Market Street

by Anita Hughes

  Cassie looked at his black eyes. She remembered his white teeth and the dimple on the side of his mouth. “It’s perfect.”

  “Where did you park?” He bent down and kissed her on the lips. “I’m starving.”

  * * *

  “I have a surprise,” Cassie said as they drove through San Francisco. The fog swirled around them. Cassie turned on the headlights and rolled up the windows. “We’re not going straight home.”

  “Cassie.” Aidan’s face turned hard and his lips formed a thin line. “You’re coming home with me.”

  “Of course I am.” Cassie felt her cheeks flush. “I thought we could have a special night, without Isabel or laundry or dishes.”

  “I’ve been traveling for two weeks.” Aidan’s voice was tight.

  “It will be fun, I promise.” Cassie pulled into the driveway of the Mark Hopkins. Uniformed doormen stood at the ornate double doors. Women in long skirts hopped into taxis. Men in suits strolled into the lobby, carrying briefcases and newspapers.

  “What are we doing here?” Aidan didn’t move.

  “I wanted your homecoming to be special,” Cassie said, turning off the engine. “I booked a room for the night, with a couples massage and dinner at Top of the Mark.”

  “The Mark Hopkins, Cassie? Did your mother pay for this?”

  “I’m working.” Cassie’s voice trembled.

  Aidan tapped his fingers on the dashboard. He finally looked at Cassie and smiled. “As long as I have you and a king-sized bed I don’t care where we are. But I’m not putting on a jacket and tie.”

  “We could skip Top of the Mark and order room service,” Cassie volunteered.

  “Deal.” Aidan nodded. “Lead the way.”

  * * *

  Cassie glanced around the hotel lobby at the giant potted palms and the deep red velvet sofas. She remembered coming to the Mark Hopkins as a child and filling her pockets with peppermints. Every New Year’s Eve her mother took her to Top of the Mark and she stood at the window, looking down at the twinkling lights of San Francisco. Sometimes even the fog lay beneath her, and she walked around the restaurant pretending she was in an airplane.

  “Nothing changes,” Cassie said as they waited at the front desk. “I think the bellman has been here my whole life. The wallpaper is exactly the same.”

  “Sometimes I forget I married a San Francisco heiress.” Aidan rested his elbows on the polished marble counter.

  “You’ll love it.” Cassie blushed. “The rooms have wonderful views, you feel like you’re in an airplane.”

  “I was in an airplane for twenty hours. I want to be in bed.”

  “We’ll be in bed,” Cassie promised. “I’ll rub your back and massage your feet.”

  “That sounds better.” Aidan put his hand on the small of her back. He rang the bell and tapped his fingers on the counter.

  “Miss Fenton, lovely to see you.” The desk clerk approached them. “We have a gorgeous room on the eighteenth floor. Please sign here, and give your mother my best. She came in for tea last week, she’s never looked better.”

  “I’ll tell her.” Cassie signed the slip and took the gold room key.

  “Sean will show you to your room. Let me know if I can be of assistance.”

  * * *

  “Christ, Cassie. He called you Miss Fenton. I think we should stick to our side of the bay,” Aidan said when they were alone in the hotel room.

  The bed was covered in a velvet bedspread and there were heavy gold curtains on the window. Cassie put her purse on the bedside table and looked down on the street. She watched cable cars glide down the hill like pieces in a toy train set.

  “He’s known me since I was in the fifth grade.” Cassie had her back to Aidan. She suddenly felt this was a bad idea. They should be home eating soup and brussels sprouts from her garden.

  “I’m being grumpy.” Aidan pulled her against his chest. “I’m just hungry.”

  “I can order room service.”

  “Tell them to bring up a couple of steaks and baked potatoes.” Aidan fingered the thin straps of her dress. “But have them deliver it in an hour. I want to savor you first.”

  * * *

  Cassie spent a long time in the bathroom brushing her hair at the mirror. She unzipped her dress and slipped on the silk robe hanging in the closet. When she walked into the bedroom, Aidan was already in bed, naked against the satin pillows.

  “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, tugging the robe off her shoulder. He untied the belt and let the robe drop to the floor. She stood at the foot of the bed and he pressed his mouth against her nipples, rubbing her thighs with his free hand.

  Suddenly Cassie froze. She closed her eyes and saw Molly Payne as clearly as if she was in the room. She let out a little gasp and Aidan pressed himself harder against her, clutching her buttocks with both hands.

