Ask Cassandra

Chapter Three

[Cassie] Got my car back!

[Laodice] What was the problem?

[Cassie] *shrug emoji*

[Cassie] Honestly, the mechanic did tell me, but all I heard her say was “not a big deal, ninety dollars please.”

[Laodice] *crying emoji*

[Cassie] Next time I’ll take notes for you.

[Laodice] Ys pls. How was your first day?

[Cassie] My boss’s mother hates me, and his uncle is an Old White Dude Who Knows Better Than You

[Laodice] boooooooo. How’s the boss?

[Cassie] He’s good.

She hesitated, but…

[Cassie] Kind of hot, actually. Though obviously not going there. And his mom says he’s seeing someone.

[Laodice] 60% of adults have a workplace romance!

[Cassie] It can’t possibly be that many. What were the criteria for “romance?”

[Xena] do me and Zac count as workplace romance?

[Cassie] No, you’re both self-employed in the same field. You just guest on each other’s content a lot.

[Xena] hm

[Xena] not much from this manny guy on socials. Just linkedin and old facebook.

[Cassie] It doesn’t matter, because I’m not going there. Go stalk my date for tomorrow, Isaac Corey from Idlewild. Banker.

[Xena] hmmmmmmmmmm

[Xena] even less.

[Xena] honestly, could be scrubbed

[Xena] red flag

[Cassie] Not everybody is online fourteen hours a day, Zee

[Laodice] Some of us are even detoxing from social media because it’s better to be in the now.

[Xena] did your barista say that when you asked for his insta?

[Laodice] He said he prefers face to face interactions

[Xena] yeah, at his job, where he works

Three dots appeared by Laodice’s name, then disappeared, then appeared again

[Cassie] Okay, time out. Do you want some advice?

[Xena] no

[Laodice] sure

[Cassie] L, stop flirting. Ask him out, once, and if it’s anything other than an enthusiastic yes, it’s a no. And prepare for no, btw, this is what happens when you crush on people whose job it is to literally serve you.

[Laodice] ugggggggh ok

[Cassie] Zee, as requested, no comment.

[Xena] yeah but I can feel you thinking it. FINE i’ll stop being a bitch. Sorry L.

[Laodice] 3 everything okay?

[Xena] the comments were a lot today.

[Xena] DO NOT READ OR RESPOND

[Xena] CASSIE THIS MEANS YOU

[Cassie] You tell off the people being mean to your little sister ONE time…

[Xena] fr tho don’t!!

[Cassie] No, I won’t. I’m sorry.

[Laodice] Did Mom tell you guys to check your breasts?

[Xena] yeah

[Xena] think I might use it for content

[Xena] you guys want in? Family bonding over boobs?

[Laodice] No thanks

[Cassie] Absolutely not

[Xena] weenies

Around noon the next day, Manny wondered if Cassie might want a break. He’d seen the lights of her car drive in last night, and heard her footsteps along the third floor while he was on the phone with a wholesaler, but he hadn’t seen the actual woman all morning.

He’d thought about her, though, once or twice or half a dozen times. The way she’d thanked him for lunch and admired his hospitality. The way she’d plucked that leaf from his beard and grinned up at him with her soft, lush mouth.

He went up to the attic, to see if she wanted lunch, but Cassie wasn’t there. Her work was. He must have missed a couple of journeys to the attic, because she’d brought up more equipment. More archive boxes, flattened. Scissors, several different kinds of tape and glue, a roll of white paper, so thin it was almost translucent. Her laptop was closed, but he spent a minute admiring the stickers collaged on the lid. There was a great one of a deranged raccoon eating potato chips, and another that declared “Archivists do it in the metadata”, but his favorite was a Maenad College alumna sticker showing a snake-haired woman holding a man’s decapitated head.

When he went looking for Cassie downstairs, he found her trapped at the kitchen table with two empty plates and his mother.

“—don’t really mind the cold that much, Mrs. Pelopson,” Cassie was saying. She sent him a single panicked glance as he walked in. She was too well-mannered to mouth help me, but Manny got the message.

“But surely you find it gloomy, with all the—oh, hello, Manfred.”

