3. Cassie
3
CASSIE
S onny's on 5th was always jam-packed. Not just because the food was impeccable but the ambience was out of this world. The restaurant looked like it was plucked from a catalog and you were transported to an exotic location. Not Midtown Manhattan.
While I memorized the specials, my back pressed against the bar, Audrey cleaned wine glasses to prepare for a lunch Bridget was hosting. As if I conjured her with my thoughts, I heard her heels clack against the hardwood as Bridget approached us at the bar.
“Oh good, you’re both here. I need you to work in the garden today. My guests should be here any minute and that tart Fatima pulled a no-call, no-show. Everything needs to be perfect. This is the first time I’m meeting one of Holden’s friends, for Christ’s sake. Cassie, bring out three glasses of that new Pinot Noir for them to try. And don’t think I didn’t notice you were five minutes late!” Bridget demanded, snapping her fingers as she walked away, not even bothering to wait for a response.
The lunch rush had the restaurant booming. Food was coming out at lightning speed. Drinks were being slung at the bar, and the lively chatter surrounded me as I hustled around the restaurant.
I’d just grabbed the metal tray with the three glasses of wine Bridget had requested when a tendril of hair hung down in front of me. I blew the hair out of my face, and the tray wobbled as my hands shook. Stupid, imperfectly pinned-up hair.
I couldn’t help but bite my lip, nervous to be serving Bridget and her guests. As long as I’d been waitressing, my shaky hands were still the fatal flaw I struggled to manage. After settling myself, I watched Bridget sit down before I began walking over to the table. Holding my breath, I prayed I made it without spilling.
I reached the view of the table and was met with Bridget’s scowling face.
Another deep breath, Cassie. Almost there, don’t drop anything, I tried to mentally coach myself. One step, two steps. Slow down .
I plastered a smile on my face and focused on the table where I intended to set the drinks down, and then I heard him.
“Yes, Adams Point was featured in the Times ?—”
My steps faltered and the shaking hands came back with a vengeance. The tray began to tip and I scrambled to regain purchase on the metal disk. I made the mistake of looking up and was met with a pair of familiar green eyes. The way they widened in shock must have mirrored my own.
Glass shattered on the white tablecloth as my tray tipped all the way over. Red liquid pooled atop the table, dripping onto the laps of the three people seated there. He jumped up out of his seat as the wine began to soak his trousers.
“Oh my God.”
I stood there frozen, staring at him. I wasn't sure who had uttered the words. It could have been me; it could have been him.
The green eyes pierced into my own with a look I wasn’t acquainted with. His expression flickered between shock and raw emotion. Neither one of us moved. We just stood there like statues, staring at one another. It seemed as if both of us were afraid to look away, likely because we thought the other would disappear if we did.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Cassandra?” Bridget shrieked, climbing out of her chair, her lap stained with red wine.
The spell broke as I cringed from the venom in Bridget’s voice. “I’m so sorry.” It was nothing more than a whisper. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d felt so weak.
I spent the last ten years running away from him. And here he was, standing in front of me, like no time had passed at all.
I looked away from him and glanced first at Bridget’s expression of disgust and then to Holden’s sympathetic face. There was nothing worse than pity. I turned and bolted for the exit. I couldn’t do this. Not here, not now.
“Cassie!” he called from behind me.
I heard footsteps following me as I maneuvered through the busy restaurant. Bypassing Audrey at the bar, I exited the double doors leading to the alleyway of the establishment. As I doubled over, trying to catch my breath and ward off a panic attack, I gasped and clutched my stomach.
The door creaked open behind me, and I was met with the one person who both stole my breath and gave me the air I needed. I exhaled in what felt like the first time in a decade.
“Matthew.”