Authors: Ginger Simpson
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Showered, dressed and hair styled, Cassie stood at the bathroom vanity and applied just enough blush to color her cheeks. The fitting terrycloth jump suit she wore clung to the right places and accentuated her curves.
She dabbed perfume behind her ears and on the pulsing spot in her throat. Satisfied Evan would find her nothing less than alluring. On her way to check on dinner, she paused by the bed and imagined the great dessert she planned for after the meal. Her mouth gaped at her uncharacteristic behavior. What had gotten into her?
Evan's truck rumbled into the driveway as she reached the halfway point on the stairs. She bounded down the remaining steps and hurried to the door, her heart thudding from the image she'd just conjured. She stopped, with her hand on the knob, and composed.
Her timing impeccable, she opened the door as he appeared. He brushed a kiss against her cheek, hung his cap on the hook by the door and combed his fingers through his hair. His nose in the air, he inhaled. "Umm, what smells so good?"
"Could be me." She chuckled. "I'm wearing your favorite perfume."
He snaked an arm around her waist and reeled her close, buying his face in her neck. "You do smell yummy, but I think I was referring to what you're cooking. I'll save you for afterwards."
Evan's musky scent assailed her senses. Strangely, the mingling smell of sweat combined with a fading trace of soap from his morning shower aroused her. Struggling against the urge to pull him upstairs and into the bedroom, she recoiled from his remark and pushed him away. "Fine! If you'd rather fill your stomach instead of appeasing your physical needs, so be it. Just be prepared if I'm not in the mood later." Quite a bluff she had going. She'd thought of nothing but sex all day.
At the oven, she checked the roast, then cleaned and peeled the vegetables. "I hope you really aren't starving. Dinner won't be ready for another hour or so. Would you like a beer?"
"Sounds great, baby girl. It's been a long day."
She withdrew a cold brew from the fridge and handed it to him. He popped the top and took a long draw. "Boy, that hits the spot."
I have a spot you can hit, she thought, but closed the oven, wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and turned. "Why don't you go up, take a shower and change. By the time you're done, dinner should be ready."
"Sounds like a plan." He grazed her lips with a kiss on his way out of the kitchen.
Cassie started to set the table, but a ringing phone interrupted her. "Hello."
"Cassie Fremont, please."
"Speaking."
"This is Stephen Summers from Nova. I'm terribly sorry to disturb you on the weekend, but our security department has flagged your account with suspicious activity."
Her heart sank at the feelings of déjà vu. This was too much of a coincidence. "What kind of activity?"
"Someone has made charges today at Soboba Indian Casino totaling three thousand dollars. I'm calling to confirm that you're aware of the activity. Of course, this is only a courtesy call since your limit hasn't been exceeded."
Cassie grasped her throat. "Oh…w-well…" She tilted her head back and stared up at the ceiling, seeking a logical explanation. A pattern was developing, and she didn't like it at all. Despite wanting to disqualify Evan as a suspect, he'd just notched himself higher on the list.
"Are you there, Ms. Fremont?"
"Sorry. Yes, I'm here. I'm fairly certain the charges are legitimate. I've recently noticed similar charges on another account and believe my business partner may be able to explain them. May I check and call you back on Monday?"
"Certainly, although I should mention that you are very close to the limit on your account at this point. Future charges of a sizeable amount are likely to be declined."
Her face turned hot. If calls like this weren't the height of embarrassment, she wasn't sure what was. "I see. I'll certainly try to make double payments to get the balance down."
"Thank you, Ms. Fremont. I appreciate your time and patience. If you discover the charges are fraudulent, you can reach the appropriate department at the number on the back of your credit card. In any case, I'll expect to hear from you on Monday."
Her shaking hands made it difficult to cradle the phone. Her heart palpitated and Evan's name bubbled in a scream she wanted to release. Sinking onto the couch, she took deep breaths and counted to ten. If she started a yelling match, nothing would be solved. A better plan was staying calm, gathering her thoughts, and having an adult conversation over the nice dinner she'd prepared.
