above the raincoats and umbrellas. "Don't worry, Cassie. I'll get it tomorrow."
Chapter 4
Cassie. He'd called her Cassie. He'd known all this time who she really was. She shook her head. It didn't matter anyway. He was just a flirt testing his wings and she had to remember that when she saw him the next day.
She turned the key to her apartment and heard the familiar groan of door number 712 as it opened a crack.
"Hello, Mr. Gianolo," Cassie called.
He remained hidden behind the door. "You're late," he said in a harsh Detroit accent.
"I know. I had a busy but successful night."
"A man?"
"Maybe."
He paused. "You're wet."
"It was raining."
"Didn't he have an umbrella?" he demanded.
"Yes, and we used it, but we still got wet."
The door opened a bit farther, revealing a rough older man in worn jeans and a brown shirt with pale blue eyes and a small round nose. "Name?"
"Drake."
"New boyfriend?"
"No."
"Fine."
"Don't forget your soup." She pointed to a container near his door. Everyone in the building knew he and the widowed Mrs. Hill had a flirtation going.
"Thanks." The door closed.
Cassie smiled as she pushed open her door. Since she had moved in, Mr. Gianolo had made it his business to check up on her. He was a widower with his two grown children living in Michigan. He said watching over her gave him something to do; plus he didn't like the idea of women living alone. Cassie didn't mind his meddling. She had gotten used to the sound of his door opening, his quick, rough questions and ultimate acceptance.
The phone rang with an urgent cry for attention as she tossed down her bag. She kicked off her soggy shoes and picked it up, knowing who it would be. "Hello, Adriana."
"Don't hello me," she ordered. "What happened?"
Cassie feigned innocence. "Where?"
"You know where. Did he say anything to you?"
Cassie touched her wet hair and sighed, saddened that her fantasy night had to be ruined by such realities. "The man is obviously very shy about asking you out so he's gathering his courage by asking me out first. Could you wait a moment? I need to get changed."
She laid the phone down, changed into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and returned to the phone.
"That makes no sense," Adriana said when Cassie returned to the line.
She plumped up a pillow and fell into the cushions of her couch. It was old but comfortable. "It makes perfect sense." Cassie drew up her knees to her chest. "It's sort of like those Hollywood stars who marry very ordinary women until they can afford trophy wives."
"Drake's not like that," Adriana argued. "He honestly likes you."
She rested her chin on her knees, her voice lowering. "Yes, his kiss would suggest that."
Adriana pounced on the statement. "He kissed you?"
"Yes."
"On the mouth? You know the forehead doesn't count."
Cassie stretched out her legs. "It was on the mouth."
"I just
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