“Hello, Mother,” he said, and sat on Aerope’s other side, so that she was forced to turn away from Cassie to talk to him. “Weren’t you working today?”

“Berenice swapped shifts with me so she can get a mammogram next week.” She swiveled back to Cassie. “I thought Cassie might want something for lunch.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a better quiche,” Cassie said. “You’re an amazing cook, Mrs. Pelopson.”

“Yours is keeping warm in the oven, Manfred.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s a shame I can’t serve it cold. I prefer cold quiche, personally, but it’s just too chilly for it. Did you say your last job was in the South, Cassie? You must be finding it difficult to adjust.”

“It’s nice and warm in the house, even in the attic,” Cassie said. “I’ve been meaning to ask, Manny, can I actually light that fire in the guest cottage?”

“You bet. I had the chimney checked when I refurbished. There’s a wood pile out the back.”

“That sounds amazing,” Cassie said, and he got a little dizzy with the idea of her sprawled in front of that fire, heat glowing in her cheeks.

He coughed. “We’re supposed to have good weather this afternoon and evening, so I planned a run. If you didn’t have plans, I could show you one of the routes I use, maybe get the fire started for you?”

“Cassie has a date tonight,” Aerope cut in. “With Isaac Corey.”

“Oh,” Manny said. “Oh, cool. Did you guys meet yesterday or…?”

Cassie gave him a look he couldn’t quite interpret. “We chatted a little bit before I started the job,” she said. “Maybe you and I could go for that run tomorrow?” She stood up. “Thank you for lunch, Mrs. Pelopson. I’d better get back to it.”

“I imagine you want to leave early,” Aerope said. “To get ready for your date.” She gave Cassie a smile.

“That’s very kind, but I’m happy to keep going. I’ve got good momentum.”

The smile disappeared. Manny spotted the signs of his mother readying another sortie and stepped hurriedly into the breach. “What’s that really thin paper called?”

“Glassine,” Cassie said. “It preserves and protects photographs.”

“But we have albums,” Aerope said, momentarily diverted.

“Photos fall out,” Cassie said diplomatically. “I found a loose one yesterday.” She nodded at both of them and left, probably before Aerope could find a reason to be offended at that.

“Thanks for lunch, Mother,” Manny said, and pulled his quiche out of the oven warmer. “I thought I’d walk through the carriage house after lunch, start making some lists of what we’ll need for the renovation.”

“That sounds nice, dear,” Aerope said, but she was frowning at the door Cassie had just walked through. “That young woman has an answer for everything.”

“Yes, because she’s good at her job,” Manny said. “Please let her do it.”

Aerope transferred her frown to him. “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re thinking.”

“This quiche smells great,” Manny said, and tucked in.

Cassie had come to the conclusion that, since bribery hadn’t worked, Aerope Pelopson was trying to drive her from the job through sheer irritation. After that agonizing lunch, Aerope had come into the attic three more times, offering coffee, fresh-baked scones (admittedly delicious), and reiterating her offer for Cassie to leave early to get to her big date.

That last time, she’d stuck around the archives, watching Cassie work, claiming to find it fascinating, and asking questions about her previous jobs.

Cassie couldn’t concentrate on the work, she couldn’t tell her to go away without being rude, and she couldn’t walk away herself because that would be letting Aerope win. Her pace slowed to a crawl, and she’d caught herself accidentally entering data in the wrong cells twice, which meant she’d probably done it more often than that. She was going to have to doublecheck the spreadsheet tomorrow.

And that was only if she could get any more concentration time tomorrow. Aerope had brightly informed her that while she had the morning shift at the library, she’d be home all afternoon. Cassie reminded herself that Steph Marshall liked the woman, so there must be something to like, gritted her teeth, and kept doing the best she could.

She made it to 5pm, barely, and returned the half-completed box to the archives before she locked the door.

“Do you lock it every time?” Aerope asked, for once sounding genuinely interested instead of ice cold or syrupy sweet.

“It’s protocol for any archival space that can lock,” Cassie said. “Our instructors were very firm about securing archives. It’s one of the best ways to guarantee provenance.”

