by JoAnn Durgin
“No,” she said. “I’m cat sitting for a neighbor and the little bugger tried to take a bite out of my finger.”
“The cat sounds lovely. Did it draw blood?”
“A tiny bit.” He could hear the sound of water running.
“Wish I could kiss it and make it all better.” He made loud lip-smacking sounds into the phone. “What’s the cat’s name? Dracula? Prince of Darkness?”
“Socks.”
“Like the smelly things like I just peeled off my feet? What about them? How your mind does wander, woman.”
“That’s the cat’s name, silly. Speak for yourself. Maybe it’s a good thing I know about your foot odor problem now.”
“We all have flaws, sweetheart. Name one of yours.”
Cassie sniffed. “I have none. I’m perfect.”
“Well, arrogance has to count for something,” he said. “If this is going to work between us, we need to do something about your self-importance complex.”
“My, my. You’re assuming an awful lot, aren’t you? Tell me more about this woman who’s been emailing you. She sounds like a pest. How long have you known her?” So, she was fishing, was she?
“Not long enough. Forever. A few weeks. Always.”
“Feeling amphibious tonight are you?”
“Hey, I never claimed to be a word person. That’s Amy’s responsibility in this family. Speaking of amphibious, I have to ask you something.”
“What’s that?”
“Please tell me you learned how to swim.” Random thought, but ever since she’d told him about Tagg’s death and how she couldn’t swim, he hadn’t been able to forget it.
He didn’t expect the silence on the other end of the phone. “Cassie? It’s a simple question.”
“Um, no, if you must know.”
“That’s not good. Everyone should know how to swim. Amy and I had lessons when we were like three or something.”
“Well, we couldn’t afford lessons and after Tagg’s death, I had even less of a desire to ever go into the water again in my lifetime.”
“I can understand that, but we need to do something about this. I’m serious.”
“Are you ordering me to take swimming lessons, Mitch?”
“I guess I am. Or come here and I’ll personally take care of it. That would be fun.” An image of Cassie in a swimsuit popped into his head. Man, he really shouldn’t go there. “If you’ll recall, I asked you about coming to New York a minute ago, but then Dracula bit you. If you’re not bleeding profusely, or needing immediate medical attention, I’d sincerely appreciate an answer.”
“I can’t afford it, Mitch, and I don’t want you paying for anything.”
His lighthearted mood took a nosedive. Stubborn woman. They’d shared this same conversation a few times. Why wouldn’t she allow him to pay for a plane ticket? With one finger, he absently followed the wood grain of the table. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. “Cassie, we’re at an impasse here. How are we ever going to find out if this relationship will work between us if you’re not willing to accept anything from me?”
Based on the silence on the other end of the line, she was trying to figure out how to respond. Mitch counted to ten under his breath.
“That’s not true. I accepted the flowers you sent today.”
“I didn’t know your favorite color rose, so I sent—”
“One of every color in the rainbow. Thank you. They’re gorgeous.”
“Tell me your favorite flower, or at least your favorite color rose.”
“It doesn’t matter. I like them all.”
“Talk about ambiguous.” Above all else, he didn’t want to push her too fast. Cassie was different from the other women he’d dated in that regard, too. He’d never had to do a lot of pursuing in the past, never participated in the chase or the games. While Cassie had been responsive to him, she was also skittish and inexperienced when it came to dating. Not being in the same city—not even the same state or region of the country—threw a huge monkey wrench into the equation. Going in, he knew trying to maintain a romantic relationship long distance could be frustrating and tentative at best. But he needed to try and give it his best effort. Cassie was more than worth it.
He could hear her sigh. “I’ve never received flowers from anyone in my entire life. I’m not picky. It’s the thought and the giver that’s most important.”
“Fair enough. Promise me you’ll think about coming for a visit. Soon.”
“Promise, Mitch.”
