Although, showing up with her beloved cat at her condo might not be such a bad idea. The gratitude, the appreciation—there’s no way she’s choosing a cup of coffee to celebrate.
“It’s a perfect idea. Here, I’ll give you her exact address. Now get going, there’s no time to waste. This cat means so much to her, and I think she’ll be super excited to see him. And you.”
“Janice….” I shoot her a pointed look.
“Oh, please, Cash. Drop the macho act. From the second I saw you two in here together, I knew you were crazy about her. And I knew she was crazy about you. Will you two stop being fools and just get on with it?”
I smile, shaking my head as she finds a carrier to put Monticello in. I don’t have the heart to tell Janice we’ve already got on with it in one way, been there done that. I just don’t really want to have that conversation with her. Still, as I drive Monticello to my condo so I can clean up first—I don’t think dog piss will naturally lend itself to a bedroom kind of thank-you, if you know what I mean—I think about what she said. I think about how maybe Sage Everling isn’t the total player she pretends to be. I think that maybe, like me, she can be beaten at her own game.
My heart pounds as I stand at the door to 704, the cat carrier in my right hand as I knock with my left hand.
“Coming,” a smooth voice says, and I take a deep breath. I wonder what she’s wearing. I wonder how she’ll react. I wonder so many things.
The door opens, and there she is, hair in a simple bun. She’s wearing tight jeans and a red top, her blue eyes sparkling.
“Cash?” she inquires, taking a step back. But then her gaze lands on the carrier in my hand and she gasps.
“Monticello?” she asks now, leaning down to peer in the carrier. Her beloved cat lets out a guttural cry, and she quickly ushers me in, tears falling. I step inside her abode. Perhaps the better word is oasis.
Everything is airy and clean, bright white floors and walls accented by earthy-toned decorations. There’s an eclectic yet elegant vibe happening, from the black marble countertops to the chandelier in the living room. It’s sophisticated and beautiful, but not over-the-top. It’s a balance between expensive taste and simplicity, and it works.
Sage is opening the door to the carrier, tears falling freely now as she scoops up her beloved cat.
“I can’t believe it. Baby, where have you been?”
As the reunion continues, another cat ambles out from the living room meowing. It walks toward me, and I think it’s going to rub my leg. Instead, it runs headfirst into me, stumbles, and shakes its head.
“Sorry. That’s Barcelona. He’s blind.”
“Oh, whoops. Sorry,” I say awkwardly to the cat, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do. Why do I feel so out of my element?
I reach down to pet the cat, who purrs. Sage puts down Monticello, and the two cats have a reunion complete with rubbing, hissing, and then eventually running off to another part of the condo.
“Where’d you find him?” she asks, wiping away the tears. I think about what Reed would want me to say, about how he’d want me to lie. I opt for the truth. Again, I’m an asshole, but not a total one.
“The shelter. An elderly man brought him in. Found him in his trash out back. Janice asked me to bring him to you.”
“Well, thank you. Thank you so much,” she says, shaking her head. “I’ve been worried sick. I know he’s just a cat, but he’s so much more to me. I’ve had him for five years now.”
I grin as she leads me into the living room, asking if I want a drink.
“I’m fine.”
We sit on her sofa, awkwardly. Finally, I break the silence. “So, why hairless?”
It’s the only question that comes to mind. Definitely not a question in my repertoire.
She smiles. “Because I always wanted one. Since I was little. My parents wouldn’t get me a cat. My mother said she didn’t want cat hair everywhere. So, I asked for a hairless cat. Mom said they were the ugliest creatures she ever saw. When I got in the position to be able to afford one, it was the first thing I bought.” She smiles big.
“I take it pissing off your mother is at the top of your hobby list?” I ask.
“You got it,” she says, winking and then laughing. “I’m a pro at it too. Although it isn’t hard. There are millions of ways to accomplish it, mostly doing something that insinuates you’re poor. Like buying items that aren’t name brand or wearing sweatpants in public. Mom’s all about the image.”