She was half-expecting Aerope to object or frostily point out that only the Pelopsons had access to the house, and it was their archive, but the woman just nodded and followed Cassie down the stairs, wishing her well on her date.

The back door shutting behind her sounded like defeat, and Cassie walked back to the guest house, thinking hard. If Aerope pulled something like that again, she was going to have to speak to Manny about the hostile working environment. The problem was that there wasn’t an HR department here, and her line of report was one person. And she didn’t know where Aerope fitted in.

The archives belonged to Manny; that much she’d gathered from the car conversation between Aerope and Theo on her first arrival. Manny should therefore be legally allowed to employ anyone he wanted to do things with them. But legal wasn’t always the same as possible.

For example, was Tantalus a company that employed Manny, or had Aerope inherited an owner’s share from her husband? And if so, was that where Cassie’s fee was ultimately coming from? Would telling Manny about the bribe and asking him to keep Aerope out of the attic result in an ultimatum from his mother-boss?

If she were giving advice in Ask Cassandra, she’d tell the letter writer to put everything in writing, where it could be referred to later in case of a legal dispute. But she thought Manny was on the level. And he’d told her to tell him if Aerope were getting out of line. Actually, he’d said “it’s my job to take care of you” and he’d sounded like he’d meant it. Which was just an employer’s obligation, of course, no need to get quivery over it.

She ran a bath, still thinking, and sank into the hot water with a sigh. Probably everyone who thought their boss was a good guy would be reluctant to tattle on his mom in writing. But “he has an excellent butt” and “he fed me a sandwich” and “I’m pretty sure he wants to make out with me, and that’s flattering” were not a good basis for business decisions. She wrapped herself in the plush, oversized robe Xena had given her for her birthday, and tapped out a quick email.

She left it in the drafts folder. Sending it could wait until after this date.

Cassie’s first impression of Isaac Corey was favorable. He was big and handsome, a hefty guy who’d obviously shaved and showered for the occasion. That was a point for him, and so was the fact that, allowing for some minor filtering and different lighting, he looked like his pictures.

He was sitting at a table near the wall, and he looked up hopefully as she approached. She’d considered wearing the one dress she’d brought with her, but she could bring that out for a second date, if there was to be one. Instead, she was wearing black pants and a sparkling, galaxy print top that she knew for a fact made her breasts look fantastic.

Isaac’s eyes snagged on her cleavage for a moment, and then went to her face, which was another point in his favor.

“Isaac?” she said. “I’m Cassie.”

“Hey!” he said, and stood up, going for a hug.

Cassie thrust her hand out instead. He hesitated, and shook it. “Nice to see you in person.”

“Ditto,” Cassie said. “This place is neat.”

Isaac looked around as if he were seeing the bar for the first time. The low ceilings and exposed rafters were probably compulsory, but whoever had decorated had veered away from the traditional colonial vibe. The tables were topped with grey and white tiles set into timber frames. Isaac had taken a table in the middle of the room, but against the walls were booths with high-backed, red-cushioned benches. Above each table was one of those complicated folded lightshades, which looked to be made out of comic book pages, although closer inspection revealed it to be some kind of plastic—hopefully heat-resistant. Stylized vector art of cult films lined the walls, and a funky plastic stegosaurus sat on their own table, a hand-lettered RESERVED sign sticking out of a slot cut in his back.

“I guess,” he said. “It didn’t used to look like this.”

Cassie sat down. The lamp on their table was a glass alien skull with a tealight burning merrily inside. “What did it used to look like?”

Isaac looked around the bar again. “I don’t know. More adult.”

“Most of those are films for adults,” Cassie said, pointing at a cheerful rendition of The Exorcist. “I think there’s a lot of room for fun in adult lives.”

Isaac grinned at her, eyes glinting. “Yeah? When was the last time you had some adult fun?”

Cassie smiled. “Oh, I don’t think we know each other well enough to compare schedules.”

“Me, two months ago.”

So she’d signaled a boundary, and he’d ignored it. Awesome. Well, she had a guaranteed subject-changer. “Two months ago I was down south, finding pressed lizards in a Florida basement.”

