“Sure you do,” Val tells me with a sneer. “I didn’t know you were doing daytime whoring now. I thought you were limiting yourself to evening hours. If you end up pregnant, I’m not raising a baby. I’ve told you that. I’ve had my fill of diapers, late nights, and no appreciation. Your father made sure of that.”
Her words hit a little too close to home, but I keep from confessing the extent of my “whoring” and start digging in the fridge. “Thanks for that bit of heartfelt advice.” The thought of Val with a grandchild makes me shudder.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you changin’ the subject.” Val leans back in her chair. It’s the same rickety one she sat in the entire time I was growing up. She pushes the thing back on two legs and hangs her skinny arms off the back. The only thing missing now is her once constant cigarette. She quit smoking a few years ago once she realized sucking on those things really was giving her some pretty prominent wrinkles. They may have kept her thin, but it’s harder to pick up a new boyfriend every three months with a pucker like that, apparently.
“I didn’t change the subject. You did,” I remind her. “Do you at least have bread or something? If this turkey isn’t too old we can make sandwiches.”
“Forget about the sandwiches. Tell me about this wedding. Mexico, right?’
I get a worrisome feeling in my belly. I haven’t told Val anything about Julia’s wedding and there are a million reasons to keep her in the dark. Aside from the plethora of chances she’d have to remind me of my old maid status and other failures to snag a man, there’s the possibility of her being rude in some way to Julia or her family. Now, with the addition of Graham, I have no intention of chatting about anything wedding-related.
“Where did you hear about the wedding?” I keep my face in the fridge, repeatedly rearranging the three vegetables in the crisper. Val isn’t big on green stuff.
“I ran into Francine at Kroger’s. She told me all about it. Seems like a fun vacation.”
“It isn’t really a vacation. We’re going to be busy.” I can already tell where this is going. I’m sure Julia’s mother was just making small talk, but I wish I’d thought to tell her to keep any details from Val. She’s forgotten the cardinal rule: Keep Val Blake as uninformed as possible or deal with the consequences.
Val sets her mouth in a hard line. “You aren’t going to have any time for the beach or sightseeing? Nothing like that?”
“Nope.”
“Um hum.” She doesn’t believe me. “You bringin’ a plus one?”
I lift my head out of the refrigerator to give her a look. “Of course not.”
“Don’t want to commit yourself to one man for more than a day? I get it.”
I glare at her. “That would be a pretty expensive date, don’t you think? Taking some guy to Mexico?”
“Aren’t Fran and Steve picking up the tab?”
“For everyone’s travel expenses? No.” I marvel at Val’s understanding of the world.
“They expect everyone to pay their own way? That’s tacky.” Val seems more than a little smug in her pronouncement.
“That’s how destination weddings work, Mama. You can’t expect the bride’s family to pay for everything. And I think Julia and Zach are paying for this themselves. They offered to help me out with expenses but I can swing it on my own.” I say that last bit with more pride than necessary—but my mother doesn’t notice. Me being able to pay my own way might impress a less narcissistic parent, but it doesn’t even make Val think twice.
“Well, tell them you need their help and then bring me as your plus one,” Val suggests, still balanced on the back two legs of her chair. “It could be a mother daughter trip.”
A mother daughter trip? Is she insane? When I was a kid the idea of my mother and I taking a trip together would have made my year, my life, maybe. I would have loved for her to invite me to do just about anything. Instead, when Val had the chance to get out of town she went with a man. None of them would appreciate her dragging a “brat” along. I was left at home with a box of cereal and strict instructions not to burn the house down. Val was always either desperately looking for a new man or chasing after one she’d lost—things I promised myself I’d never do.
“I’m not bringing you to Mexico,” I state flatly.
My mother’s face begins to twist. “I’m not bringing you to Mexico,” she mimics back at me. “After all I’ve done for you, you won’t even bring me on a free trip.”
