Last One Home

Once back at her apartment, Cassie set her purse aside and sank into the nearest chair. Her friends meant well. This was her own fault for not having the heart to disappoint them. It was a good thing Amiee was out, because Cassie felt close to losing control. She had the urge to cry, but knew what tears would do to her mascara. If that wasn’t bad enough, the headache that had been threatening now arrived with reinforcements. Her temples throbbed.

The doorbell rang and Cassie stared at it for a full thirty seconds before she found the courage to answer it.

Steve stood on the other side of the screen, dressed in a suit, looking more handsome than she could ever remember seeing him. His hair was combed back and he was clean-shaven, exposing a dimple in his chin—one she’d never noticed before. His eyes widened with appreciation when he saw her. He held a clear plastic flower box in his hand. Inside was a pink rosebud corsage with a silver bow. He cleared his throat and released a low whistle. “Wow.”

“Don’t,” she demanded.

“Don’t?”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“That was a compliment,” he said, and then added, “Are you going to let me in or not?”

Cassie felt tears gather at the corner of her eyes. “I can’t.”

“Let me in?” he asked, clearly confused.

“Do this,” she said, as if the answer should have been obvious.

“Do what?”

Cassie didn’t understand why he was being so dense. “I can’t go to dinner with you. This is wrong. This isn’t me and you might think … I’m sorry, Steve.”

He ran a hand distractedly through his neatly combed hair, ruffling it in a way that made him all the more striking and attractive. Another woman would have tossed open the door, grabbed him by his tie, and jerked him inside so fast it would have half strangled him.

He frowned. “I thought you wanted to talk?”

“I did … I do, but not now.”

His look darkened. “Are you saying you don’t want to go to dinner with me?”

She nodded, nearly choking on the knot in her throat. “Another time, please.”

“Tomorrow?”

Even that sounded far too soon. She shook her head.

“Are you feeling all right?” he asked. “This isn’t like you, Cassie.”

She was all too aware of how weak and out of control she sounded. She couldn’t imagine what he must be thinking. “Please, just go.”

He backed away a couple of steps. “If that’s what you want.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Quit saying that.”

“Sorry.” She wrapped her fingers around the side of the door and slowly closed it.

“Call me when you’re ready to talk, okay?”

She nodded and shut the door. As it clicked into place, she had the strongest notion that she was closing the door on far more than one night.

Chapter 29

Cassie wasn’t sure what to tell her friends after the fact, especially since they’d all put such effort into the beautification project.

When she arrived at the salon Monday morning, she expected to be bombarded with questions. Teresa, Rosie, and Bridget were sure to want a minute-by-minute description of her romantic date with Steve.

Sure enough, as soon as she arrived, her friends fell in behind Cassie like she was the Pied Piper.

“Well,” Bridget demanded. “Don’t keep us in suspense. How did your hot date go?”

“Was I right?” Rosie asked. “Did he have a diamond ring in his pocket?”

Cassie never was sure where Rosie got that idea, unless it came from Amiee.

“Um …” She did her best to avoid eye contact, then squared her shoulders, ready to face their disappointment.

Teresa threw out her arms, warning off the others. “Give the girl some breathing room, you two. Okay, Cassie, what happened?”

“We didn’t go.”

All three of her friends gasped.

“He canceled?” Rosie asked, after a moment of shocked silence.

“No, I did.”

“You did?” all three cried in unison.

“It’s a long story, and if you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss it.”

Bridget wasn’t going to let this matter drop easily. “What did he do?”

“Bridget,” Teresa whispered, steering the hairstylist away from Cassie. “Leave it be. Cassie will tell us when she’s good and ready.”

Cassie thanked her friend with a look and a gentle sigh. The problem was explaining to her coworkers what she had yet to fully understand herself. She wasn’t shy, nor was she inclined to emotionally crumble at the least provocation. Since leaving Duke she had overcome every obstacle, tackling it all head-on. In a matter of a few years she’d forged a new life for herself and her daughter. She’d learned a trade, helped build houses, reached out to family, and she’d done all this without thinking twice. But when it came to falling in love she was a quivering mess, second-guessing herself, second-guessing Steve. Uncertain. Afraid. Lost.

Cassie made it through the rest of the workday, doing her best to keep her spirits up and her customers happy.

She wasn’t needed at the construction site because at this stage a skilled craftsman was installing the electrical system. So for a change, she could go straight home from work.

“Mom.” Amiee glanced up when Cassie walked in the door. Her daughter sat in front of the television with her legs braced against the edge of the cushion, knees tucked under her chin, eating a bowl of breakfast cereal. “You’re home early.”

Cassie set aside her things and walked over to her daughter, hugging her close from behind.

“Mom?” Amiee set aside the bowl, unwound her legs, and stood. It was the same owl look her coworkers had given her.

Cassie hadn’t told Amiee anything more than what she’d told the girls at Goldie Locks.

“Are you ready to tell me why you didn’t go to dinner with Steve?”

“Not yet.”

For once in her life Amiee looked like she was at a loss for words. “Did you have a bad day … like yesterday?”

“Something like that.”

“Steve called. He said he tried to reach you but you didn’t pick up.”

“I was at work. It isn’t like I can chat when I’m doing someone’s color treatment.” To be fair, Steve had tried to contact her when she normally took her lunch break, but Cassie hadn’t been ready to talk to him, and frankly she would rather not have that conversation in front of her coworkers.

“Are you going to call him back?”

“Of course.”

Amiee’s gaze followed her as Cassie wandered into the kitchen.

“When? You should do it soon. He sounded anxious to talk to you.”

“I’ll connect with him soon. Let it be, okay?” She needed to clear her head before they spoke.

Amiee set her cereal bowl aside. “Are you mad at him? Did he do something bad that you don’t want to tell me?”

“Steve didn’t do anything wrong,” Cassie assured her daughter.

Amiee’s gaze narrowed. “You’re just saying that, aren’t you? He did but you don’t want to tell me.” Her daughter walked a full circle around their sofa.

“Would you please listen to me?” Cassie pleaded. “Steve didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who canceled our date.”

From the way Amiee continued to pace the area it was clear she didn’t believe her.

Cassie was about to sit her daughter down and explain what had happened as best she could when someone pounded against their front door. She guessed it was Steve, and she was right.

She answered the door, and for a long moment all they did was stare at each other. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” he asked. “I left you three messages.”

“Is that Steve?” Amiee demanded.

Steve came into the apartment. “It’s me,” he said, but he kept his gaze focused on Cassie.

Before Cassie was aware of what Amiee intended, her daughter walked up and kicked Steve in the shins. Hard.