Chapter 16 #2
Cassandra told me about her father and growing up here in Quince Valley.
How he’d been the main caregiver—played with the kids while her mom ran the hotel.
Took them fishing. Helped them with their homework.
I thought about my nephew Arthur, how much fun we had together.
I never thought about having kids—in fact, if anyone asked, it was easy to tell people Lila and I were too busy with work.
But right now, sitting here with Cassandra—her talking about a happy childhood, one where everyone didn’t sit strained at the table, the dad complaining about everything that wasn’t right with each of them—I couldn’t help imagine a different life.
For the briefest moment, I let myself think of what I could have had with a woman like Cassandra. A real marriage. A family.
The image crushed me.
“When’s he coming home?” I asked, forcing brightness into my voice.
She looked down, and I knew this was a sore point for her. “I don’t know. I keep asking him, but he says he’s not ready. He’s still grieving, I know. They lived in each other’s pockets, Mom and Dad, right until the very end.”
My heart hurt for Cassandra now. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I feel like people forget, when they’re hurting, that they can still affect other people.”
I thought of Lila now, and how she looked away when she saw me struggle. How I knew she knew this was hard for me, but was too scared of her own pain to tell me to go.
We were reaching the end of the treed part of this path. Up ahead was the end of the course, the rest of the trail naked and exposed.
I pulled the cart to a stop. When I looked at Cassandra, her expression was impossibly sad.
I brushed a knuckle against her cheek. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. But I felt like the word was losing its meaning. How could I be sorry and still leave her?
“You know, I said I wouldn’t do this,” she said.
“Do what?”
“Trust another man again.”
My stomach clenched. I wanted to tell her she could trust me, but I’d be lying. I couldn’t keep from hurting her. She could trust me with anything else, but promising I wouldn’t hurt her? The tears on her cheek were evidence I’d broken that promise before I’d even made it.
“I wish… I wish things could be different, Cassandra.”
She sat up and smoothed her hair, looking over at me. Then she lowered her hands and looked ahead out the front of the cart. The rain had abated; the only drops now coming from the tree branches.
“Why did you offer to marry her, Blake? You’re a savvy businessman. You knew fake-marrying Lila would mean you were forsaking your own happiness.”
“My life isn’t terrible.” I hated the defensive edge I heard in my voice.
She was quiet.
I ran my hand through my hair.
She deserved honesty. Hell, I needed to be honest with myself.
“I never thought of myself as the marrying type. It didn’t go well for my parents. It’s not going well for my brother. I just—I know it’s ironic, but things are cleaner this way.”
“Where you can’t have a real relationship with a woman you care about. That’s what you mean, right?”
I shifted in my seat.
“I am happy,” I said. I knew that biting those words out contradicted them. I could hear myself. But I didn’t know how to fix myself.
Finally, Cassandra shook her head, looking resigned. “It doesn’t matter. This was never supposed to happen, right? So we can leave it as it is, its own discrete memory just for us.”
“Yeah,” I said. At least this one I’d get to keep.
I took the pictures I needed to, and we’d said goodbye as politely as if we were leaving a corporate meeting.
I might have imagined the day as a fever dream, if it weren’t for the way it kept replaying in my mind.
The visuals were so intense—not to mention the physical aftershocks.
It wasn’t just the sex, either. It was Cassandra, in the cart, telling me about her life.
Cassandra, in the sun shower, spinning around like an angel.
Cassandra, everywhere, in all my senses, seared there as if for life.
The minute I got home, I’d pulled on my trunks and jumped straight into the pool.
I swam at least a dozen vigorous laps, letting the water sluicing off my skin take the memories with it. It worked, a little.
But what finally expunged Cassandra Kelly from my brain that night was when I came up for air and saw a pair of black pumps on the pool deck in front of me.
I startled. “Jesus, Lila, you scared the hell out of me.”
“We need to talk.” Her arms were folded across her chest, her phone tucked into her hand.
My stomach dropped a few notches.
She knows.
Had she seen me come home with grass clippings or leaf-blower gas all over my suit jacket? Something worse?
“You’ve been ignoring my texts,” Lila said after I’d gotten dressed. She’d been waiting for me outside on the lounge chair.
Shit—I hadn’t even looked at my phone since earlier this morning.
But Lila looked pissed, but not code-red level, and she hadn’t insisted we talk before I got dressed. It wasn’t Cassandra.
If not that, then what?
“Goldman’s been sniffing around Persephone.”
Lila thought this would put the fear of God in me. But I let out a breath, relieved. Business—this I could handle.
Persephone was a giant bookseller chain that was next up on our operational review slot. They’d booked us in last year.
They were going to be business 101. I’d hardly thought at all of what would come after number 100.
But I wasn’t afraid of losing them. “It’s fine, I’m tight with John,” I said.
Getting Persephone’s business had been easy.
Their CEO, who was headquartered in the UK, had sought me out, and I’d sold him a full review in half an hour flat.
He’d taken all the advice I’d given him so far without complaint.
“Well, he sent us a courtesy email letting us know he was considering going with them.”
The lightest pang of worry hit me. Were my instincts off? Was I getting sloppy?
“I thought you might want to call him to reassure him personally that we’re looking forward to getting to his review. I know how you like to travel.”
I almost laughed. I always took the overseas work, looking forward to the long stints of solitude—at least in my hotel room.
Long stints where I could pretend to be someone else, someone who wasn’t entangled in this messy as hell life.
It was the only time I enjoyed the company of other women, if I felt like it.
But the thought of that made me physically sick.
Still, it wouldn’t do us any good to lose his business, not when I wouldn’t see any return on our work here until the Kellys implemented the plan Brynn had already started writing up.
“Fine, I’ll call him. Anything else?”
Lila hesitated, then folded and refolded her hands. She glanced over to her and Brynn’s place—Brynn was inside, moving around in the kitchen. Then she looked at me directly. “We need to talk about Cassandra Kelly.”
Fuck.
“No, we don’t.”
I realized she likely only had suspicions, and I’d just confirmed them.
Lila took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring.
I considered giving her the denial she’d been waiting for. But I couldn’t lie to Lila. She knew me too well. I looked her in the eye. “Lila, I’m human, okay? I have… urges.”
“Is that what it is? Urges?”
I’d been trying to downplay it, but now that she said it, it sounded cheap. But if I could convince Lila that’s all it was, we’d all be better off. Including me.
“It’s probably amplified because I can’t have her,” I said.
I knew I was lying to myself. Still, Lila looked relieved.
“I’m not going to be seeing her for the rest of the week anyway.” I picked up the towel I’d left out here earlier. “I’m doing the rec stuff with Jude.” I’d planned on doing more touring with Cassandra this week, but it wasn’t necessary for her to accompany me. I could ask Jude to do it.
Some space would probably do us good after today.
Maybe it would be best if we didn’t see each other again at all.
That was impossible given our professional relationship, but maybe I could find a way.
You’re being a chickenshit.
“Fine,” Lila said. “Just… think very carefully about what you do. A lot of us depend on that.”
Guilt plunged through me.
I looked up to avoid looking at her face. I’d already betrayed Lila’s trust. But I’d do more damage if I let my feelings dictate my actions.
The sky overhead was a patchwork of white and blue now. The sunset from up at the resort would be stunning. Would Cassandra be watching it?
“I’ll figure it out, okay, Lila?” I said. “Don’t worry about me.”
Then I strode back into my lonely little house where I could sulk in peace.