The Henson Brothers: Two Complete Novels (34 page)

Cassie glanced skyward. "Don't be ridiculous."

His eyes flashed but his voice remained level. "You really expect me to believe that you didn't want to introduce me to your family and friends because
I'll
be embarrassed to be with you?" His accent thickened his words. "I used to be that stupid, but now I know it's the other way round. You're scared people will ask about my background or that I'll do something to make you ashamed. I'm good for the back room, but not the front. I don't have Timothy's elegance and polish."

"That's not true. I said I would marry you, didn't I?"

"Through a note. Heaven forbid you would tell me in person where someone else might hear."

She walked toward him, her eyes pleading. "You don't understand."

He stepped back. "I'm tired of going through hoops for you."

"I don't expect you to go through hoops for me."

He walked to the door. "This isn't working."

"I never expected it to," she muttered to his back.

He whirled around, pinning her with his eyes. "Yes, that was the problem from the start. No matter what I did, I was never good enough for you. You never expected me to be around for long and that's why you didn't want to marry me." He stormed to the door.

She grabbed a rolling pin and followed. "You're not leaving until I get a chance to explain."

He opened the door. "I am tired of your explanations."

"You're not leaving."

He lifted an eyebrow in challenge. "How are you going to stop me?"

She slammed the door shut and held up the pin.

He sent her a cool, dark glance. "What are you planning to do, Cassie? Roll me into submission?"

"I'm planning to make you listen," she hissed. "And I don't care how. I won't have you leave thinking that—"

He opened the door again; she closed it. He took a deep breath, fighting a losing battle with his patience. "I'm not in the mood for games and you know I can't hurt you. Let me pass."

"I spent all morning preparing that breakfast for you because I wanted you to know what you meant to me." She threw up her hands. "Didn't it mean anything to you?"

His cold glare left her face and focused on an area above her head. His reply was a whisper. "It meant everything."

"Then is it just me or don't we have something worth fighting for?"

"What exactly do we have? I can't even hold your hand in public and I am continually introduced as your friend even when we're supposedly engaged."

"Let me explain. I—"

He held up his hands. "I don't want an explanation. All you give me are words. You have an explanation for everything."

"If you don't want an explanation, what do you want?"

"I want you to call your mother and tell her that you want her to meet your fiancé."

Cassie shook her head. "That's asking too much. You see—"

"Yes, I do see. I tried to prove myself at the reunion. I tried to show you that I could be cordial and civil when needed. That I wouldn't humiliate you in social situations, but that wasn't enough, was it? I'll never be good enough for you. You tried to warn me, but I was too stupid to listen. So now I'm listening. You wanted to get rid of me from day one. Congratulations, you've succeeded." He bit his lip as if stopping himself from saying more, then walked out the door.

Mr. Gianolo peeked his head out as Drake headed for the elevators. "So when's the wedding?" he asked.

"There isn't going to be one," Drake replied and headed for the stairs.

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

He was back where he had started. In Eugene's Bar with a half-empty mug of beer, the background buzz of voices and the enthusiastic shouts of a sports announcer on TV. He inhaled his cigarette, feeling the smoke burn his lungs.

"You can't keep this up," Eric said. "Since your breakup I haven't seen you without smoke coming out of your mouth."

Drake slowly exhaled, lifting his beer. "What's your point?"

"You need to talk to her. Okay, you've ignored her calls and notes for over two weeks; she's been suitably punished, now mend things."

"I have another date with Brenda tomorrow night."

"Brenda isn't the marrying type."

He tapped his cigarette against the ashtray. "That's fine because I'm not interested in marriage."

* * *

Drake's eyes trailed over the informal elegance of the restaurant. The evening had been pleasant as usual, but for some reason he just wanted it to end. He shouldn't have come... the ghost of Cassie seemed to float around everywhere.

"This place is everything you said," Brenda gushed.

"Hmm."

"The food was fabulous."

"Hmm."

"And the atmosphere—"

"You don't have to go on. This isn't my restaurant."

She smiled and touched his hand. "I know. I'm just so happy that we've had the chance to become reacquainted. I'm sorry about your impending divorce."

Drake inwardly winced at the lie. For some reason he hadn't been able to admit the truth.

Her finger made a slow circle on the back of his hand. "You know I have a place in San Diego where you could relax for a while."

"I—"

She raised the finger to his lips. "Don't say no yet. Just think about it." She glanced up briefly at something, then leaned forward and kissed him—softly but effectively. She wiped her lipstick from his lower lip and stood. "I'm just going to the ladies' room."

Drake paid the bill, then glanced around the restaurant. His eyes stopped on a large crowd listening enraptured to a woman dressed in a cream sweater and red scarf—Cassie. His heart began to race and his fingers itched for the feel of a cigarette. He hadn't brought any with him since Brenda couldn't stand smoking. He turned away, but his eyes involuntarily slid back to her.

She would be here, he thought, mentally kicking himself. This was the same place she had taken his class. The place where he'd flirted with her like a schoolboy with a crush. His eyes fell on one guy who mirrored what his expression had once been. He tapped his fingers against the table trying to forget the feel of her scarf or the warmth of her skin. He had been a fool to think he could claim her when he had been one of many. He scowled and turned away.

* * *

"Cassie," Adriana whispered urgently when the class broke up.

"Yes, I know," she said with a resigned sigh. "Drake's here."

"Don't you care?"

"Should I? He broke up with me. And now he's happy."

"How can you tell?" she demanded.

