“What?”
“You know. All the folderol that goes with a houseguest. Especially one who’s planning a wedding. I know you hate upheaval. Although you seem more relaxed with it than you usually are. When we had to provide security for the Beggar’s Bay Beauty Pageant, I thought you were going to explode on me. Fuss normally gives you hives, but you’re taking all this like a champion.”
“I promised,” he said, rolling up his copy of their contract. He stood and glanced at his watch. “You ready to go?”
“You have a thing for Cassie?” Ben asked, getting to his feet and elbowing him. “You can tell me.”
Grady opened his mouth to deny it but after Ben’s declaration of friendship, he couldn’t lie. “Yeah,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to talk about it.” He headed for the car.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s personal.”
“I’m like your brother.”
“Don’t say that. It makes her like my sister. Because if she’s Jack’s sister and he’s your brother, and I’m like your brother...”
“Yeah. Complicated. But there’s no blood involved—at least on your part—just a strong...connection. What are you going to do about it?”
They’d reached the car and he gave Ben an impatient look over the roof. “Nothing.”
“Why not? You are an uncivilized so-and-so, but she can help you with that in no time.”
“Hey.”
“No, you’re right,” Ben replied as Grady got into the car. He ducked down to look at him before he continued. “Your problem is that you’re too civilized. You’ve taken all the risky stuff out of the equation for your future. That’s not very appealing to a woman.”
“How would you know?” Grady demanded as Ben got in behind the wheel. “You’ve got one woman, and that only happened because you’re related to her. Sort of.”
Ben frowned at him. “One woman is all we’re allowed, man. You marry two and you go to jail.”
Grady let his head fall back as he pleaded with the heavens for patience. “I meant you’re not exactly the voice of experience. Anyway, I can’t imagine a way Cassie and I could ever be together. Not just geographically but...any way.”
Ben made no effort to start the car. He stared out the windshield and said, “You’ll have to explain that to me.”
“No, I won’t. Let’s just get back to work. Call Dispatch.”
“Would you explain it to me?”
Completely exasperated, Grady swore. “What are you not getting? She’s worth a small fortune. She’s experienced international acclaim. She has the kind of...I don’t know...presence, I guess it is, that suggests she has the confidence of a woman of the world.”
“That all sounds like pluses to me.”
“I’m a cop in a little coastal town in Oregon. My bank account often borrows from my savings account when I overdraw. I traveled around Europe as a kid ’cause of my parents, but not as an adult. I’ve been to Mexico and Canada, but who hasn’t?”
Ben turned in his seat to face him. “And you have the presence of a public servant who cares about everyone around him—unless it’s a woman, then you run. Why? Is it that you don’t want to be hurt again like Celeste hurt you? Because I hate to tell you this, but pain is universal.”
Grady yanked off his BBPD ball cap and ran a hand through his hair. Ben was making his head hurt. “I know there’s no hiding from pain. But isn’t it a betrayal of intelligence to lose yourself in the same game you lost the last time?”
“Well, see, that’s where there is a question, because all women are not the same. Even the beautiful ones. To some it isn’t a game, it’s real. You’re the one that’s always talking about wanting your life to be real. Well, the reality is, some women play with your affections, like your ex-girlfriend, and some women just want to love you and be loved by you.”
Ben shook his head as though unable to find the words to clarify his position. “For all Cassie’s wealth and fame, she seems genuine. She loves all the same people we love. So what if she knows all about elegant stuff we’ve never heard of, and she can command those chandelier things, and fabric from Paris, and flowers from God knows where? She can do that, but she doesn’t act like a goddess because of that. She just looks like one.”
Exhausted though he’d hardly spoken, Grady said quietly, “But she lives in Paris and New York.”
“Wouldn’t you like to get to know those places better than the glimpse of Paris you got as a kid?”
“I live here. And...I can’t see her living here.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t decide that for her. She seems to like it fine in Beggar’s Bay.”
“For a lifetime?”
Ben smiled. “So, you are thinking in those terms?”
“I’m going to tase you in a minute. For the sake of argument, do you think she could live a lifetime in Beggar’s Bay?”
“Maybe she could. Her entire family is here, and if she had a husband and children...”
“Really? Do you see me as a husband? And she has a career that spans continents. Why would she give that up? I mean, she can hop on her father’s plane to visit her family here anytime she wants.”
“Don’t try to read her mind. And don’t close yourself off to what following her around could do for your own life.”
“What about our business? We aren’t even open yet and you’re trying to get rid of your partner?”
“No. I’m just saying, if you have to go with her until she fulfills her contracts, it won’t kill you to see new places and new things. Meet new people. Loosen you up.”
Paris and New York. For long periods. He couldn’t see himself there. Though he’d known she was going back some time after the wedding, he just hadn’t taken the trouble to think deeply about what it meant. Actually, it didn’t require much depth of thought. It meant absence. Loneliness. Loss.
