knew he had it bad." Her friend sounded triumphant. "Cassie, I am so happy for you."
Cassie stared up at the ceiling, exasperated. Why didn't anyone understand what was truly going on? "Adriana, please listen carefully He doesn't know what he wants. He flirted with me, then you, now me again."
"He was never attracted to me."
"He was trying to feel your leg. How more attracted can you be?"
"Wait, you've got it all wrong. He—"
A sudden beep interrupted the line. "One minute, I've got another call." She switched over. "Hello?"
"Hello, Cassie." Her ex-husband's smooth voice oozed over the line like an oily vinaigrette. It made her stomach turn.
She rested her head back and groaned. "What do you want, Timothy?"
"Did you get the flowers?"
"Unfortunately." She lifted her head. "Timothy, perhaps because you've never been divorced before you don't understand the protocol, but you're not supposed to send roses to your ex-wife with a note that says 'I love you.'"
"You do if you want her back. I love you and I miss you."
"Uh-huh." She didn't believe him. Timothy was a consummate actor when he wanted to be. Cassie wiggled her toes, wondering what new shade of nail polish she should use.
"I just want—no need—a chance to talk."
A nice mauve. She tucked her feet underneath her. "How's Debra?"
"Who?"
"Oh, dear. Is she out of the picture already? I thought that since you put so much effort into hiding her from me, the relationship was serious."
"We broke up," he said abruptly. "But that's not important. I—"
"Of course it's not important," she agreed in a sweet tone. "Don't worry, you'll find another. In the interim try to catch a disease or something." She switched back to Adriana.
"Who was that?" Adriana demanded.
Cassie tugged on her wet hair and stared at a soggy strand. She had better condition and blow-dry it before it turned into cornhusk. "The jerk."
"I think you should tell Drake about him."
At the sound of his name, Cassie let the strands fall and slap her on the cheek. She would have to think of how she would handle him tomorrow. "He doesn't need to know about my personal life. Besides, he likes you."
"Cassie, he knew you were under the table."
She felt blood leave her face. "He knew?"
"Yes."
"How would he know that?"
"Probably because I pointed to the table when he asked where you were."
"You didn't."
"I did."
He had known she was under the table. He knew that his leg had been brushing against her. Oh, God. Her face burned with embarrassment and guilty pleasure. What was she going to do with him?
"So what is your plan for tomorrow?" Adriana asked.
"After killing you? I'm not sure."
"Come on, Cassie. I did it for your own good."
"Said the vet to the neutered dog."
"Give the guy a break."
Cassie grasped a strand of hair again. "Right leg or left?"
Adriana sighed. "Try to be serious."
"All right. I'll seriously see you tomorrow." She hung up.
* * *
Eric slammed shut the ledgers he was reviewing and glared at his brother. "What's wrong?"
Drake didn't look up, too absorbed by the papers in front of him. "Nothing. Why? "
They were in the back office of the Blue Mango, one of Drake's older restaurants. The light from the morning sun shone on the cool gray elegance of the room.
Eric narrowed his eyes. "Because you're in an extremely good mood today."
Drake was unable to control a quick grin as he ran his fingers down a list of items. "How can you tell?"
"You haven't scowled at anyone yet. You actually said good morning to a busboy. It makes me nervous. What is going on? Discover a new recipe? Was Elizabeth extra kind to you?"
Drake rested his chin on his fist and looked up. "I kissed her."
Eric fell forward. "You kissed your stove?"
"No. Cassie. I kissed her last night and she liked it."
"How did that happen? Did you track her down?"
"I didn't have to. She's teaching a class I'm taking."
"What class?"
His gaze shifted to the window. "Social graces."
"Amazing." Eric sat back. "It
Cassie stared up at the ceiling, exasperated. Why didn't anyone understand what was truly going on? "Adriana, please listen carefully He doesn't know what he wants. He flirted with me, then you, now me again."
"He was never attracted to me."
"He was trying to feel your leg. How more attracted can you be?"
"Wait, you've got it all wrong. He—"
A sudden beep interrupted the line. "One minute, I've got another call." She switched over. "Hello?"
"Hello, Cassie." Her ex-husband's smooth voice oozed over the line like an oily vinaigrette. It made her stomach turn.
She rested her head back and groaned. "What do you want, Timothy?"
"Did you get the flowers?"
"Unfortunately." She lifted her head. "Timothy, perhaps because you've never been divorced before you don't understand the protocol, but you're not supposed to send roses to your ex-wife with a note that says 'I love you.'"
"You do if you want her back. I love you and I miss you."
"Uh-huh." She didn't believe him. Timothy was a consummate actor when he wanted to be. Cassie wiggled her toes, wondering what new shade of nail polish she should use.
"I just want—no need—a chance to talk."
A nice mauve. She tucked her feet underneath her. "How's Debra?"
"Who?"
"Oh, dear. Is she out of the picture already? I thought that since you put so much effort into hiding her from me, the relationship was serious."
"We broke up," he said abruptly. "But that's not important. I—"
"Of course it's not important," she agreed in a sweet tone. "Don't worry, you'll find another. In the interim try to catch a disease or something." She switched back to Adriana.
"Who was that?" Adriana demanded.
Cassie tugged on her wet hair and stared at a soggy strand. She had better condition and blow-dry it before it turned into cornhusk. "The jerk."
"I think you should tell Drake about him."
At the sound of his name, Cassie let the strands fall and slap her on the cheek. She would have to think of how she would handle him tomorrow. "He doesn't need to know about my personal life. Besides, he likes you."
"Cassie, he knew you were under the table."
She felt blood leave her face. "He knew?"
"Yes."
"How would he know that?"
"Probably because I pointed to the table when he asked where you were."
"You didn't."
"I did."
He had known she was under the table. He knew that his leg had been brushing against her. Oh, God. Her face burned with embarrassment and guilty pleasure. What was she going to do with him?
"So what is your plan for tomorrow?" Adriana asked.
"After killing you? I'm not sure."
"Come on, Cassie. I did it for your own good."
"Said the vet to the neutered dog."
"Give the guy a break."
Cassie grasped a strand of hair again. "Right leg or left?"
Adriana sighed. "Try to be serious."
"All right. I'll seriously see you tomorrow." She hung up.
* * *
Eric slammed shut the ledgers he was reviewing and glared at his brother. "What's wrong?"
Drake didn't look up, too absorbed by the papers in front of him. "Nothing. Why? "
They were in the back office of the Blue Mango, one of Drake's older restaurants. The light from the morning sun shone on the cool gray elegance of the room.
Eric narrowed his eyes. "Because you're in an extremely good mood today."
Drake was unable to control a quick grin as he ran his fingers down a list of items. "How can you tell?"
"You haven't scowled at anyone yet. You actually said good morning to a busboy. It makes me nervous. What is going on? Discover a new recipe? Was Elizabeth extra kind to you?"
Drake rested his chin on his fist and looked up. "I kissed her."
Eric fell forward. "You kissed your stove?"
"No. Cassie. I kissed her last night and she liked it."
"How did that happen? Did you track her down?"
"I didn't have to. She's teaching a class I'm taking."
"What class?"
His gaze shifted to the window. "Social graces."
"Amazing." Eric sat back. "It
Similar Books