When the timer sounded, she forced herself to walk to the stove and remove the well-browned roast. The vegetables simmered in the bubbling gravy, but didn't hold the appeal they had earlier. Cass set the pan on the stovetop and went to the cupboard for the china. Eating would be difficult under the present circumstances, so maybe she should wait until after they dined. Her mind rebuked the suggestion. You wouldn't wait to save a swimmer who was going under for the third time, and that's exactly how she felt…like she was drowning.
Turning her attention back to dinner, she spooned the potatoes and carrots into a bowl, then sliced the meat. Was holding a dangerous weapon a good idea? She dropped the dirty utensil into the sink. Killing Evan wouldn't solve anything, besides he had to work to repay the debts, if indeed they were his. Was she being fair, condemning him without hearing his side? Any concern she had for his feelings floated away on a cloud of anger created because he didn't have the decency to be honest with her. Work all day, her ass!
Earlier, she'd considered a nice Chablis with dinner, but in her mind, wine was a celebratory drink and she didn't feel much like proposing a toast. She filled water glasses, placed them on the table and took her seat. Evan's cheery whistling signaled his approach. What if she was wrong and he had been working all day? She might believe that except she'd just seen her credit card yesterday and now it was missing. Her jaw tensed when he appeared in the doorway and flashed his confident grin.
Chapter Nineteen
"Umm, umm, umm. Boy, howdy, it smells good in here. I'm starved, baby girl."
Evan's hair glistened with dampness from his shower. His shirt hung unbuttoned, displaying his fury chest and stomach. In her current state of hormone unbalance, Cassie couldn't help thinking about what lay beyond the path of curls disappearing below his belt buckle. How could she think such sexual thoughts given the situation? Was she crazy?
This wasn't quite the right time to start a discussion of the un-pleasantries. She twisted her head from side-to-side, hoping to ease the tension building along her spine. Whether the stiffness was from stress or sexual tension, she wasn't sure.
Evan bent and kissed her neck. She stiffened. Did he notice?
The look on his face said he did. "Is something wrong?"
"Dinner's getting cold," she said flatly. "We can discuss it while we eat." She speared a piece of meat from the platter and plopped it onto his plate, then searched for a small one for herself.
Evan spooned a generous helping of veggies next to his meat, and slathered the roast beef with gravy. Dinner no longer appealed to Cassie. She toyed with her fork and chased pieces of potato around her plate, wondering where to start the conversation.
"What's going on?" Before she could gather her thoughts, Evan opened the window of opportunity. "Your mood has done a one-eighty. You obviously have something' stuck in your craw. Tell me what it is."
Dreading what needed to be said, Cassie shrugged. She wanted this to be a perfect evening but her behavior made it evident something was amiss. "Evan, where were you today?" She forced the question out before her nerves seized up.
"Working…most of the time. Why?"
"And the rest of the time?"
"Just stop with the twenty question routine and spit out what's buggin' you."
Shocked at his defensiveness, she swallowed hard. "I don't want this to turn into an argument, but I can't understand how you suddenly act like the injured party. You don't even know the topic here."
He put down his fork and locked eyes with her. "I don't like feeling as if I've been tried and hung before I even know why."
"How can you possibly feel that way? I haven't even said much of anything yet."
"The problem isn't what you've said, but your body language and evident attitude."
"Of course I have an attitude." An angry shudder ran through her despite trying to suppress her growing agitation. "I'm getting really tired of unpleasant surprises…phone calls about charges I know nothing about…seeing strange entries on credit card statements. Who wouldn't have an attitude?"
"What charges? What phone calls?" Evan's brow rose.
Today, I went through the mail and saw several entries from casinos and restaurants I didn't recognize. A little while before you came home, I received a phone call telling me that three thousand dollars had been charged at Soboba Indian Casino. Do you have anything you want to tell me?" She gazed directly into his eyes.