“I think the perfect scenario,” Ben said, cutting into his thoughts, “would be that you follow her until her contracts are fulfilled, learn to speak French, buy a beret, consult knowledgeable Frenchmen about how to love a woman. Conventional wisdom is, they’re the ones who know. Then, when her contract is met and you’re now this accomplished man of style and wisdom, you can come back and resume your place as my partner. We’ll clear those trees behind your property, build some homes back there where the elk hang out so that we have a Palmer-Manning compound and be the happiest damn tribe the world has ever seen. We can leave the elk some salmonberry bushes.”
Pipedream, Grady thought, but aloud he said, “Manning-Palmer-Nelson compound. And there has to be room for my mom.”
“Of course.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CASSIE STUDIED HER REFLECTION. She was wearing the little black dress she’d bought along with her dress for the wedding. She’d gotten that princess feeling she used to get as a little girl when she was all dressed up for a birthday party, or for church.
Despite the glamorous clothes with the high price tags, her work didn’t really give her that. She could make herself look the part, but that princess feeling had to come from inside, from feeling happy.
It still amazed her that she was reunited with her siblings. The happiness that knowledge gave her was impossible to describe. She’d made a decision during a sleepless night that she would fulfill her contracts with Josie and Eterna, and work like a fiend at whatever she could during that period to make enough money so that her foundation would be self-supporting.
Then she was coming back to Beggar’s Bay. This was home now. She loved Paris, felt connected to the lifeblood of New York City, but her heart would now always be here. She wondered how her father would feel about life in Beggar’s Bay.
She heaved a sigh and clasped a necklace she’d bought at the boutique around her neck. It held thre
e charms—a fleur-de-lis, a heart and a pretty little sparkly crystal. They fell to just below her breasts. She added a pair of one-carat posts she wore all the time, and used a small black Ferragamo makeup bag as a purse.
Mercifully, her shoes had arrived. She hoped Grady wasn’t offended by the fact that she might stand as tall as he did, maybe taller.
Grady. She experienced an upsurge of emotion in her chest and swore she saw the crystal sparkle. She put a hand there to push down on sadness at having to leave him. She could stay here and commute to Paris or New York from Salem every few weeks, but she had to drive a couple of hours to get there. And the small airport did make travel more complicated.
She was taking the risk that he’d fall in love with someone else during her absences, but that was a chance every lover took. Of course, the sticking point was that he didn’t love her. But she was hoping to change that.
Of course, there was the possibility that he’d lose his appeal for her.
She laughed at herself. No, there wasn’t. She’d never forget all he’d done to help her, all the kindnesses he’d showed...the way it felt to lean into his shoulder and have his arm close around her. It was that rightness that had been missing for so long.
And that she’d have to learn to live without if she couldn’t change his mind.
She smiled at herself then grabbed a short red coat Corie had given her; one of the samples she’d made for her new line.
When Cassie told her she was surprising Grady with dinner out tonight, Corie had insisted she take it. Cassie had wanted to resist, but her sister had hugged her and said, “I’m just so happy to have something to give you.”
Who could ever be unhappy with such richness in her life?
She heard the truck pull up and hurried downstairs.
* * *
GRADY WALKED IN, noticing immediately that there were no wonderful aromas coming from the kitchen. But the room carried that fragrance the fabric and ribbon had brought with them. He stopped, almost paralyzed at the sight of Cassie coming toward him. She was a vision in simple black that hugged her small but shapely bosom, her tiny waist, then flared to just above her knees, the fabric moving and swirling as she walked, a red jacket hanging from her hand.
Her hair was caught up in curly disarray on top of her head, and her makeup had an aspect of glamour tonight. Unlike the pretty, seemingly happy woman who cooked, watered the plants, moved beautiful ornaments from far-off places across the ocean, this one wore the mantle of celebrity like a second skin. Or, maybe a first one.
“Hi!” she said warmly, taking in the casual jeans and sweater he’d changed into before leaving the station. “I thought I’d take you to dinner tonight as a thank you for all the ways you’ve helped me this week. The wedding’s day after tomorrow, and then I’m leaving on January third, so if we want to relax a little, maybe do a little dancing, tonight is it.” She smiled at his look of surprise. “Do you dance?”
“I do,” he replied. “In high school, before my father got sick, I took a dancing class with a bunch of friends because we thought it’d be a great way to meet and hold girls. But...” He looked down at himself. “I’m not sure I have anything dressy enough to be seen with you.”
“It’s just a black dress.” She grinned and pointed to her feet. “You’ll notice I’m not wearing boots.”
“Hey!” Applauding, he went closer as she posed as though selling shoes, pointing one toe, then the other. The heels weren’t very high but it didn’t take more than a few inches to make her as tall as he was.
She closed the small gap between them so that they were eye to eye. Her topknot of curls gave her a slight height advantage.
“You’re not going to try to push me around because you’re taller, are you?” he teased.
“Come on, I don’t need height to bend you to my will,” she joked back. “You’ve adjusted to glamour and fuss to help me with this wedding. I’ll bet you never thought you’d do that.”