“Interesting,” I say, not sure what else to say. Sounds like there’s a lot going on with the family. A lot of baggage.
“Not really. I try not to interact with my family that much anymore. But that’s a long story. You didn’t come here to hear about my mom dramas. Thank you again.”
“No problem. Really. I’m glad he’s home.”
We sit again, close enough on the couch that I could reach out and touch her. I think about it, wonder if she’s thinking about it too. Just sitting here, I can feel the tension between us, the chemistry radiating. I think about that night, how our bodies moved so perfectly, how her confidence just got me going. I think about what it would be like to take her on this perfectly white couch, right in the airy living room.
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling. “I should probably get going,” I say, shaking my head. This is dangerous territory.
Levi’s right. This woman has me hooked—and I’ve got to rip out the hook before it sinks in deeper.
She nods. “Yeah, I’ve got some work to do. Oh, who am I kidding. I’m going to go sit with Monticello for hours watching Netflix and being thankful he’s back.”
I smile. “Sounds like fun.”
I walk to the door, hands in my pockets. I turn as she stares. She’s biting her lip, her gaze studying me. She opens her mouth as if she’s going to ask something but then apparently changes her mind. I wonder if she was going to ask me to stay. I wonder if I would’ve said yes.
“Thanks again, Cash. It was good seeing you.”
“You too. See you at the shelter?”
“See you next Sunday, yep. Oh, and I almost forgot. Your reward.”
I perk up, wondering if she’s changed her mind, wondering if my cologne is working its magic.
“Just let me get my purse,” she says as she turns.
I sigh. Money. She means the money.
“Hey, no way. Don’t worry about it. Besides, I didn’t find him anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“I’ll just donate the reward to the shelter,” she says.
I nod, thinking about how Reed would kill me right now for not asking for a bag.
As I open the door and step out of her condo, though, I’m really not thinking about rewards or bags. I’m thinking about how much I want her to ask me to stay—and how much that scares me. I turn and see her standing in the doorway. From where I’m standing, I can smell her floral perfume. It smells amazing, sensuous. Now I’m biting my lip.
“Bye,” she says, and even that one word rustles through me. She smiles and clicks the door shut. For a moment I stand, staring at the door, exhaling. I spin on my heel and head off, grabbing my cell phone from my pocket.
I dial Levi. “Hey, you and Jodie busy tonight? Wondering if you want to go out.”
“It’s Sunday night.”
“And? Are you a grandpa or something? Having pot roast with the kids? Come on. What better way to start the week?”
“Not all of us are party animals lately. Don’t you ever just want a quiet night at home?”
I think about it. “Not tonight I don’t. Come on.”
“Is that Cash?” I hear a bubbly voice yell from the background. “Does he want to go out?”
“See, even Jodie knows I’m good for a good time.”
Levi sighs. “All right. But just one drink.”
“That’s what they all say,” I murmur as I click the phone, feeling better about getting out, getting b
ack to my comfort zone.
Fourteen
Sage
“So what was his reward?” Harper asks, winking at me. We’re out for coffee Monday morning. We’re supposed to be reviewing some marketing plans and some design elements, but as usual, our meeting has turned into a love life gossip session. And the focus is, as usual, me.
“Nothing. I just said thank you.”
“With your body?” Harper asks, giggling.
“Harper, really. Are you fifteen?”
“Sage, really, are you a hundred? Come on. You know the man only drove the whole way over because he thought returning your cat would score him some points.”
“And it did. I was very appreciative.”
“So you didn’t think about jumping his bones? Not once?” she asks.
I roll my eyes, taking a sip of coffee. Harper is easily distracted. Maybe she’ll change the subject. After a long swallow of coffee, though, she’s still sitting across from me, blinking. I sigh.
“Okay, yes, he smelled amazing. And his outfit looked good. I’d sort of forgotten how good he looks. But it was just physical, nothing more.”