“It isn’t free! And I’ve told you, I’m going to be busy with wedding stuff.”
“Well, I’m sure I could find a way to entertain myself,” Val informs me. “If you were busy and all. And aren’t there other girls in the wedding who could do stuff while you and I go out? I already bought a new bikini.”
I’m absolutely sure I would rather poke my eyes out with a stick than accompany my mother out in her new bikini. “Not really. Julia’s only got me and Graham.” I leave out the part about Zach having sisters. Too late I realize that I should have left out the part about Graham instead.
“Julia’s got Graham, does she? She’s marrying someone else and she’s still got that boy running around. You have to admit she’s good. Probably never going to set that one free.”
I poke my head back behind the open fridge door and let the cold air take some of the heat from my face. I’m basically air conditioning the entire kitchen at this point, but I can’t risk letting my mother see any trace of how her words have affected me. If she gets even an inkling of something, she won’t let it go and I’ll be in for more torture.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend who could take you on a trip?” I ask to divert attention back to Val.
“Ricky?” she asks. So that’s the new one’s name. “He don’t like the beach and anyway he’d probably want to go someplace like Panama City or something. Nothing exotic like Mexico.”
“He sounds like a winner,” I interject before I can stop myself.
“Well, at least I’ve got someone hanging around for more than five minutes. I don’t see you with some fabulous man hangin’ off your arm. And Ricky’s cute. Steady job. Keeps his truck clean.”
“He’s a catch then. I stand corrected.” Although, if the past is any indicator Ricky will turn out to be somewhat toothless and that truck will belong to his mother. “Are we making sandwiches or what?”
“You can make a sandwich for yourself if you’re hungry. I’m trying to make sure I fit into that new swimsuit. You should maybe start worrying about that as well.” Val reaches over to pinch at my thighs. “And you think about what I said about Mexico. It’d be a nice thing to do for your mama.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say and that placates her a bit.
“At least you remember your manners. I made sure I taught you those.”
Certainly wouldn’t want to forget my manners, even if I would like to forget everything else she taught me.
19
Graham
“I’m looking for Cassidy Blake. She’s a nurse here?”
The woman behind the desk gives me the once over before answering. “She’s a nurse here.”
“Is she here today? I wanted to say hello. I was in the building.” I try to add one of my award-winning smiles to thaw the ice, but this woman is somehow immune to my charm.
“You were in the building?”
“Yeah, on the fifth floor.” I’m reluctant to give out too much information. Even if I’m no longer with the team I still ask them to schedule me for hospital visits. I always loved doing the outreach stuff. Not so much the corporate events, but the things with kids? For those I’m all in. Today I’ve been with a few other players visiting kids recovering from cancer treatment, signing things and taking photos. But it isn’t my place to talk about that with this nurse and if she doesn’t recognize me then it makes even less sense to say anything. I don’t do it to be able to brag about it.
“I see,” she says. She’s older and looks like she isn’t in the habit of tak
ing shit from anybody. She and Cassie must be an extremely angry team.
“So, Cassie,” I remind her. “Is she here today?” I know she’s at work because she told me this morning when I left her apartment that she was going to be here. We’re in the sleep over stage now thank God, but she’s still holding firm on the no actual dates thing. I’m trying to move slowly. Trying not to scare her. Showing up at work was an impulsive decision I’m starting to regret.
“Do you see her here?” The nurse gestures around with her arm.
“Well, no. But you’re the only nurse I see and while I’m sure you could run this floor all by yourself, I don’t think that’s hospital regulation.”
She smiles a little at my compliment, but doesn’t make any move to help me out. If she knows where Cassie is, she isn’t telling.
“This is the right floor, isn’t it? This is where I usually send things.”
“You send things?” Her eyebrows shoot up.
“Sometimes. When she’s mad at me.” I lean against the counter. She’s interested. “Which is frequently.”
