by JoAnn Durgin
“I mean it, Mitch. I don’t know if you’re acting like this to get back at me or what, but stop it.”
Opening his mouth to refute Amy’s words, he closed it again. A stab of regret coursed through him. “I’ll try to be better, but Cassie’s a big girl and more than capable of protecting herself against the likes of big old bad me.”
“I know what it is. You think if you’re rude and obnoxious, she won’t have any interest in you.”
“Be quiet,” he snipped. “I’ve already asked the lovely Cassie to take a walk with me when we get back to the house, and she readily agreed. I didn’t bribe or offer to pay her either.”
She gave him a startled look. “Oh? Have a good time.”
“You are so transparent,” he said, laughing as they walked outside together. “Don’t think I didn’t see the looks directed our way and all the twittering going on around the table.”
“We never twitter.”
“Oh, yes, you do. Like magpies.”
Amy tugged her purse over one shoulder. “You probably don’t even know what a magpie is.”
“Sure, I do. It’s. . .some type of bird. You look tired, Amy. You and Landon all right? I know it’s tough for him to lose Madelyn.”
“He’ll be fine, and thank goodness the plane was heavily insured. You know my husband.” She sniffled and offered him a weak smile. “Of course, he says what happened is all the more reason to buy a bigger plane.”
“For your growing family, I hope?”
She blew out a sigh. “TeamWork is expanding by leaps and bounds, and I’m not talking about our immediate group. With a bigger plane, Landon will be able to transport more passengers and cargo.”
“I guess that’s another blessing to come out of Madelyn’s demise, sad as it is,” Mitch said. “Tell Landon to thoroughly inspect the landing gear before he buys another plane. Something tells me part of your trust fund is kicking in for this major purchase.”
“In my estimation, it’s worth it.” She frowned. “Why? You don’t think so?”
“Of course I do. You don’t need my permission and it goes without saying Grandpa would approve. It’s a very admirable investment.” He’d always appreciated how Amy had fallen in love with Landon before discovering he’d been a major investor in TeamWork.
“What about you? Tam’s Place and the fund for 9/11 widows and orphans have both been very worthy investments.” They both waved as Landon headed with Josh and his kids to their minivan.
Mitch swallowed hard and gazed into the distance. “Yes, but I want to do more.” He’d been pondering his options, wondering how best to put more of his trust fund to use. Through the years, the fund had been well-managed and it had grown considerably from their grandfather’s initial generous gift. He made a good living and didn’t need the money for personal needs.
“Pray about it, and He’ll help you figure it out,” Amy said. “Don’t worry about Landon and me. We’ll add to our family when the time is right. You, on the other hand, need to concentrate on marrying and settling down. Then we’ll talk.”
“And there we go.” He glanced at his watch. “I wondered how long it would take you to mention matrimony and moi in the same sentence. No fair blaming my marital status for your disobedience of God’s command to be fruitful and multiply.” Interesting, though, how his sister hadn’t added the find the right girl sentiment like she normally did.
Amy ducked her head, but not before Mitch glimpsed her smile. “We’re headed to Winnie and Josh’s for the night. You’re right about one thing. I’m exhausted down to my bones. I’ll see you in the morning.” When Winnie pulled her yellow VW Beetle to the front entrance, Amy shot him a look over one shoulder as she opened the car door. “Make sure you give us magpies plenty to twitter about this weekend, okay?”
“I’ll try my best. Sleep well.” He closed the door after she climbed inside. Unwittingly, his sister had walked straight into his plan.
This will be fun.
Chapter 10
Cassie appreciated how Mitch kept his steps slow to match hers as they walked together around Sam and Lexa’s neighborhood. Pulling her sweater closer about her shoulders, she snuggled into it and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Hang on a second.” Mitch removed his suit coat and draped it around her.
For a moment, she was rendered speechless. “Thank you. I appreciate your chivalry, but as you can see, I have my sweater.”
“I know that, but you also shivered. Where I come from, shivering equates with being chilled.”