“So why didn’t you invite him to stay, to get physical?”
“Because. I don’t want him getting any ideas.”
“What? Like that you like him?”
“I don’t like him.”
She raises an eyebrow at me. I can’t lie. Even I can hear how weak my assurance is.
“Look, he seems like an okay guy. But you know I don’t have time for this. What, are we going to spend the summer going out to dinner and to the movies? He’ll buy me flowers, and I’ll confess my love to him… and then what? We’ll spend maybe six months or a year together; we’ll get bored or fight over money or realize we’re not compatible, and it’ll be over? I’ll be crying into a tub of ice cream, buy another cat to cover my sadness, and think about all the wasted time and effort? What’s the point? Why not just skip over it all, enjoy the fun parts, and forget about the rest?”
“I swear, Sage Everling, you should’ve been a man. You are the most emotionless woman I know.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it. Don’t you ever want to just let your heart go? To experience passion and loyalty and connection? Don’t you ever feel like that’s missing?”
I consider her words for a minute. “Yeah. But then I remember the other assholes I gave a chance. I think about how many months I cried over Kevin and how many times I got pissed over Mark. I think about all the suffering, all the distraction, and I realize this whole sex and nothing more thing is perfect.”
“Well, I don’t care what you say. Cash Creed isn’t like Kevin or Mark. For one, he’s way hotter. And two, I think he could keep you interested much longer than a year. Plus, I think no matter what you tell yourself, you’re interested. You like him. So stop being all crazy.”
I stir my coffee, wondering why my chest feels heavy. I hate this. I hate that Harper’s sort of right. I hate that all night last night, I was in bed thinking about how things could be different if I’d have asked the question I wanted to ask, if I’d have asked Cash to stay. I think about what it would’ve been like to wake up in his arms this morning, to make breakfast for him and to drink coffee on the balcony. I think about how good it would feel to share my fears and worries, my dreams for Evermore with someone besides just my employees.
I brush it off. It’s stupid. It’s senseless. Even if I could get over this whole fear, who says he could?
“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” I say. “Because I’m going out tonight.”
“With who?”
“That PR manager from our fabric distributor, Steven. He’s going to the club tonight, some party. Asked if I want to stop by.”
“Wait, is this that hippie-trippy guy with the long black ponytail?”
“That’s him.”
“He’s so not your type.”
“Who says hippie isn’t my type? He’s into business. He’s sexy.”
“You know this is just a rebound.”
“How can you rebound when you serially aren’t dating?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
“You know what I mean. This is so you can convince yourself Cash Creed means nothing.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Thank God you’re a much better business owner than liar. Because that was the suckiest lie I’ve ever heard. But whatever. I hope Steven gives you a rocking good time tonight.”
“I’m sure he will. Now, about those designs….” I say, shoving my coffee to the side so she can unfold her portfolio.
“About the designs that are going to skyrocket us to the top,” Harper says, animatedly. I love seeing her passion for her work.
I think about that, about how Harper lives her life with passion. Her relationship with Brad, her work—she puts everything on the table quite literally. It must be freeing to live like that. Then again, she’s had quite a different upbringing and quite a different view of love.
Two parents who are madly in love thirty-seven years after tying the knot. A simple upbringing with dinners at the table, cousins over for the holidays, and playing in the backyard. She learned early on that love didn’t hurt, and that life was about finding companionship.
As she talks about hemlines and stitches, I try to listen, try to block out the self-pitying notions about how life could be so much different if I’d have had parents different from mine. Then again, is it fair to blame them for everything? Is it truly their fault I’m an ice queen when it comes to matters of the heart? Is it completely their fault that my perfectionist tendencies mixed with my pessimism about love make me so afraid to get hurt?
I don’t know. There’s a whole hell of a lot I don’t know.
But I do know Steven will be a good distraction tonight, and God knows I need that right about now.