  Cassie squeezed her eyes tightly and Aidan’s hands moved over her body, touching all the familiar places. He put his hand between her legs, stroking her with his fingers, and she felt her knees buckle.

  Aidan pulled her down on the bed and kissed her breasts. He kept his fingers between her thighs, rubbing her with his thumb until she thought she would explode. She gripped his shoulders and he climbed on top of her, gently opened her legs, and plunged himself inside her.

  After he came, holding her fiercely and rocking back and forth, Cassie lay facedown on the pillow. Aidan sleepily draped his arm over her back and she felt a jolt like an electric current. She closed her eyes, wondering how anything could feel so good and how she had managed four months without it.

  * * *

  They were awakened by the buzz of the doorbell. Cassie slipped on her robe and opened the door. A uniformed bellboy rolled in a cart holding dinner plates covered with silver domes, a basket of bread rolls, and a bucket of cold champagne.

  “I admit this was a good idea.” Aidan sat on the bed, cutting a thick slab of filet mignon.

  “Being in bed with you is a good idea.” Cassie bit into a soft herb bread roll. She felt light and happy. It was dark outside and the only noise in the room was silverware scraping against porcelain plates. Aidan poured the champagne and she watched bubbles rise to the tops of the crystal flutes.

  “Being anywhere with you is perfect.” Aidan cut his baked potato, covering each half with a pat of butter.

  “Tell me about the conference,” Cassie said, taking a sip of her champagne.

  “Florence is beautiful, I could spend days at the Palazzo Medici.” Aidan ate a large bite of steak. “Verona was charming: laundry hanging out of windows, tiny cars that looked like they belonged in a toy box.”

  “You went to Verona?” Cassie asked.

  “They arranged some day trips.” Aidan shrugged. “I was too lonely to enjoy them. Next year we will travel together: Florence, Rome, Venice. They loved the paper, Cassie. I’m going to expand it into a book.”

  “That’s wonderful!” She smiled, then drained her glass. The bubbles seemed to sink straight to her toes.

  “I’ll be very busy this summer. I’ll need your help editing and making sure Isabel stays out of trouble.”

  “I’m not quitting Fenton’s,” Cassie replied, putting her champagne flute on the silver tray.

  “The grand opening is over,” Aidan said quietly. He finished his steak and placed the fork on the plate. “Turn it over to your mother or Alexis or that architect.”

  “The food emporium is mine, and it’s just getting on its feet.”

  “Are you saying you’re going to spend twelve hours a day at Fenton’s?” Aidan demanded.

  “I’ll be home by five o’clock.” Cassie tried to keep her voice even. She avoided Aidan’s eyes and looked at her plate. “I’ll edit at night.”

  “Cassie.” Aidan moved the tray off the bed and took her hands. “Look at your mother. She didn’t remarry; she never had time for you. I’m trying to tell you I love you.”

  “I love you.” Cassie gulped. “I ca
n do both. It won’t interfere with our lives.”

  “What about Isabel?”

  “Alexis needs an assistant, Isabel would be perfect. She can drive in with me.” Cassie fiddled with her robe.

  “It would be good for Isabel to have a real job.” Aidan nodded thoughtfully. “This can be a pivotal summer in a girl’s life. There are so many temptations, she needs something to focus on.”

  “Isabel has a real fashion sense, I think she’d enjoy it,” Cassie agreed. “And Alexis is a drill sergeant, she’d work her hard.”

  Aidan took a sip of champagne and kissed Cassie on the mouth. He untied her robe and slipped his hand between her thighs.

  “I knew I married well.” He pulled her down on the bed. “Beautiful and smart. How did I get so lucky?”

  * * *

  Cassie heard her phone vibrate and stumbled into the bathroom to answer it.

  “I have some exciting news,” Alexis announced.

  “What time is it?” Cassie asked. She glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was tousled and her cheeks were flushed. Her lips were slightly swollen as if she’d been stung by a bee.

  “It’s ten o’clock. I’ve been in the store for two hours. Where are you?”

  “At the Mark Hopkins with Aidan. The curtains are so heavy I thought it was still nighttime.”

  “You have that thick, sex-coated voice. I’m guessing it was a successful reunion?”