“Well, let me know if you want it back.” Something about Mitch’s expression told her he wouldn’t ask for the jacket back even if he was freezing with icicles hanging from his ears.
“Cassie, I hope you’ll accept my apology. Amy told me I’ve been acting like a jerk. She didn’t use that exact word, but it’s what she meant.”
“I’d never call you a jerk, Mitch. You’re. . .interesting.”
His smile emerged as his gaze locked with hers. “Thanks. I’ll take it. If I step over the line, say the word.”
“Will do. You don’t look like what I envisioned. A Wall Street broker, I mean. Ever had a beard?” What a dumb thing to say. The warmth invaded her cheeks all over again. Blushing seemed to be a given around Mitch. Good thing it was dark.
“No. You?” He shuffled his feet and kicked a pebble off the sidewalk.
She laughed. “Can’t say that I have, no.” Mitch had a wonderful way about him that helped her feel more at ease. Not to mention he was a lot more approachable than she’d expected. What she didn’t expect was his teasing persona. Tagg used to tease her in the same way, and she’d missed that give-and-take relationship. Rebekah and Josh had a great rapport, and it seemed Amy and Mitch did, as well. How wonderful it must be to know someone always had your back.
Mitch rubbed one hand over his jaw and eyed her. “It’s been a really long day, and I have some decent scruff now. Want to feel it?”
“That’s okay. I’ll take your word for it.” He wore scruff well. “Before I met you—the first time, at Amy and Landon’s wedding—I thought you might. . .well, I thought you might be stuffy. As in full of yourself.” She giggled when he quirked a brow. “I knew you had to be smart, though. That was a given.”
“Admit it. You pictured a boring guy with a high forehead and wrinkled clothes who talked incessantly about the stock market. Stuffy and scruffy. How am I doing so far?”
“Your forehead’s not that high and from what I’ve seen, you seem inclined to talk about a lot of things but not the stock market. Thank you for that.”
“Are you saying what I do for a living is boring?”
“No, I’m saying I don’t know anything about it.” How to converse intelligently about it was the challenge, but if she dared voice that thought, he’d probably give her another little lecture.
“Ah, right. You hate money. You’re entitled to your opinion, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to talk about catering. I like food as much as the next guy. Who doesn’t?”
“I don’t hate money, Mitch. I just don’t like how the lack of it, or too much of it, can make people do stupid things and let it rule their lives.”
Mitch stopped walking. “Are you speaking from personal experience?”
He asked hard-hitting questions that made her think. Beneath the surface was a very caring man, and one she liked very much. Lowering her gaze, Cassie resumed her steps. “Yes, but from the perspective of not having any money. We were poor, and it caused problems. Let’s say jail time was involved. And no, I wasn’t the one sitting in a jail cell pondering my next crime.” How could she tell Mitch her daddy was locked up most of her childhood? Drunk and disorderly, burglary and theft charges constituted his unsavory, lengthy police record. “No Felonies Thorenson” had become his unfortunate nickname—and, conversely—his source of false pride.
To her surprise, Mitch didn’t appear shocked.
“I’m sorry to hear it, b
ut rich people commit plenty of crimes, too. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how many stockbrokers have been tossed into prison for illegal trading activity and unethical business practices. When it comes right down to it, one sin isn’t any bigger than the other. If it helps, I understand what you’re saying.”
Shoving his hands into the pockets of the jeans, Mitch glanced down at his feet. “I have to ask. What’s your impression of me now? The fact that I’m wearing leather dress shoes with jeans doesn’t count, in case that makes me a geek or a nerd.”
She’d led herself right into that one. “You’re fine. Nice. Funny. Unpredictable.” Tall. Incredibly handsome in a nice, unaffected way. He wore the combination of casual and business attire well.
“Don’t forget interesting. Come on, Cassie, that’s all you’ve got?” After she started walking again, he jogged to catch up with her. “Give a guy a break. I survived a crash landing today. Doesn’t that score me a few points on your empathy and sympathy scale?”