Evan's mouth formed a crooked grin. "Oh, is that all? I thought we had a serious problem."
Cassie leapt to her feet and threw her napkin to her plate. "Is that all? I can't believe that's your response. I'm working my ass off to support this business venture and you're spending money on non-essential activities. What the hell are you thinking?"
Still seated, Evan peered up at her with wide eyes that made her feel as if he viewed her as crazy. He gestured to her chair. "Calm down. Have a seat and let me explain."
Cassie closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose. Sit and relax? She took a deep breath and exhaled in a whoosh. Plopping down, she crossed her arms and waited.
He leaned forward. "Those charges are from entertaining prospective clients. Haven't you ever heard business people make reference to wining and dining?"
She furrowed her brow at his feeble response. Uncrossing her arms, she pitched forward and gave him a questioning glare. "Wining and dining? In a casino? To the tune of thousands of my dollars? I'd sure as hell call it something more than that." Her hands trembled.
"Calm down, baby girl. That's where the homeowner wanted to go and I obliged. Sure, I spent a little more than I planned, but I had him in the palm of my hand. He even wants a pool."
"But—"
"I sold him a fire pit, a large patio, complete with block wall to separate that area from the pool, and lots of plants and sod." Evan continued to babble. "This job is going to more than cover what I spent when all is said and done."
Cassie held up her hands to halt the conversation. Didn't he see the obvious? How could money be made when he spent everything before he earned it?
"Evan, I'm really happy you're finding customers for our services, but this uncontrolled spending must stop. You're incurring more debt than we have cash to cover. At least wait until we make some money before you go wild?"
He scratched his head. Obviously her business ethic differed vastly from his. He simply nodded in agreement then resumed eating like nothing was wrong.
Realizing deep breathing had become a frequent exercise, Cassie gulped in a breath, held it for a moment before letting it out. She forced herself to pick up her fork and resume eating. Everything tasted like cardboard.
She'd said what she needed to say; now she needed a good long run on her treadmill to help her relax. The urge for sex had passed. Before she worked out, she'd have to dust the cobwebs off her machine. Since Evan moved in, she hadn't used it at all.
* * *
Tired from tossing and turning, Cassie rolled out of bed. The evening had turned into a disappointment instead of the romantic night she hoped for. She fought the desire to crawl back between the warm covers, but she had to pick her mom up at the airport. Great timing!
Evan still slept. Cassie wasn't sure what time he came to bed. Their confrontation, and his inability to understand her concerns had left her so stressed that she'd just cleaned up the kitchen, spent some time exercising, then went upstairs. Evan must have stayed up late because it took her forever to fall asleep. She'd heard the muffled sound of the den TV when she'd drifted off.
After a huge stretch and wide yawn, Cassie went into the closet to dress. She raised her leg to slide it into her jeans and groaned. Her bout on the treadmill made her muscles tight and sore. As much as her leg hurt, she managed to pull on her pants while vowing to get back into her workout routine.
The weather had turned cooler, but not cold enough for heavy clothing, so Cass donned a lightweight sweater and opted for tennis shoes. She inched open her drawer and pulled out a pair of socks, then tiptoed out of the bedroom. She wasn't ready for another exhaustive discussion about expenditures. She preferred to greet her mother in at least a semi-good mood.
Halfway down the stairs, Cassie sat to put on her shoes and socks and yelped at the stiffness in her calves. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure she hadn't disturbed Evan, and wondered why she cared. Thoughts of yesterday spun through her mind. Would this business ruin their relationship? Hopefully not, because she really loved Evan…at least the Evan she thought she knew. She didn't like being angry with him or suspecting him of keeping things from her. This rollercoaster of emotions had to stop. Was she overreacting? Maybe she needed to revisit her doctor and see about hormone replacement therapy. As much as she hated to admit, she'd reached the age where women needed it.