  “Better than riding a bike.” Cassie giggled. “We had a wonderful dinner and drank a bottle of champagne. Aidan was so sweet, he really missed me.”

  “Of course he missed you, you’re his angel. Princess Giselle rented the penthouse apartment at the St. Regis. Ten thousand feet of postmodern white furniture, your mother would love it.”

  “That’s wonderful, but I should go. Aidan might wake up any minute.”

  “That’s not the news,” Alexis interrupted. “I convinced her to have a house-warming dinner party, something intimate but with the crème of San Francisco society. She’s going to buy all the ingredients from Fenton’s.”

  “That is exciting.” Cassie closed the bathroom door quietly.

  “Vanessa and Billy already said yes. She invited Gina Pell and Allison Speer and the sweet young publisher of 7X7.”

  “Alexis, that’s fantastic. It’ll be written up all over the city.”

  “There’s one small thing.” Alexis hesitated. “Princess Giselle’s schedule is practically full. The only free night she has for the next few months is tonight.”

  “She wants to have the dinner party tonight!” Cassie spluttered.

  “We sent out evites last night. I’m sure everyone will say yes. Monday nights are deadly quiet. It’s such an amazing apartment—360 degrees of the city—it’s going to cement Giselle’s reputation.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I raved about what a food guru you are,” Alexis said guiltily. “Giselle wants you to pick out the ingredients.”

  “I can’t leave Aidan alone in bed,” Cassie replied. “He’d never forgive me.”

  “Grab a cab; you can be here in five minutes. Tell Aidan to catch up on CNN,” Alexis pleaded.

  “Aidan is fast asleep. He has terrible jet lag.”

  “Even better!” Alexis exclaimed. “When Carter has jet lag he sleeps for days. You could blast a foghorn in his ear and he’d never wake up. Aidan won’t know you’re gone.”

  Cassie opened the bathroom door and looked at Aidan sleeping. He lay on his stomach, his arms splayed across the pillows, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

  “Maybe I could come for an hour,” Cassie hesitated.

  “Giselle is all booked up after noon: hairdresser, massage, pedicure, and facial.”

  Cassie glanced at the clock on the bathroom wall. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. But I can’t be gone long. If Aidan wakes up I’m going to turn into a pumpkin.”

  * * *

  The taxi pulled in front of Fenton’s as Cassie tried to tame her hair into a ponytail. She had applied mascara and blush and rubbed Tiger lip balm on her mouth. She stepped off the escalator and found Alexis and Giselle sampling organic milk at the dairy counter.

  “There you are.” Alexis kissed her on the cheek. “Giselle loves the organic milk, she says it tastes just like the milk she drank growing up in Liechtenstein. Giselle is in your hands. Remember we want the dinner to be over the top: caviar, oysters, escargot.”

  Giselle followed Cassie like an obedient puppy. She accepted all of Cassie’s suggestions and filled the cart with snails, braised duck, black olives, herb cream cheese, and rounds of fresh baked bread. Every so often she stopped in front of a mirror to check her lipstick and finger the Bulgari diamond necklace around her neck.

  Cassie forgot about Aidan asleep at the hotel and began to enjoy herself. She pictured Vanessa Getty and Jennifer Newsom exchanging chitchat over duck pâté and stone-ground wheat crackers. She imagined crystal salad bowls bursting with butter lettuce, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, and shiitake mushrooms. She saw platters of crudités and pots of mustard and artichoke hummus. She pictured Gina Pell sipping a private label Cabernet and saying she must run home and blog about Fenton’s on Splendora.

  “Oooh.” Alexis joined them at the cash register. “It looks like you’ve been busy. Let me snap a couple of photos of Giselle at the checkout.” She took her iPhone out of her purse. “Show those lovely white teeth. Don’t you love Giselle’s dress?” She turned to Cassie. “It’s from Zac Posen’s runway collection. Giselle wore it to the Fiske gallery opening and they’ve flown out of the store. I just had to reorder.”

  Cassie watched the cashier ring up jars of caviar and bottles of port. Giselle handed him her black card and walked to the full-length mirror, making a full turn and admiring her red spandex minidress and five-inch Bottega Veneta wedges.

  “Isn’t Giselle the best?” Alexis whispered. “She uses that AmEx like a library card. Darling”—she turned to Giselle—“I’ll have Kitty deliver these goodies to the apartment. I picked out a few hostess gowns for the dinner party. I want you to choose your favorite.”