“Huh,” Isaac said. “That’s weird.” He waved at the bartender, a pretty woman with long dark hair, and after a moment she came over. “What do you want to drink?”

“Do you have any Tantalus wines?” Cassie asked the bartender.

“Sure do. Their merlot’s pretty good.”

“One of those, thanks.”

“Whiskey on the rocks,” Isaac said. He winked at the bartender. “But just one, this time, Laura.”

Laura made an expression that wasn’t quite a smile and turned back to the bar. Cassie looked at Isaac. “Just one?” she asked mildly.

“Oh, three months ago I was ordering two at a time,” he said, and gave her a sidelong look. “Not now. But things were pretty rough after my wife left. Did I mention that?”

“I don’t think so,” Cassie said, opting not to tell him that Aerope had.

“Well, she did. She was cheating on me, not the other way around, if you were worried.”

“I’m really sorry,” Cassie said. She meant it. The betrayal had clearly left a mark.

“But I’m over that now,” Isaac said, and spent the next twenty minutes telling her what a massive bitch his ex-wife was. Cassie’s sympathy drained rapidly. She limited her responses to nodding, vaguely affirmative noises, and “that sounds hard.” Isaac seemed to be veering between getting his resentment out or making a play for her sympathy, neither of which were pleasant as an audience. He also didn’t ask her a single question about herself.

Sadly, Cassie had had worse dates. He wasn’t getting sloppy drunk, or making negative comments about her body designed to lower her self-esteem. But he was rude and boring, and she didn’t like some of the phrases he used about his ex, so this was definitely a one-and-done first meeting.

She thought about staging a retreat via the bathroom and the back door, but she wasn’t sure he’d done anything bad enough to warrant a ghosting. Instead she waited for a brief pause, and put her glass down. “Well, that’s my drink done,” she said.

“Did you want another?” Isaac said. “Do you want to get dinner? Or we could get out of here. My place isn’t far.”

For the love of all that was holy. If he thought she was going home with him, he hadn’t paid any attention whatsoever.

“No, that’s all right,” Cassie said, standing up. “I think I’ll call it a night.”

Isaac stared at her. “What? Why?”

“Well,” Cassie said, rapidly discarding possible answers, “It was good to meet you, but I’m going to get going now.”

“You only just got here! It’s been like ten minutes.”

It had, in fact, been half an hour of her life that she was never getting back, but Cassie didn’t want to be drawn into an argument that would waste even more time on this man. “Okay,” she said. “Good night.” She should probably offer to pay for her drink, but the way he was squinting at her was setting off alarm bells.

Sure enough, the next thing out of his mouth was, “That’s pretty fucking rude.”

Okay, then. He was definitely on the hook for her drink. “I guess so,” Cassie said, and walked towards the coat rack. She’d hoped to get away smoothly, but she heard the scrape of his chair on the wooden floor.

“Hey! I said, you’re being really rude!”

“I heard.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Cassie zipped up her jacket and surveyed the bar for possible assistance. The bartender was coming towards them, her pretty face determined. Some of the locals were pretending not to notice, which wasn’t useful, but some were definitely paying attention, which…could go either way, really.

“I’m leaving,” she told Isaac again, and took a step backwards. She didn’t want him right behind her, and she wanted to know he wasn’t going to follow her into the parking lot.

He grabbed the sleeve of her jacket and tugged. Cassie wasn’t normally very tuggable, but Isaac was a big man, and she rocked forward a couple of steps.

Right. The line was well and truly crossed.

“Let me go, asshole,” she said, loud and clear. A few more locals were definitely paying attention.

“Look,” he said, forcing a smile. “Look, just give me a chance. You haven’t really given me a chance—”

“The lady’s leaving, Isaac, and you ought to stay put while she does,” the pretty bartender said, and Isaac glared at her.

“Stay out of this,” he said.

She shook her head. “Stay out of you making trouble in my bar?”

“I’ve been drinking in this bar from before you were born, Laura May.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “You’re only six years older than me, Isaac Corey. If you were drinking in this bar back then, it was soda.”

Cassie took advantage of the distraction to tug her arm free, and felt the door open at her back.