The woman laughs. “I can see that.” She pulls her glasses off her face and tucks them down the front of her scrubs. “You send the cupcakes?” she asks, pretending to rifle through some files in front of her.
“Yeah. Cassie share those?”
“You think she had a choice?” she asks and I laugh. “You should send more of those,” she tells me, giving the counter a tap.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure I’ll need to apologize to her sooner rather than later.”
She gives me a cluck cluck. “Don’t let her scare you off. She’s not as tough as she acts.”
“Don’t worry. I can handle tough.”
“I imagine you can. If I see her, I’ll tell her you stopped by…” she tapers off, waiting for me to introduce myself.
I extend my hand. “Graham.” I leave off my last name, not that this woman will recognize me. And even if she did, she doesn’t seem like the type to care.
“Well, nice to finally meet you, Graham. I’m Delia. I’ll be sure to mention our conversation to Cassie if she turns up tonight.” She’s grinning from ear to ear.
“I’d appreciate it. Nice meeting you as well. I won’t keep you; I’m sure you have things to get back to.” I make my way back down the hall so Cassie can come out from wherever she’s hiding and get back to work.
But before I can get through the double doors I hear Delia’s loud cackle. “Good lord, Cassie! That’s who you’re running from?” I don’t bother turning around. I just keep walking, the smile on my face bright enough to light the whole hallway.
I make a mental note to send Delia those cupcakes. At least a dozen.
20
Cassie
“You can’t keep changing the rules.”
“Changing the rules?” Graham rolls his eyes. “I’m just following the rules we agreed to when we started.”
I narrow my eyes at him. I know a lie when I hear one and no amount of Graham Stevens charm is going to change that. “We both agreed that if you land on any of the blue properties it would be additional clothing. I own Boardwalk and I’ve already got a hotel on it so there’s no way you can only take off one sock.”
“Hmmm,” he stalls, acting like he’s mulling it over. “But I’m down to almost nothing over here, Firecracker.”
“That’s the point of strip Monopoly, genius.” I cross my arms over my chest. I’ve already lost my scrub top but I’m still wearing my bra—a purple lacy number that I would never have worn to work if I hadn’t planned on coming straight to Graham’s house after. And you can bet that the panties under these scrub pants match although it is taking forever for this big reveal. Strip Monopoly has taken longer than anticipated to get to the stripping part. “Two articles of clothing, please, and make it snappy.”
Graham peels off his left sock and spins it over his head. When he lets it go, it thumps directly into my lap. He really doesn’t have many choices left. He started out wearing fewer items of clothing but I’m not cutting him any slack. He’s terrible at Monopoly and I’m taking full advantage.
“Next time we play I’m making sure we start out evenly matched,” Graham says.
“Good luck with that,” I snort. “There’s no way you’d even beat me at this game.”
“Sure I would. I even have extra incentive because I’m dying to see what’s going on under those pants.” He tugs off his remaining sock, leaving him only in his boxer briefs. “Happy now?”
“Extremely.” I try to ignore the way he stretches out his legs, almost touching me with his toes. If I’m going to beat the world’s most competitive man, I cannot get distracted. We’re sitting on his bed having one of the best Saturday evenings I’ve ever had and that’s saying a lot. We’ve been spending plenty of nights together, all of them fabulous in a way that makes my stomach nervous.
I pick up the dice and blow on them for luck, noticing the way Graham’s pupils dilate as he watches me. I try to concentrate on the game board, block out the hungry way he’s looking at me and the close proximity of all those muscles. I move the top hat a few spaces forward.
“I didn’t think it would be this fun to crush you in Monopoly but it is strangely satisfying.” Besting Graham at anything is worth waiting a little longer to get my hands on him.
“That’s probably because you didn’t think you’d be able to get me naked this fast.”
“There are faster ways to get you naked.” I look up from the board. “I will admit strip Monopoly was not something I thought was a thing, but since it’s the only board game you have…”
“We could watch another movie.” Graham gives me a smile and that hopeful face I find hard to resist. “Or we could do something else.”