Cassie pushed papers into her bag. "A sixth sense of mine. I can feel my heart breaking."

Adriana drummed her fingers against her thigh. "Be serious."

"I am being serious. He's with his first love. Brenda Timmons the aerobics guru. They were kissing."

"So?"

If her friend didn't understand, she wasn't in the mood to enlighten her. "I really don't want to talk about this."

"You're unhappy."

"At least he's not. I want him to be happy."

"And I want you to be happy. He should be with you."

Cassie let her bag fall to the floor, annoyed. "Adriana, we can't have both. I have tried to reach him, but he ignores my calls and my notes. It is obvious he wants nothing to do with me. So will you please drop the subject?"

"You haven't done enough to give up yet."

Cassie sat and held her head in her hands, defeated. "What do you expect me to do? Run over hot coals proclaiming my love, lie naked on his windshield—no, that might scare him."

"You teach people to be bold and go after what they want, but you won't do the same."

Cassie's voice was muffled but firm. "I have succeeded in all that I've set out to do."

"Yes, driving away the man you love because you're too afraid to admit that you deserve him."

She lifted her head and stared, incredulous. "Where do you come up with this? Haven't you heard a word I've said? I've
tried
to get him back. He doesn't want me. Do we need a translator?"

"Just listen for a minute. The first day I met you, your mother came to pick you up. She wore this stunning black and white polka-dot dress and big round sunglasses like a movie star. When I asked you if that was your mother you said she was your aunt."

"Okay, so I was a liar."

"No, you were ashamed that you couldn't measure up. It was the same with Timothy, that's why you let him stray. You didn't expect him to treat you right."

"Well, that's a good argument for infidelity. Actually it coincides with his statement that he did it to save the marriage."

"You're not listening. You love Drake and you deserve him. He belongs to you. He's yours, don't let some other woman take him away."

Cassie stared at her for a moment "I'm waiting for a point."

"He doesn't believe you love him. So you have to prove it."

"If you don't get off my back I can prove how fast a friendship can end." She grabbed her bag and headed to the ladies' room. She saw Brenda coming out and stopped.

"What a surprise," Brenda said.

"I see you're here with Drake."

"Yes."

"I hope you have a good time."

"Don't worry, I know how to keep my men."

Cassie watched her go, anger shooting through her veins. Brenda might have Drake, but she'd make his complete surrender difficult.

* * *

Drake felt Brenda's fingers inching their way up his thigh as he drove home and he knew it wasn't going to work. Instead of feeling aroused he felt annoyed. He hadn't changed much, he still didn't like people enough to be civil longer than necessary. For all her intelligence and beauty he always found that he wished to be elsewhere. He would have to end it. It might be a relief to her; he wasn't the most exciting guy to date, hardly responding to any of her invitations. She might even be eager to end the evening.

She smiled at him and whispered, "I'm not wearing any panties."

Then again he'd never been able to read women well.

* * *

The chilly air was invigorating—perfect for his morning jog. He loved the smell of fall mornings, the color of the changing leaves, the sound of the city beginning to wake. A week had passed since he'd seen Cassie in the restaurant and he was doing fine. He was completely over her. Although at quiet unwanted moments he did miss her face, the way she would poke him when making a point, the delicate way she ate. He swore, fiercely trying to control his wayward mind.

"So what did you say?" Eric ordered, breaking into his thoughts. "You don't just stop a story at the point where a woman mentions she's not wearing panties."

"I said then she must be cold and turned up the heat."

Eric pushed up the glasses sliding down his nose. "Are you joking? That's the first thing that came to your mind?"

"No, not the first," he admitted. "But that's what I said."

Eric let out a breath. "I was worried about you for a minute. So you admit you still care for Cassie?"

"I'm over her."

They continued the last lap of their jog in silence. Drake looked at his building and groaned. Great, now he was hallucinating. Cassie was standing right in front of the glass doors with one of her determined looks.

Eric squinted. "Isn't that—"

"Yes."

He spun around. "Talk to you later."

"You don't have to—" But Eric had already jogged away.

Drake slowed his jog to a walk and headed for the door.

Cassie spoke up as he passed her. "I know that I messed up, but I'll do whatever it takes to get you back."

He stopped with his hand on the handle. "Why?"

She stared at him as though the answer was obvious. "Drake, I miss you. I love you."

She loved him. Why the hell did those words mean so much? "Today maybe." He ground his teeth, fighting the need to believe her, and opened the door. "I don't have time for this."

"So you and Brenda are together."

No.
"Yes."

"She may have you, but she'll never love you like I do."

He looked at her, his eyes sharp. "I don't want her to love me. I don't want you to love me. I want you to stop being ashamed of me. Ashamed of who I am or how I act. I want you to give a damn that I'm in your life. Brenda may not love me, but she's made me feel better than you ever did. Romantics like you use love as a weapon because you know how much guys like me—" He turned away.

"Drake, you have to let me explain."

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "I've told you that I've had enough of your explanations. I haven't returned your calls or responded to your notes. In case you haven't noticed, that's a hint that I don't want you in my life." Even as he said the words he hated them, hated how cold they sounded, but he wouldn't be hurt again. "I don't want to see you or hear from you. I want you to go away." He threw a hand in the air. "Disappear. Pretend that we never happened."

"I'm not ashamed of you." She grabbed the front of his shirt, desperate to make him understand despite how his words hurt her. "Give me another chance. I'll show you how much I love you. I'll prove it to you. No more words, just actions. I promise." She smiled weakly. "I haven't sung yet, so this show can't be over."

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