“What the hell is going on here?” someone demanded, and Cassie risked a glance over her shoulder. Steph Marshall had just come in. With her candy-pink hair and a white puffer jacket, she looked like an adorable cartoon mascot, but the scowl she was directing at Isaac ruined the effect a little.

“I’m leaving,” Cassie told her. “Isaac wanted me to stay, but I think he gets that’s not going to happen now.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Steph said instantly, and Cassie could have hugged her. She was too angry to be actually scared, but she absolutely did not want to be alone in that parking lot.

“Now, Isaac, you come with me and I’ll get you another gin and tonic,” Laura was saying, her tone conciliatory, and Cassie knew exactly what she was doing. She slipped out while Isaac was distracted, and Steph fell in beside her as they crunched through the parking lot grit.

“I’m sorry,” Steph said. “What a welcome we’ve given you. Broken down car, terrible date, and there’ll probably be a storm within a week or so.”

Cassie looked up instinctively, and Steph laughed. “Not right away! We’re clear for the next few days, at least.”

“I sort of hoped the snow would melt soon,” Cassie confessed.

“Well, the first thaw won’t be too far away. But we’ll likely still get some snow through to April, and I’ve known storms in late May. Not recently, though, given climate change and all.” She stopped by Cassie’s car. “There you go.”

“Is this going to make any trouble for you?” Cassie asked as she climbed in.

“Me? No. Trouble for Isaac, maybe. He’s been pushing his luck as it is.” She rapped her knuckles on the hood. “Text me when you get home? Safe driving.”

Manny tipped another armful of trash into the dumpster and took a moment to stretch and breathe. It was just after noon, and one of those bright winter days that you learned to cherish out here. Light gleamed on the bare tree limbs in the apple orchard, and made even the churned snow and mud in the yard more appealing. He was eager to get the carriage house cleared before the weather turned, but his body was humming with the warm satisfaction of physical exertion, and in this brief pause, he drank in the peace and the cold air.

Then he turned back to the carriage house, and felt worry grip him again.

The guest house had been built in the 1930s, reputedly to house the irascible father-in-law of Theophilius Pelopson. They’d kept it as a guest house ever since, renovating as fashion and changing building standards demanded. Privately, Manny thought his cottagecore redesign was the best of the lot. Sure, Cassie seemed to find it hilarious, but she’d still praised the comfort.

The carriage house was a different story. It was a big building, built in the late 1890s, designed as part-stables, part carriage and tack storage space. The introduction of the automobile soon after had eliminated the need for the Pelopsons to keep horses, and the space had been used for a garage for a while. Eventually, it had suffered the fate of many garages and become a repository for stuff to be thrown away “later.”

The Pelopsons had put the things someone thought were worth keeping in the attic. Everything else had come out here. Leftover tiles and bricks, lumber off-cuts, half-full paint cans, obsolete machinery and other trash, all of it just stacked against walls or piled up on the concrete floor. The building itself had been well-maintained—no derelict hulks allowed on Pelopson property—and the brick facade and exposed beams would appeal to exactly the demographic he was hoping to lure. The architect at Appleton Construction had agreed when she’d come out to do the initial planning survey, enthusiastically maneuvering around the obstacles to measure and plot out the possibilities. But all those obstacles had to be moved before the real work could begin.

And his projections for clearing it out himself had been…optimistic.

“You’re making excellent progress, dear,” Aerope said behind him, and Manny straightened.

“Are you developing psychic abilities, Mother?” he asked.

She smiled fondly at him. “I’ve always had them, Manfred. How else would I have survived bringing up you and your brother? Come into the house for a bite.” She linked her arm in his and drew him towards the big house. “Here’s a thought. Since you’re paying Cassandra to sort and organize things, why don’t you ask her to help you clear out the carriage house?”

“That’s not the job I hired her for.”

“Very similar, though,” Aerope said brightly. “Lots of family history in there. You should at least show her around. She might spot something that might be better off preserved.”

“I suppose,” Manny conceded. Would Cassie like the carriage house? He wouldn’t ask her to cart trash out, but there was enough antique machinery in there that it might have some historical interest, at that.

“You should call her down for lunch, then take her out to see it.”