  Cassie watched them glide up the escalator and exhaled a sigh of relief. She walked over to the coffee bar to grab a quick espresso before she returned to the hotel. She pictured Aidan in bed, his thick chest covered with gray hair, and felt suddenly happy. It felt good to lie next to him, to laugh with him, to feel his arms around her.

  Cassie saw the girl as she stirred a sugar cube in her coffee. She was standing at the top of the stairs, clutching a magazine. She had feathery blond hair and wore a red T-shirt. The girl saw Cassie and her eyes narrowed. She waved the magazine and descended the staircase toward her.

  “Hi, do you remember me?” The girl stood so close Cassie could smell her spearmint chewing gum.

  Cassie recognized the big brown eyes and the smattering of freckles on her cheeks. Her stomach lurched and she spilled coffee on the marble floor. “Molly Payne. What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, God,” Molly’s voice wavered. “I knew it was you.” She opened the magazine. “My roommate gets San Francisco magazine and she showed me the article about the opening of the emporium. I’m such a bad person. I’m going straight to hell.” She started crying.

  “Please, not in front of the customers.” Cassie pulled Molly’s sleeve and led her to a table by the bookshelf.

  Molly sat down and put her elbows on the table. She flipped the pages and looked plaintively at Cassie. “I didn’t know Professor Blake was married. I knew he had a daughter, I saw pictures of her in his office, but I thought he was divorced. You have to believe me, I never would have done it if I knew he was married.” She wailed like a little girl caught pocketing a tube of lip gloss at a 7-Eleven.

  “Aidan told me what happened.” Cassie took a deep breath.

  “I saw your photo in the article,” Molly interrupted, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “‘Cassie Blake, heiress to Fenton’s and
wife of ethics professor Aidan Blake.’” She jammed her finger at the page. “I’m worse than those reality stars who sleep with their cousins. I’ll never have a happy day in my life, I’m a terrible sinner.” She put her head on the table and sobbed uncontrollably.

  “Molly.” Cassie waited until the sobs subsided into hiccups. “Aidan explained that afternoon. You’d been jilted; Aidan did something nice for you. It was a terrible thing to do, but it was one time. Aidan and I are okay now. He just returned from Greece and we had a wonderful reunion.”

  Molly lifted her head and looked at Cassie as if she was speaking a foreign language. “It wasn’t one time, I loved him. I knew it was wrong, the whole student/professor thing. But he was so sexy. Sort of an older lion in the jungle, beating his chest and calling my name when he came.” Molly put her hand over her mouth and stared at Cassie, horrified. “Oh, God, I didn’t mean to say that. But I thought he loved me, until he left me with an unused plane ticket and took his TA to Italy instead of me.”

  Cassie felt a chill pass through her body. Her hands froze and a sharp pain shot through her spine. She looked closely at Molly and tried to keep her voice steady. “What are you talking about?”

  “He invited me to this conference in Italy. It sounded so romantic. Riding the gondola in Venice, visiting Verona. I got an evening job to pay for my ticket. I bought some really cute sandals.” Molly’s shoulders started shaking. “A week before the trip he told me he didn’t think it was a good idea. He said he’d be too distracted and everyone would know we were fucking. A couple of days ago I saw pictures of him and his TA on my roommate’s Facebook page. They were sharing tongues at a café in Florence. There were dozens of photos: dancing, canoodling, drinking ouzo in Athens. He took her to Athens!” Molly wept harder. “He said Athens was his great love and he wanted to take me there because I was so important to him.”

  “Are you sure it was him?” Cassie asked. Her brain felt like a pinball machine. Her palms were sweating and she had trouble getting air into her lungs.

  “Of course it was him.” Molly rolled her eyes. “I’d been screwing him for three months, I knew every inch of his body. Oh, God, I’m sorry, I keep forgetting whom I’m talking to. I’ve been crying to my roommate for two days. She went to high school with the TA. Her name is Penny; she’s really sweet, and has the prettiest blond hair, like Barbie. To give her credit she didn’t know anything about me.” Molly sighed. “Penny told my roommate she found a text from his wife, saying she couldn’t wait till he came home. And then yesterday I saw the picture of you in the newsletter and the whole thing fell together like the worst New York Times crossword puzzle. You’re his wife, you’re Cassie Blake, and I am the lowest form of human life.” Molly sobbed.