“I’ll think about it.” What did he want her to say? Her attention was diverted when she spied an older couple—neighbors of Sam and Lexa—further down the sidewalk, strolling toward them. Doris and Walt. She’d met them when they hired Doyle-Clarke Catering for Walt’s retirement dinner the year before. Great people, but this could get awkward fast. Doris asked her about her dating prospects every time she saw her. Never missed an opportunity. Of course, she hadn’t seen them in a few months, and tonight—the first time she’d been alone with an eligible, single man in forever—here they were. Doing an abrupt about face and marching in the opposite direction would be rude, and she suspected Mitch might enjoy it if Doris dropped her usual hints.
Sure enough, as soon as they came within range, Doris waved and called to her. “Oh, Cassandra, honey! How lovely to see you.” She grabbed her husband’s arm. “Look who it is, Walt.”
“Who do we have here?” Mitch said under his breath.
“Doris and Walt Bicklebing. Be good and no teasing. They’re lovely people but I never know what she’ll say next.”
“Bicklebing? Seriously? I’ll enjoy this.”
Doris gave them an appraising glance as they came closer. “Why don’t you introduce us to your young man?”
“This is Mitch Jacobsen,” Cassie said. “He’s the brother of one of our TeamWork volunteers and visiting from New York.”
“Well, how wonderful. Isn’t that nice?” Mrs. Bicklebing stared at Mitch for a few seconds. “Why do you look so familiar to me?” Tearing her gaze away, Doris glanced up at the night sky. “In any case, would you look at that beautiful moon? It’s the perfect night for a romantic walk. You never know what the weather will be like at this time of year, but this weekend is supposed to be unseasonably warm. So, how long are you visiting Houston, Mr. Jacobs?”
“It’s Jacobsen, and only until early next week.”
“You be careful.” Doris’s gaze darted between the two of them. “This young lady is incredibly special. Pretty as a picture and irresistible as cotton candy.” She wagged her finger. “I’m warning you now, young man. If you spend more than a few hours with her, it’ll be mighty hard for you to leave her when you go back home.”
“Doris, don’t embarrass the man. Sorry. She doesn’t know when to quit.” Walt darted an apologetic glance Mitch’s way.
“No need to be sorry,” Mitch said. “I understand exactly what you mean, Mrs. Bicklebat.”
Cassie bit her lower lip not to laugh. She doubted Mitch’s slip of the tongue was an accident.
Walt and Doris both laughed. “Bicklebing,” Walt said after Mitch started to apologize. “Don’t worry. We’ve been called Dingbat, Binglebat, you name it. Heard it all.”
Mitch moved closer and draped his arm loosely around Cassie’s shoulders. “As a matter of fact, I’m trying my best to make the lovely Cassandra fall in love with me as we speak. Considering it’s Valentine’s Day weekend, after all. Love is in the air.”
“Oh, well then, we won’t keep you,” Doris said. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of young love. And, may I say, you two make an absolutely stunning couple. You enjoy your walk. . .talk. . .or whatever else you do tonight. Together.”
Cassie wanted to groan.
Walt winked at Mitch. “Don’t do anything I’d do.”
Waving to them, Doris grabbed Walt by the arm. “Wait a minute, honey. You have that wrong,” Doris said. “It’s don’t do anything I wouldn’t—”
“No, I got it right.” Walt’s voice was firm.
“Happy Valentine’s Day tomorrow!” Cassie called to them as the older couple started down the sidewalk again.
As soon as they were a few more paces down the street, out of earshot, Mitch dropped his arm. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”
“That statement about trying to make me fall in love with you was laying it on a bit thick. I hope you’re not making fun of me. Look, Mitch, I’m not—”
“Shh,” Mitch said, putting one finger over her lips. “I’d never make fun of you, Cassie. I’m tired and loopy and coasting on leftover fumes.”