That was his mother’s planning voice. She was definitely planning something. Manny squinted at her suspiciously. He could have sworn that yesterday, she’d wanted to keep Cassie away from him, but now she seemed eager to toss them together. Or was it just that she wanted to keep Cassie out of the archives, and thought the carriage house presented an appealing alternative?

Nevertheless, he washed his hands and headed up to the attic, where Cassie was just locking up the archives for her lunch break. “Oh, hey,” she said, and smiled at him.

Manny’s spirits instantly lifted. Down, boy, he thought, but the problem was that she was just so damn appealing, all wrapped up in those chunky wool layers he wanted to peel off her.

“I wondered if you’d like to see the carriage house,” he said. “I can’t claim there’s much in the way of written records, but you might find it interesting.”

“Is that the big building next door? How many carriages did your family have?”

“I’m going to assume too many,” Manny said dryly. “It was the Gilded Age, and they weren’t really going for discreet. It stabled all the horses for the manor house and the vineyard, too, and it had bedrooms for the grooms, although they probably got less space than the horses.”

“I thought it was a really fancy warehouse.”

“Well, essentially that’s all it is now. But we’re refurbishing it into a boutique hotel.”

“Oh, cool! Sure, I’d love to have a look sometime.”

“It was Mom’s idea,” Manny said, giving credit where it was due.

A complicated expression passed across Cassie’s face. “That was nice of her,” she said, and Manny winced.

“Is she giving you a hard time?” he asked. “Please tell me if she’s interfering in your work.”

“I wrote an email draft,” Cassie said, half-turning towards her laptop, and then she swiveled back to him. “Okay, yes. She spent most of yesterday afternoon up here, and it really impacted my work flow. I didn’t directly ask her to leave because I wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate. I’m not a hundred percent certain on the chain of command and I don’t know what the business situation is.”

Manny nodded. “Okay. Dad left the archives to me, and I’m paying for you to deal with them, out of my own pocket. It’s not a Tantalus business expense, and you’re not responsible to my mother.”

Cassie exhaled. “Okay.”

“On the other hand, I can understand why you wouldn’t like to outright tell her to leave, especially when this is her home. I’m happy to run interference, and to tell her to leave you alone during your work hours. Hopefully, that will be enough. But if necessary, I’ll escalate.”

“Thank you,” Cassie said. “Man. I bet your employees loved you.”

Manny’s face heated. In fact, they had. His performance reviews had always been good, and he’d enjoyed managing people. At least, when he was managing people in his area of expertise. The guys at the winery weren’t that interested in being told what to do.

Was that why he was so focused on the carriage house refurbishment, he wondered uncomfortably. Was he so eager to get back to hospitality management that he was pushing his family business in a direction it didn’t need to go?

He refocused on the problem at hand. “How about this. You still want to go for that run?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Then let’s say your work day finishes now. We can grab lunch, I’ll talk to Mom while you get ready, and then we can run after.”

“Avoiding potential backlash and giving everyone a chance to chill out,” Cassie said admiringly. “Very smooth.”

So over soup and sandwiches, Manny mentioned that the weather was nice if Cassie wanted to go for a run, and she agreed that yes, it would be lovely to take advantage of the afternoon sunshine. Aerope’s enthusiastic encouragement was another tick in the “anything to keep her away from the archives” column.

And when Cassie left to change into her workout gear, Manny turned to his mother and firmed his resolve. “Please don’t go up to the attic while Cassie’s working,” he said.

Aerope looked as if she was trying to decide between denial or outrage, and settled for mildly peeved. “Well, really, I was just being friendly.”

“Mom. I’m serious. I hired her for a job, and I need her to be able to concentrate on it.”

“It’s a job we don’t need her to do!”

“We’re not having this conversation again,” Manny said. His voice was calm, but his heart was pounding. “I know you disagree with how I’m choosing to handle the archives, but it was my decision, and I’ve made it. It all ties into the changes you’ve already approved. People love a story, and telling the story of Tantalus can only improve our chances to hit our niche.”

“There’s no big rush. Why don’t you take a few months and think about—”

“Are you going to continue to harass my employee?” Manny cut in. “Who has done nothing wrong and doesn’t deserve it?”