That was true.
“What about that gray wool jacket I’ve seen in the guest closet?” She continued, smoothing the shoulders of his sweater. “You look very nice. You just need something to pull it together in a dressy way.”
He went to the closet and shrugged into the jacket. He looked at himself in the mirror on the door. All he focused on, though, was her beautiful face over his shoulder, looking on with approval.
“Perfect,” she said, hooking an arm in his. “Does the Bistro have dancing?”
“They do. There’s also a little supper club on the north edge of town. The dance floor’s bigger, but the food isn’t as good.”
“Are you okay with the Bistro? Then, if you want to, you could show me your new office. But we’d have to take the stairs.”
“Sure.”
* * *
AN UNUSUAL SORT of easiness seemed to take charge of the evening. Because they both knew she was leaving after the wedding, the pressure was off regarding where their relationship might have gone if she’d stayed.
He was relieved that she no longer talked about him being a missing piece in a life that messed with everything he knew to be real.
She ordered scampi and salad. When he hesitated, torn between the surf ’n’ turf and something more reasonable since she was paying—and that was something he had to adjust to—she ordered the steak and lobster for him, consulting him only on how he wanted the steak prepared.
“Medium-well,” he said to the waiter. When the man was gone, he added to Cassie, “That might constitute pushing me around.”
She shrugged it off. “Maybe. But height has nothing to do with it because we’re sitting down. I’m just ordering you around on principle. So, while I’m at it, let’s dance.”
“Sure.” He stood with her and, as he followed her to the small floor, he whispered, “But I’m leading.”
As they reached the roped-off parquet floor in front of the band, she turned into his arms and wrapped hers around his neck. He credited rugged police training for the fact that his knees didn’t give out.
She leaned into him, resting her cheek against his, and expelled a comfortable sigh as he wrapped his arms around her waist. The scent of lilies embraced him. She felt like a whisper in his arms.
“Your mom bought shoes today,” she told him, the domestic topic far from the very non-domestic thoughts taking over his mind.
“You are a miracle worker,” he said lazily. “She’s worn those brown things with the weird heel for a couple of years.”
“That’s called a wedge.” She leaned her head back to smile at him. Her eyes were always so frank, he felt as though he could see into her future. He felt the smallest twinge that it wasn’t going to include him. He’d known that from the beginning, but there’d been moments... “And they’re very comfortable. But she needed something black for the wedding. They have a small heel.”
“Really.” He tried to sound interested but he wasn’t. At all. “I’m glad your shoes came in. Did your tennis shoes come, too?”
“They did. Walking shoes. So I can get in some exercise when the wedding’s over.”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t care, do you?”
“No. Except that I’m glad you don’t have to wear boots with your dress for the wedding.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Nothing,” he said. At the slight tension he felt in her, he wished he’d thought a minute before answering. He added quickly, “I mean, our conversations usually end in an argument, and this peace is so nice.”
“You’re right.” She rested her cheek against his again. “Let’s just pretend that we get along all the time. That we’re like some old married couple with nothing to worry about because we know we’ll always be there for each other.”
He held her a little tighter.
“Okay. I like that. Where did I meet you?”
“What?”
“If we’re like an old married couple, where did we meet?”
“Ah...” She thought. “In Paris. Buying macarons.” There was a tightening of the shoulders on which her arms rested. That’s right. Paris was outside of his reality. She added quickly, “You were a French policeman, a gendarme.”
He relaxed. “Mais oui. That helps make it real for me.”
“Maybe you arrested me because I couldn’t contain my need for macarons and ran behind the counter, swept every one I could reach into a bag and ran off.”
“I can see that, except that I wouldn’t have arrested you. If you agreed to share with me, I’d have let you off with a warning. And what was your line of work?”
She knew he expected her to create a different persona. She didn’t. This was who she was. “I’m a model. I’ve had my heart broken by a thoughtless boyfriend, and I’m planning to eat away my troubles.”
He stopped moving and tried to read her eyes. She wanted him to know she was proud of who she was, but she didn’t want him to think she considered anything his fault. “You were never my boyfriend, Grady. I’m harking back to Paul Preston. Remember? I ate away the whole humiliating incident.”
It took him a moment to accept her explanation. He nodded. “Okay. So, we’re on the run with macarons. Where are we going?”
“You have friends in Beggar’s Bay who are like family. You know they’ll protect us from Interpol. That’s how we ended up here.”
He laughed deep in his throat. “Interpol. Wow. Frenchmen are serious about their cookies.”
“And almost everything else. Looks like our food’s here.” They walked hand in hand back to the table, still stuck in the gendarme/model fantasy.
They talked about frivolous things and ordered champagne with their dessert of pears Charlotte. He leaned toward her on his elbows, the glass dangling from his fingers. “Were you an organized little kid, or is this attention to detail that allows you to plan a wedding something that came to you as an adult?”
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