I try not to let my eyes slide over his naked chest or the obvious bulge in his boxers. But the way he says it is so dirty sounding I have trouble keeping my head down. “You only want to quit because you’re so obviously losing.” I busy my hands rearranging my stacks of play money.
“What?” He makes a show of acting wounded. “Are you calling me a quitter? Me? Graham Stevens, master of the comeback?” He clutches his chest.
“Settle down over there. Maybe you’re not as committed to board games as you are to football.” I give him a dismissive wave. “Do you want to order dinner in?” I ignore the smile that spreads over Graham’s face.
“You can stay for dinner?” The excitement in his voice is hard to miss.
“Yes, actually.” My work schedule means I can’t always stay no matter how much I might want to. And lately I’ve been really, really wanting to. More than I should if I’m trying to keep my distance and convince Graham that this will never work. “My next shift isn’t until Monday. I can beat you at this game all weekend.”
The way Graham’s face lights up hits me directly in the chest. I will never get tired of the unabashed excitement that takes over his features when I’ve made him happy. He’s got no poker face and I’ve never been more grateful for that as the idea of an entire weekend here with him starts a few flutters in my belly. There are way better uses for this bed and I’m ready to get to them as soon as I finish schooling him in this game.
“Okay. I want to buy this railroad. And I want to put another hotel over there. Can you give me one?” I hold my hand out, waiting for the plastic piece.
But Graham doesn’t even bother pretending to give me another hotel, instead he reaches forward, takes my hand, and pulls me into his lap. The game board goes flying, plastic pieces sliding under the bed and skittering all over the bedroom floor. I yelp but don’t bother pulling back. Graham ends up flat on his back with me sprawled out on top of him, my breasts smashed up against his chest. My face is inches from his and I stare into his eyes, barely able to breathe. For a few beats neither of us blinks.
“That was cheating,” I whisper.
“It was,” he whispers back. “But it was worth it. Game’s over.”
La
ter that night, as we watch When Harry Met Sally for the fifth time, I slide my bare feet under Graham’s thighs. He startles but lets my feet stay there, tucked underneath him.
“You cold? Want a blanket?”
“No.” What I want is to touch him but I don’t want to have to say that.
He grunts and gives me a quick glance. “Here. Put those in my lap.” He wrestles my feet out from under him and puts them on his massive thighs. One big hand closes around my left foot, the thumb pressing along the arch.
I can’t stifle the groan that makes its way out of my mouth.
Graham chuckles but doesn’t stop pressing along the bottom of my foot, his other hand starting to massage the foot as well. “That okay?” he asks, the light from the big screen TV flickering on his face in the dark.
“That is more than okay. That is criminally good. Please, don’t stop doing whatever it is you’re doing.” My head involuntarily rolls back onto the couch cushion.
Graham shifts on the couch, turning toward me. “You’re on your feet all day. It’s important to take care of them. Is that too much pressure?”
“No, just right, but you can’t see the TV facing like that,” I tell him, although I’m hoping he doesn’t stop moving his hands.
“How many times have we seen this movie? I don’t think I need to give it my undivided attention.” He keeps his eyes focused on me, his thumbs running along the bottom of my foot in a way that has my eyes rolling back in my head. When he reaches for the right foot, I pull it out of his grasp.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I can’t do just one foot, Cassie. You have two.” He motions for me to give it back.
“But…”
I try to keep my foot out of his grasp but with his long arms he easily reaches it.
“But nothing. Let me take care of you for a minute. Seriously, woman, don’t test me.” He tilts his head to the side, daring me to say something.
“Well, you are good at it.”
“Add it to the list.” And that cocky smile’s back, taunting me. I’d scowl, but once those hands start working on my foot again, I don’t have the ability to do anything but try to keep my purring to a minimum. “I like it when you let me be nice to you.”
Forget About It Page 12