~~**~~
After putting his empty cereal bowl in the sink and running water over it, Mitch went into the bedroom. Flopping on the bed, he dialed Amy’s home number. “Hey, bro,” he said when Landon answered. “My sister around?”
“She’s right here,” Landon said. “Hang on a second. Everything okay?”
“On second thought, maybe you’re the one who can help me on this one.”
“Something tells me it’s a woman. Cassie, I hope?”
“Of course. Listen, I’m trying to get her to come for a visit but she’s being stubborn and won’t accept a plane ticket from me. Short of breaking my vow and getting on a plane, I’m not sure how this is going to work between us. We talked and she’s at least promised to think about it. That’s a big step in the right direction.”
“You know, I picked up the new plane last week. Maybe it’s time to forget that no flying ever again vow.”
Mitch sat up cross-legged on the bed. He heard Amy in the background and waited impatiently for Landon to come back on the line. “Hello? Anyone there?”
“Sorry about that. Amy wants to talk to you.”
“Let me work on Cassie,” Amy said a second later. “I’ll enlist Lexa and Winnie, if needed. Beck, too. You know they’ll do what they can to talk you up, big brother.”
The tension in Mitch eased with the knowledge the other ladies had confidence in him. “Amy, I miss Cassie more than I thought possible. It’s killing me that she’s so far away. And so incredibly stubborn and resistant to taking anything from me. You know what I mean,” he added lest she misinterpret his words.
“Mitch, first of all—not that it makes you feel any better—it’s only been a month since we were in Houston. Secondly, have you ever stopped to think maybe Cassie’s not resisting you so much as the idea of physically getting on a plane?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Think about it. Do you know if Cassie’s ever been on a plane?”
No, he hadn’t even thought of that one. “Come to think of it, she made a comment about not going anywhere but on the highway between Tuscaloosa and Houston.”
“So, in her own way, maybe Cassie’s skittish about flying, too. I don’t know that for a fact, but it’s one possible reason. Then there’s the pride factor. She might be hesitant to accept something of value from any man, so don’t take it personally. I’ll say one thing about her, though.”
Lost in thought, Mitch tugged a string off the bottom of his sleep pants. Amy had made several good points he hadn’t considered. To his shame, he’d been selfish and put his own feelings of self-pity above Cassie’s needs. Definitely not the best way to begin a relationship. Not to mention he’d already broken one of the cardinal rules mentioned in Sam’s terrific book. “What’s that?”
“Cassie might not have had any of the same advantages growing up that we did, but that girl’s got more class in her little finger than a lot of the people I deal with on a daily basis working at the magazine.”
That made him smile. “Speaking of which, when are you going to quit working for that seedy-sounding rag and go to work for your husband? I hear he’s big into acquisitions these days.”
She laughed. “We’re negotiating. Maybe I’ll stop working at Habits at the same time as I fulfill your wish for a niece or nephew.”
“Is this an announcement?” Mitch was only half-joking. He couldn’t wait to spoil Amy and Landon’s kids.
“Not
yet. Listen, get some decent rest and keep talking to Cassie. Keep those lines of communication open. That’s the most important thing at this point.”
After brushing his teeth, Mitch climbed into his bed. He picked up the spy novel he’d started reading the night before but tossed it aside two paragraphs into the chapter. With Cassie uppermost in his mind, no way could he concentrate on serious espionage drama.
Grabbing his phone, on a whim, he dialed Cassie’s home phone number, hoping he could entice her to sing to him over the phone. She’d done that for him a few times—even humoring him with special requests—and he’d love to hear her voice tonight. Was that the act of a desperate man? Probably, but he didn’t care.
Cassie didn’t answer, and he decided to leave a short voice mail message. Clearing his throat before the beep, Mitch prepared to sing. He had to be nuts about the woman to even attempt to sing for her. Beep.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” he began, closing his eyes and feeling every bit the fool.