Fifteen
Sage
“So, dance, drinks, or both?” Steven asks me as I stroll into the Marooned Pirate on his arm. I’ve got my sky-high stilettos on and some jeans so tight I can barely breathe. His jet-black hair is back in a loose ponytail, and he’s wearing a shark-tooth necklace.
He looks super bohemian—and super not my type.
But he’s fun, he’s free, and he was all about going out for a good time. And I know more than anything this week, that’s what I need. From the Monticello debacle to the whole Cash thing—the thing that isn’t a thing, I remind myself—I need to get away from all this.
“Drinks, then dancing,” I say. “Martini to start, please.”
He kisses my hand in what’s supposed to be a suave move, and it’s kind of cute. But in truth, I’m not feeling it. I sigh, leaning on the bar, glancing out at the dance floor. I’m hoping to get my head in the game. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. Maybe I should’ve gone to the warehouse tonight and worked on inventory. Or maybe I should’ve stayed home with the cats. But it’s too late. I might as well see this whole thing through with Steven.
A new song comes on, and apparently the crowd isn’t digging it because there’s a mass exodus. Steven orders our drinks behind me, and I’m staring at the dance floor that’s now almost empty. Except right in the middle are two people.
Cash Creed, his hands wandering over a tall, tight, tan brunette whose skirt is so short, it could probably count for underwear. They’re basically eating each other alive, their kiss so steamy even I’m blushing. She pulls back and giggles wildly, pawing at his chest. They start dancing, her moves definitely stripper inspired. I shake my head. Unreal. So unreal.
“Hey, here’s your drink,” a voice murmurs in my ear. I jump, forgetting that Steven is with me. I can’t take my eyes off Cash Creed, who is smiling that gorgeous smile at her, who is murmuring in her ear. He’s probably saying all the things he said to me. And I don’t know why, but it pisses me off. Royally pisses me off.
Just last night, he was teasing me with those eyes, bringing my cat back like some sweet hero in a romance novel. Now, he’s here wit
h another woman, clutching onto her like she’s his everything. Thank God I didn’t invite him to stay. Thank God I’m moving on. But dammit, my blood is boiling. The sight of him with her—it just infuriates me.
“Be right back,” I say sweetly to Steven, turning to look at him. He looks confused. Hell, I’m confused. What right do I have to be pissed? I’m here doing the same thing. But I’m not hanging all over Steven… yet. God, this is enraging. This is why I don’t get seriously involved. This is exactly why I keep things simple. I’m starting to sound like an insane, desperate, clingy woman with a man who isn’t even mine.
No matter how much I tell myself to just slow down, take a breath, I can’t seem to stop my stilettos from marching out onto the dance floor. I have no plan for once in my life, and I’ve got no time to think about it. Before I know it, I’m tapping Cash Creed on the shoulder, his date of the night turning to eye me. I smile at her.
“Hi, how are you?” I ask. Wow, Sage, great one. Great plan.
“Sage, hi, how are you? How’s Monticello?” He grins at me like I’m some acquaintance he’s so happy to meet.
“He’s great. What are you doing here? Who’s this?” I ask, like I have a right to know. The brunette twirls her ponytail like some high school cheerleader. The only way it would be more fitting is if she were loudly cracking her bubblegum.
“Oh, this is Prudence,” Cash says.
“Hi, I’m Prudence,” she announces. I smile weakly back. She keeps twirling her hair. I’m pretty sure she’s about twenty-two going on thirteen. Seriously.
“So,” I say.
“So, is that lonely looking hippie guy in the corner your date tonight?” he asks, and I turn to see Steven standing with his hands in his pockets by an empty table, our drinks sitting on it. He’s staring like a lost puppy. For some reason, it makes me sad.
“Yeah, we’re here for a good time.”
“Well, so are we. Want to join us on the dance floor?”
I stare at him, disbelieving of what I’ve just heard. What, we’re going to bump and grind, the four of us in some odd little date?
Lone Hearts (Lines in the Sand Book 6) Page 9
