“Thanks, but we need to talk.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Couldn’t you tell I wanted to go golfing?”
“Yes, but…” He hesitated because she wouldn’t like the truth.
“But—”
“I didn’t want you to go with us.”
“What?”
“Not so loud,” he said, worried Dixon might hear through the so-called thin walls.
“Why didn’t you want me to go?”
“Things are going well.”
“Things are not going well. Did you see the starry look in my parents’ eyes?”
He nodded. “They were smiling so much I thought I was in the middle of a toothpaste commercial. They think we’re the perfect couple.”
“Exactly.” Cassie sounded annoyed. “See the problem?”
“I don’t,” Troy said. “We decided to act like an engaged couple. You get your parents off your back. I get my partnership.”
“Engaged couple, yes.” Cassie plopped on her bed. “But not soul mates destined to be together forever.”
“You’re overreacting. We’ve been here a little over twelve hours. Your parents can’t believe we’re destined to be together forever in such a short time.”
“I think they do.” Cassandra tapped her bare foot against the floor. “If we don’t stop our happy-couple routine, I’ll have to live the rest of my life hearing about Troy McKnight—the other one who got away.”
The other one?
He hoped she didn’t mean Eric. Troy wouldn’t ask given the pained expression on Cassie’s face. “It won’t be that bad.”
“You don’t know my parents.”
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with golfing.”
“Men.” She glanced at the ceiling. “The more time we spend together, the easier it will be for my parents to see we shouldn’t be engaged.”
No way. He had too much riding on this weekend to reverse tactics. “We decided to act like an engaged couple while we’re here. We were going to worry about breaking up later. We can’t change our plans now.”
Her jaw tensed. “Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?”
He didn’t know why she was taking this so seriously. Granted, she wanted to stop her parents’ matchmaking attempts, but she was too emotional and involved, enough so she wasn’t seeing the situation clearly. “I heard you, but I disagree.”
“You’re not going to convince my father to let me come with you.”
“No, you’re going to go out with your mother and enjoy yourself.” Troy wished Cassie would smile, but she looked mad at the world. Well, him. “I want to spend time with your father. Alone, if possible. Yes, that’s selfish, but he’s a great contact to have, and I might learn tricks of the trade. Maybe he can teach me some things that will ensure my partnership.”
“I should have known.” She rubbed her forehead. “All you care about is how this affects you and your career.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.” Cassie narrowed her eyes. “You can’t do anything to risk your precious partnership.”
“I’ve never hidden my reasons for wanting to be here this weekend.”
Silence.
“Listen, Cassie. Your parents don’t need us to show them we aren’t the perfect couple. Just look at the two of us. It’s obvious we don’t belong together.”
She raised her chin. “I’ll say it’s obvious. Two people couldn’t be more different. You’re much too conservative for me.”
“You’re too spontaneous for me.”
“At least I wouldn’t use anybody and anything to get ahead.”
“Hey.” Her words bristled. He didn’t like her putting this all on him. “This fake engagement wasn’t my idea. You approached me. I’m making the best of the situation. You need to do the same.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder.”
Her lips pressed together. The glance she shot him wasn’t full of daggers but missiles. She’d been upset before, but this felt different.
“What’s the problem?” Troy didn’t get why she was acting this way. “You’re Ms. Spontaneous, or so you claim. Just roll with it.”
She frowned. “Thanks for the advice, Mr. Rigid.”
“I’m not rigid.”
“I bet you have a plan to get you where you want to be.”
Troy did—his master plan. And it was working. Or it had been. Slowly. Until he met Cassie.
“Let me guess. A partnership at thirty,” she said. “Your first million by thirty-two. Retirement at thirty-five.”
“Forty.” She had guessed the milestones but missed the ages by a few years.
“Where does happiness play into your plan?” she asked.
“When I succeed, I’ll be happy.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “You really are just like…”
Her father, Troy hoped. “Who?”
“Eric.”
That wasn’t what Troy wanted to hear, but that was one more reason they were so wrong for each other.
7
Lunch at a quaint café in downtown Carmel reminded Cassandra of childhood outings with her mom. She enjoyed the one-on-one time. Over the past year, her mother had wanted to do things with both her and Emily. That was why Cassandra always declined. Today would have been nice except that the not-as-subtle-as-she-thought-she-was Vanessa Daniels had taken on the role of Troy’s personal publicist and wouldn’t stop talking about him.
“Don’t you think he has the bluest of eyes? Yours are beautiful, but his…” Her mother sipped her ice tea. “Gorgeous is the only way to describe them.”
How much longer was this going to go on? Cassandra stabbed at the piece of marinated grilled chicken in her salad.
“Troy also has the most charming smile,” her mother continued. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Not trusting her voice, Cassandra nodded.
“You’re not eating much.” Her mother’s gaze softened. “Missing Troy?”
Cassandra shoved a crouton into her mouth even though she wasn’t hungry. Chewing was better than answering.
Her mother glanced at her cell phone. “Look at the time. We have an appointment at one o’clock.”
Cassandra managed not to touch her hair or frown. “Fun.”
As much fun as having the stomach flu would be.