Aerope opened her mouth. Then she closed it again, her jaw tightening. “I’ll stay away from the attic,” she said.

Manny stifled a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“And you should do the same,” Aerope added. “Just because she had the sense to tell Isaac Corey to get lost doesn’t mean she’s good enough.” She stalked away from the dining table before Manny could ask what she meant by that.

On second thought, he was pretty sure he knew. He headed upstairs to find his own running clothes, shaking his head.

Cassie was waiting for him outside the guest house, doing some stretches. Manny’s mouth dried out as he watched her lunge. Cassie in jeans was fun to look at, but Cassie in tight leggings…

“I spoke to my mother,” he said. He sounded businesslike. Professional. Damn, Cassie’s ass was amazing. “She’s undertaken to stay away from the attic while you work. Let me know if there are any more problems.”

“Thank you,” Cassie said, on a relieved exhale, and Manny knew he shouldn’t feel like a hero just for doing his job, but when she smiled at him like that it was hard not to feel good. He started stretching his own hamstrings.

“What kind of run are you looking for?” he asked.

“I like something around a 5k. A bit of slope is okay, but no mountain climbing. And I’m pretty slow.”

“I’m happy to go at your pace,” Manny said. “Or if you’re faster than me, I promise I won’t mind if you take off ahead.”

Cassie laughed. “I won’t be faster. I drive my sister crazy. She’s a fitness influencer, and she’s always like, you could go faster than that, you can work on your speed, you should do interval training!” She shrugged. “But I don’t want to. I just like to run.”

They set off, jogging slowly down the driveway as their muscles warmed and loosened. Manny turned left at the gate, and they went down the road for a little bit before he turned left again, into the Tantalus vineyards. He was choosing a route he’d run many times before, over ground that was hard, but not snowy. He didn’t want to be the guy responsible for making Cassie run through a snowbank and break her ankle. True to his word, he let her set the pace. She did go slower than he’d normally prefer, but he was perfectly content to keep step beside her, watching the effort pinken her cheeks and the focus sharpen her gaze.

“You don’t wear your glasses for running?”

“Not since the second time I broke them,” she said. Her breath was elevated, but even. “I mostly need them for close up work, anyway.” She gestured at the vines. “Those are a bit fuzzy, but it’s not a problem.”

They kept going, the pallid sun illuminating their path. “Okay with that hill?” Manny asked.

Cassie looked at the slope. “Sure,” she said gamely, and they both put their heads down and dug in for the climb. Cassie’s breath was coming faster, and Manny was panting a bit himself when they hit the crest and Cassie slowed to a fast walk.

“Whoa,” she said. “I can see your house from here.”

Manny grinned at her. Lake Lydia stretched below them, placid and smooth, with fields and orchards and home estates edging onto it. He pointed. “If you look behind the big house, you can see the path down to the lake. And there’s our dock.”

“You have your own private dock,” Cassie said. “Of course you do.” She shaded her eyes. “Oh, actually, I think I’ve seen the dock in photos. There was a loose one with a lot of kids in the 70s.”

“My grandfather used to bring out disadvantaged kids from the city in the summer. I think it was some kind of back door philanthropy thing. Dad and Theo used to talk about it.”

“Did they do the same thing?”

Manny shook his head. “Though Augie and I used to bring friends out, when we got old enough. We had some good times at that lake.” He’d proposed to Helen on that dock, that bright summer after they’d both graduated from college.

He’d known Helen for a while. Her sister Ness had been going out with Augie on and off since their freshman year. And Helen was beautiful, of course, easily the most beautiful woman at Eleusis. Just knowing her had given Manny a social boost, though he’d quickly stopped introducing his frat brothers to her when it became clear she was too shy to enjoy meeting boisterous strangers. He and Helen were the quiet ones, happy to cover for each other or slip away for private conversation when the family struggles got too loud.

Ness and Augie, against the advice of nearly everyone who knew them, had gotten married three years after college. He and Helen had spent more time together during the build up to that spring wedding. She’d seemed a little sad and distant, and he’d done his best to cheer her up and make her feel welcome.