Cassie took hold of his arm and picked up their pace. “Then we’d better get you back to Sam and Lexa’s quick before you drop from exhaustion.” They walked together for a few minutes, murmuring greetings to a young couple pushing their baby in a stroller and a man jogging with his dog.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” Mitch said as they walked with her hand tucked around his arm. “Reminds me of strolling the promenade or whatever they used to do in years past. Being friendly with the neighbors. Has a small town feel to it, you know?”
“Don’t you ever take walks in New York?”
“Not really. New Yorkers are always too busy running here and there, me included. It’s a lot colder back home than here at this time of year, but I should get out and make an effort. I’ve lived in the townhouse our grandfather left us since Amy married Landon and moved into his place, but I don’t really know my neighbors. That’s a pretty sad thing to admit.”
“I don’t think that’s exclusive to New York,” she said. “Other than people from church and the TeamWork crew, I don’t really know my neighbors.”
“Where do you live?”
“I rent a condo fifteen minutes from here. It’s small, but it suits my needs. I’d like to get a dog, but I’m not home enough to keep one company. It wouldn’t be fair to a poor pooch.”
“I have a dog. I spend as much time with him as I can, especially on the weekends.”
“Really? The city dweller has a dog? Shocking.”
He smiled. “His name is Sam and he’s a mutt—part sheepdog and part take your pick. Nobody knows. He’s long-haired, big and lumpy but completely lovable.”
“Sam, huh?”
“As in Samuel Langhorne Clemens.”
“Wasn’t that Mark Twain’s real name?”
“See, I knew you were a girl after my heart, Cassie. Please tell me you’re not adverse to a serious Mark Twain addiction.”
“For you, no. For me? I can resist. I’ve read some of his books, but mainly those I was forced to for school. Until they banned some of them.”
Mitch chuckled. “I choose to believe he was misunderstood. Falling off a log and stinking drunk, I think he was one of our finest American humorists. Sure, he could be profane, but he makes me laugh and lightens the burdens of life. Everyone needs a Twain in his or her life.”
“I agree,” Cassie said. “Walt and Doris have been married over sixty years. I heard him say once that one of the secrets to their long, happy marriage was being able to make each other laugh. They met in grade school and started going together when they were teenagers. Doris told me Walt gave her a promise ring in fourth grade during recess. Got down on one knee on the playground right in the middle of a dodge ball game. I find that incredibly sweet, don’t you?”
“A little dangerous maybe, but sure. You know what’s really sweet? Your sense of wonder. Ditto the phrase going together.” Mitch’s l
ips lifted. “Did you ever go together with a boy when you were in fourth grade?”
“Of course. I had boyfriends from the time I was in kindergarten.”
“I don’t doubt it for a minute.”
“You?”
He chuckled. “Nah. I was a late bloomer. Ugly kid. Freckles, pimples, gangly and awkward.”
“Don’t know if I believe you. But, even if you were, something tells me you made up for lost time.”
“You could say that.”
Cassie didn’t want to hear any more about Mitch’s love life, but she’d led herself right into that one. Seemed easy enough to do where he was concerned. “I was hoping to hear about this big plan of yours before the night’s over,” she said. “I thought that was the purpose of this walk. If you’re too tired, that’s okay.”
The silence between them grew long as they walked, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She stole a glimpse at his profile. With tiny lines etched around his eyes and on the sides of his mouth, the man was clearly exhausted. She probably should have declined the offer and let him go home and crawl into bed.
Finally, Mitch spoke. “Let’s forget I ever mentioned a plan. It’s not important anymore. In some ways, I think what happened earlier today is finally seeping into my subconscious. Changing my viewpoint on certain things.” His tone was suddenly more subdued and serious.
“What do you mean?”
“The whole mortality thing, I guess. We can’t know what’s going to happen. None of us do. Only God knows when we’re going to draw our final breath, say our final words, kiss our loved ones for the last time. I’ve always known it, but when you face the possibility of dying, it alters your perception.”
Cassie chewed her lower lip. How well she knew.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that it reinforced the whole idea of living for the moment, making each day count. We shouldn’t waste our time or efforts trying to live up to the expectations of others. Am I making any kind of sense?”