“We can get dessert afterward,” her mother said.
Nodding again, Cassandra thought of Troy. She wondered how his day of golfing was going. He had no idea how easily this situation could spin out of control…or maybe he didn’t care because his focus was on how this weekend could help his career. That was how Eric had been, so she shouldn’t be surprised. Still…
Her appetite—well, what little remained—disappeared. “I’m finished. I ate too much at breakfast.”
“That was hours ago.”
“The waffles were that good.” She kept a smile on her face. “So, what’s the appointment for?”
Twenty minutes later, Cassandra found out. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she stood in an elegant bridal salon. The white fabrics, lace, and sparkling crystals hurt her heart.
“This is sweet of you to arrange, Mom, but Troy and I haven’t set a wedding date. Trying on dresses is premature.”
“Perhaps, but humor your mother.”
None of this was amusing to Cassandra. Tension built at her temples. Any moment, a massive headache would erupt. Smiling hurt her jaw, but she had no choice. She had created this lie. She needed to live with the consequences. “Okay.”
Mustering enthusiasm wasn’t happening. She couldn’t—not when all she could think about was the last time she’d tried on wedding dresses. She’d been so excited to be getting married to Eric. Putting on a white dress had made their engagement more real. Her friend and coworker Moe had gone with her, giving his advice with each gown she’d tried on. They’d laughed and had so much fun until they found the right one. Now all she felt was dread. She rubb
ed her neck.
“Think of this as a trial.” Her mother beamed. “Who knows? You may find something you like.”
Cassandra hoped not. That would make the situation worse.
“Let’s get you comfortable in a dressing room.” Ginger Soren, the fifty-something owner of Bridal Couture, wore a hot pink suit and matching pumps. Thick black eyeliner emphasized her sea-green eyes and contoured cheekbones. She wore her beach-blond hair in an elegant French twist. “Follow me, please.”
Cassandra did, with her mother at her side. So much pink and white. Crystals, too. Fancy and feminine described the décor. The dressing room was the size of a small bedroom with a pale pink velvet settee and two Queen Anne chairs positioned near a raised platform that was surrounded by three huge mirrors.
No doubt for the bride to model the wedding gowns.
This was going to be a nightmare. One of her own making.
Ginger studied Cassandra like a butcher eyeing a slab of beef. “You have a lovely figure. Several of the popular styles will take advantage of your curves. I’ll be right back.”
Her mom rubbed her palms together. “Isn’t this fun?”
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Ginger tapped on the dressing room door and then walked in with three white dresses before Cassandra could reply. “Off-the-shoulder styles are the rage. This one, however, adds 3-D floral embellishments, so you’ll stand out from other brides.”
“Okay.” Cassandra didn’t know what else to say, but the monstrous pile of white fabric spiked her blood pressure. So not good. Stress affected her sleep and health. She’d learned that before opening the bookstore. She would be lucky if she survived the weekend without becoming exhausted or sick. Or both.
Ginger helped her into the gown and used plastic clips to adjust the back. “The sample is loose to fit a wide range of sizes, but we would order one based on your measurements. What do you think?”
No was the first thing that popped into Cassandra’s head, but she needed to play along for her mother’s sake. “It’s stylish. I like the tighter fit through my hips and thighs, but the layered skirt and flowers on the bodice are…a bit too much for me.”
She might not be conventional by her family’s definition, but she wasn’t the type to wear avant-garde fashion.
“I agree,” her mother said.
Ginger motioned for Cassandra to turn around so she could unbutton the dress. “Let’s get you into another gown.”
One down, two to go. Cassandra could handle this. “Sure.”
The dress came off. Another sleeveless one went on.
Ginger clipped the material. “This one has a fit-and-flare skirt but cleaner lines. The plunging neckline will show the bra you’re wearing today. That’s an easy fix for your wedding day. What do you think?”
Cassandra eyed her reflection. Two words came to mind—fake and phony. “I like the simpler lines, but I’m not comfortable with the low neckline.”
“I agree about the neckline.” Her mother tapped her chin. “It’s also a little too plain. There’s no texture to the fabric. No sparkle. A bride needs a little more…pizazz.”
“Wonderful input. The third dress is similar, so we’ll skip that one.” Ginger smiled.
Yay. Cassandra cheered silently. Now they could get dessert. Her appetite was returning.
Ginger motioned for her to turn. “Let’s get you out of this, and I’ll get some more.”
“More?” The word slipped out of Cassandra’s mouth.
“Of course, dear,” her mother said. “We want to narrow down the styles you like.”
Standing in a pair of underwear and a bra, Cassandra wanted only to put her clothes on and get out of here. Her last dress had never been worn other than for alterations and the final fitting. Maybe the bride who’d purchased it from her had better luck.
Ginger returned with more gowns. She helped Cassandra into the next one.
“Oh, my!” Ginger clapped her hands.
Her mom sighed. “You look as though you stepped from the cover of a bride magazine.”
Ginger nodded. “This is an A-line dress with an illusion bodice that’s been hand beaded. The extra layer on the skirt not only provides texture but also volume. What do you think?”