~~**~~
Three Weeks Later
A New York exchange flashed across Cassie’s office phone. Was Mitch calling from his office to sing to her again? His heartfelt, out-of-tune songs had to be the sweetest, most romantic thing a guy could ever do for a girl. Bless his heart, he tried, and he’d started doing it more frequently, even taking her requests. That first message he’d left with his rendition of “You Are My Sunshine” would remain on her home phone answering machine for a very long time. He’d embellished it and added lyrics about moonbeams before his voice had soared gloriously flat. How she loved it. The first morning after he’d left the message, she’d listened to it three times as she’d eaten breakfast and dressed for work.
She startled when the phone rang again. “Doyle-Clarke Catering. This is Cassie.”
“Hi, Cassie. It’s Amy.”
“Hi, Amy. How are you?” Before she’d met Mitch, Cassie usually only talked with Amy when she called to speak with Winnie. Not this time. She was downright chatty. Chances were high the reason for Amy’s call involved Mitch.
She listened as Amy told her about Landon’s purchase of his new plane. Pulling open her desk drawer as she listened, Cassie’s gaze fell on a stack of postcards nestled inside. Twelve in all from Lake Charles, New Orleans, Tuscaloosa, Huntsville, Knoxville, to points in Virginia, Washington, D.C., Philadelphia and New York. Fun, colorful cards that traced Mitch’s drive from Houston to Manhattan.
She smiled at the thought of Mitch picking up the cards during his trip. On each of them, he’d written something about her that he liked, things he’d miss or things he hoped to learn. Once she knew he’d arrived back home safely, Cassie shared the postcards with Bea Richardson. For whatever reason, she hadn’t shared them with anyone else. She considered them little treasures she hugged to herself, and of all people, she’d known Bea would understand.
“Sorry to go into all that,” Amy said, drawing Cassie’s attention back to the conversation. Why was Amy telling her so much about Landon’s new plane? Must be because Landon intended to use it for TeamWork missions and relief efforts. Always a good thing.
“The real reason I called is to see if you might be interested in going on a test run in the plane?”
Cassie almost choked. “What do you mean? When?”
She listened with wide eyes as Amy told her Landon could fly into Houston the following week and take her back with him to New York. “He could pick you up on Thursday and fly you here, but you’ll need to fly back to Houston commercial. Sorry about that.”
“Amy, it’s a very generous offer, but I can’t agree to Landon taking me on his plane. The cost of fuel is sky high and—”
“Landon’s flying down to Houston on TeamWork and publishing business, so he’s coming anyway. I’d come along for the ride, but I have important meetings for Habits next Thursday afternoon that I can’t miss. I can probably take the day off Friday, if you’d like. Honey, if you’re worried about what happened with Madelyn, there’s no need.”
“No, it’s not that.” Cassie swallowed hard. “I suppose I could consider it. But I insist on paying my own airfare for the return flight.”
“If it helps, Mitch’s birthday is next Friday. He’d love me forever if I could convince you to come for a visit. Since he came back from that Valentine’s Day trip, he’s been a miserable grump. He misses you, Cassie. Think about it, pray about it, and let me know as soon as you decide.”
Mitch had been miserable? Amy must be exaggerating, but the fact Amy had called made it sound as though she approved of a relationship between them. Why did it have to be complicated? Cassie ran her finger over the glossy postcard of Tuscaloosa, wondering if Mitch had gone anywhere near where she used to live. She doubted it. Her old stomping grounds looked nothing like the photo on the card. He’d never asked for an address or specifics about her family home, and for that she was grateful.
The thought of seeing Mitch again sounded more appealing by the minute. Could she really do this? She’d never stepped foot on an airplane before. Mitch could have died in one. Rebekah was probably right in that he’d eventually change his mind about flying again, but it would be on his own timetable.
Her eyes fell on the calendar on her desk. She smiled when she read the verse for the day. How timely, and perfect for what her heart needed.
For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline. 2 Timothy 1:7.