The crystal beading on the dress shimmered under the light of the chandelier hanging overhead. Beautiful, but the gown was like the one Emily had worn on her wedding day.
An engagement-ring-sized lump lodged in Cassandra’s throat. Her stomach churned. A good thing she hadn’t eaten much lunch.
Cassandra wanted to go home. She wanted to run away and forget about her family and Troy.
She swallowed. “It’s lovely, but the style is more my sister’s than mine.”
Her mother tapped her chin. “Now that I look closer, the gown does seem familiar.”
“The designer is the same. I thought since they were twins, they might want similar styles.” Ginger pursed her glossed lips.
“It’s a spectacular dress,” her mother reassured. “But my daughters have different tastes. Like Waterford and Orrefors.”
“I understand.” Ginger unbuttoned the back. “Let me get you out of this. I have others that will work better.”
After Ginger had left the dressing room, her mother sighed. “I should have been clearer to Ginger about your tastes.”
“Like I’d want anything to remind me of Emily’s wedding.” She’d donated her maid-of-honor dress and dyed-to-match shoes to a thrift store the day after the wedding.
“Sweetheart, I know you’re still upset over your sister marrying Eric, but everything worked out for the best. He wouldn’t have made you happy.”
Her mom’s words were true. Cassandra doubted Eric would make Emily happy, either, but that was her sister’s problem. Still, Cassandra’s parents didn’t know what Emily had done. No one knew the full story or how the betrayal by two people Cassandra loved made trusting anyone difficult. She wanted to trust, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t. Putting the past behind wasn’t easy. Not when she couldn’t forget the pain of having her heart ripped out by her then-fiancé and twin sister. Maybe Cassandra should finally tell her mom what—
“Once we find you a wedding dress, you’ll feel better,” her mother said.
Cassandra doubted that. She rubbed her face as if she could wipe away what was happening right now.
Pretending was too much. The dress. The engagement. The fake fiancé.
She should stop the charade. And she would if not for Troy. He’d asked for a weekend. She owed him that unless he changed his mind about continuing to pretend. But she could take more control now.
“What if we forget about finding a dress?” Cassandra asked. “I could wear a toga. We could go with a Bacchanalian theme and have all the guests wear togas. I can wear a wreath made from fig leaves—”
“Cassandra, really.” Her mother’s tone matched the shocked look in her eyes. “Could you imagine your father in a toga? Just the thought.”
“It was only an idea.” Cassandra had tried and failed. Although, she liked the idea of Troy in a toga with nothing underneath. She nearly groaned.
Forget his kiss this morning and her dream last night. Troy McKnight was too much like Eric Wainwright—same ambition, same drive, same everything.
Telling her mother she was engaged had seemed like the perfect solution at the time, but Cassandra now realized her mistake. She should have been honest and made her parents understand she didn’t mind being alone. Being alone was better than the alternative—having her heart broken again.
Even if Cassandra was willing to risk her heart, she doubted she’d ever find a man who wanted her for who she was. Eric hadn’t. Troy admitted they were opposites. Chances were others would feel the same. Their loss. Cassandra liked the woman she’d become and wasn’t about to change for anyone. Yes, she was better off being single.
Ginger returned with three more dresses. The first was an elegant s
leeveless silk ballroom gown with a lace-covered bodice and sweetheart neckline. The retro feel reminded Cassandra of a dress Audrey Hepburn would have worn. The second dress was strapless, ball-gown length, with some beading, but still simple and charming. She liked both dresses.
“I’m happy you like these better, but I think you’ll like this one the best.” Ginger helped Cassandra into the third gown and buttoned it. “I call this my Juliet gown. The designer puts a modern spin on a historical era.”
Cassandra stared at herself in the mirror. The lace dress had a higher neckline and three-quarter length sleeves. Not typical. It was a tad bohemian with a touch of Renaissance flair. In a word—perfect.
Her mother dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “Oh, Cassandra. You look stunning in that dress.”
Ginger placed her right hand on her hip. “This dress makes more of a statement than the other two, but it’s not too out there.”
Emotion clogged Cassandra’s throat. She looked like a bride—she felt like a bride. The other wedding dress she’d purchased had made her feel special—like a princess—but this…
She wanted to be married wearing this dress. Well, if she were going to get married. Which she wasn’t, she reminded herself.
“I’ll find a headpiece to match.” Ginger walked out of the dressing room.
“What do you think?” her mom asked.
“It’s breathtaking.”
“I agree. It’s perfect for you.”
The words surprised Cassandra. She’d thought her mother would prefer a more traditional style and was happy she liked this one.
Cassandra imagined wearing this dress with a wreath of fresh flowers in her hair and a matching bouquet in her hands. She couldn’t wait for Troy to see her. He would love the dress, except…
He would never see her in this dress.
No one except her mom and Ginger would.
Cassandra’s spirits deflated like a hot air balloon on the ground after landing.
“Do you like the gown?” Vanessa asked.
Cassandra nodded, but she was disappointed with herself for finding a dress she didn’t need. She hunched as if she were carrying a seven-tier wedding cake on her back.
This was so unlike her. Time to get out of the perfect gown before she fell in love with it any more.
Vote Then Read: Volume II Page 294