Chapter 27
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Mid-Town Manhattan
The closer the taxi brought her to the address for the townhouse, the more Cassie felt like a little girl on Christmas morning. Knowing Mitch was so close made her pulse race. She couldn’t wait to throw her arms around him and kiss him. Show him how much she’d missed him. How much she wanted to be with him again, even if only for a few short days.
“That’s it! Number 3405.” Cassie pointed out the window at the red-brick, two-story structure, barely able to contain her excitement. Reaching for her purse, she pulled out more money than she needed, determined to give the man a great tip just for bringing her here. Stepping out of the cab, she waited on the sidewalk.
Last minute misgivings stirred inside her. Ever since Amy called with the idea to surprise Mitch for his birthday, she’d anticipated this moment. Imagined Mitch’s surprised smile and teasing comment on discovering her on his doorstep. But. . .what if he wasn’t so thrilled? Silly girl, the man calls you every night and emails you every day.
The driver came around to her side of the cab and closed the door.
“Thank you so much.” She started to hand him the money but he waved it aside.
“You’re welcome. Any friend of Miss Amy and Mr. Mitch is a friend of mine.”
That stopped her and Cassie glanced into his kind eyes. What driver in his right mind wouldn’t accept payment?
His laugh was genuine, from-the-gut. “Ask Miss Amy about Luis Delgado sometime. I’ve known Mr. Warnick for a few years now and been driving him all over the city. I got to know Miss Amy when she lived here and she helped my daughter, Angelina, get an internship at one of them fancy magazines. That Mitch is a real good man, but I don’t see him as much. He works himself too hard, but he’s been through a lot the last few years, losing his friend on 9/11 and all.”
Cassie stared at him for a long moment. This man was no random acquaintance. Her eyes widened. “Landon arranged for you to pick me up at the airport, didn’t he? I mean,” she stammered, “it wasn’t random. . .” Wow. How naïve of her to think otherwise. Landon had arranged for an airport employee to escort her from the plane, telling her he had reports to complete and didn’t want her to wait. Then her taxi driver had been outside the airport and moved forward as soon as he’d spotted her.
This explains a lot. And how glad she was.
“They told me to look for the beautiful girl with long auburn hair and a smile that’ll make me glad I’m alive and living in the city.”
She smiled. “They really said that?”
“Sure enough they did. They also told me your coming today is a big surprise for Mr. Mitch.” He gave her a wink. “He’s a mighty blessed young man.”
“Thank you, Mr. Delgado. You can call me Cassie.” He’d pointed out a few famous landmarks as he’d driven her into the city, giving her little history lessons here and there. Based on the humor she’d glimpsed in his eyes in the rearview mirror, he enjoyed her enthusiasm.
His grin was broad, ear-to-ear. “And you can call me Louie. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Cassie. I’ve heard a lot about you from Mr. Mitch.”
“You have?”
“The guy can’t stop talking about you. You’ve brought the smile back to his face.”
Cassie nodded, pleased by his words. “I think we’re going to be good friends, you and me.”
“I’d like that. Miss Amy told me to bring your suitcase on over to their place. You okay with that plan?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” she said. “It’s nice to know people are looking out for me.”
“I’m going to pull the cab around to the other side of the street and wait until Mr. Mitch answers the door or else comes home. Wouldn’t be right for me to leave you here all alone, sitting on the man’s doorstep.” He glanced at the sky. “Besides that, I think a storm’s brewing.”
“I’m not sure if he’s even home, but Landon gave me a key if Mitch isn’t home.” She’d feel weird going inside the townhouse without him being there, but she’d do it, if needed.
Unexpected tears stung Cassie’s eyes as Louie pulled out a card from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “Then I’ll see you again on Monday morning. We need to get to the airport by noon for you to catch your flight since I understand you’re flying commercial back to Houston. If your plans change or if you need to go anywhere while you’re here, you call on Louie. I’ll take good care of you.” He tipped his cap. “Enjoy your stay here in New York, Miss Cassie.”