He’d discovered that she had shy, but decided opinions on music and art, she had a sense of humor that only came out when she trusted people, she was kind and sweet, and very easy to fall in love with. Hanging out had led to making out had led to a slow-blooming romance. For all that, he could sense a reserve that went miles deep, and felt that there were parts of herself that Helen had always kept back. He’d never imagined that she’d actually agree when he asked her to marry him.

But, after a pause he later told himself he’d imagined, she’d said yes. He’d never been happier.

“Do you need a minute?” Cassie asked, and he realized he’d stopped moving altogether.

“No, sorry. I was just thinking about someone I used to know.” He started jogging again, leading them along the crest of the hill, and down the gentle slope that would let them loop back around the first vineyard and back out to the road—if he was remembering correctly, that would be just a shade under 5k.

By silent, mutual consent, they slowed down again as they went back up the main house driveway.

“You haven’t asked me about my date,” Cassie said suddenly. “Nor did your mom. Does that mean you already know how it went?”

“It could mean I thought it was none of my business,” Manny suggested hopefully, but he caught her look and sighed. “No, you’re right. If it’s any consolation, Steph only texted me to make sure you got home all right.”

Cassie looked skeptical. “And did you?”

“I can see the guest house from my window,” Manny said, and pointed it out as they walked past the manor. He didn’t need to walk her back to the guest house, she was perfectly capable of that, but it would be rude to just cut off the conversation. “I saw your car drive in.” No need to mention the wave of unexpected relief that had rolled over him at the sight.

“Mm,” Cassie said. “I realize that in small towns, people talk, but I don’t necessarily want to know what they’re saying about me.”

“Okay,” Manny said.

After a moment, Cassie looked at him. “Maybe I want to know a little bit more about what they’re saying about me.”

“Nothing bad,” Manny said promptly. “Steph said she only saw the tail end, but it looked like he didn’t want to let you leave, and that she was glad you’d told him where to shove it.”

“I wasn’t quite that rude.” Cassie’s mouth quirked. “I mean, I kind of wish I had told him to fuck off, because he was seriously out of line. He actually grabbed my jacket to stop me leaving.”

Manny stopped still. “He grabbed you?”

Cassie met his eyes. “Just my jacket. But I wasn’t very happy about it.”

Manny had never been the violent type, but he had a sudden desire to pummel Isaac Corey.

“I got the feeling he’d been going through a rough patch,” Cassie said, and led them up the porch to her door. Manny followed without thinking about it, hesitating only at the threshold when she paused to take off her shoes.

“I’ll get you some water,” Cassie said.

“Sure, thanks,” Manny said, and waited in the doorway. This wasn’t crowding her. He wasn’t in her space. Just…at the threshold of it. “Um, you know that no matter how rough a patch he’s going through, that wasn’t okay, right?”

“I do know that, yes,” Cassie said, sounding faintly exasperated as she walked into the kitchen. “I’m not letting him off the hook. People are responsible for their choices, even when they’re heartbroken.”

Manny nodded. “Someone broke my heart, once. And in the immediate aftermath I reacted badly. But my reaction was my fault, not hers.” He didn’t wake up with the nightmares any more, but he could remember it, he and Augie and the boys, crammed into Jax’s truck and driving all over Ithaca, following Odysseus Turner’s directions. He’d been hollowed out, nothing inside him but that gaping wound where joy had been. He’d been desperate just to talk to Helen, to make sure that she meant it, that she was really leaving him for real.

It wasn’t until later that he’d realized what a bunch of drunken, angry idiots trying to hunt down the woman he loved could have turned into. It wasn’t until later that he was sane enough to break out in a cold sweat, and thank whatever gods there were that they’d never caught Helen and Paris that night.

Cassie handed him a glass of water, and he drank half of it in a single gulp, reviving at the cold, clear taste.

“I’d hate to think that gossip might turn the community against me,” she said tentatively, and he realized she was trying to find out if people would be on Isaac’s side.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said immediately. “Isaac had a lot of goodwill in this town when his wife left, but he’s burned through most of it. People have started saying that if he was this sulky and selfish in the marriage, no wonder Janine looked elsewhere.”

“Do you think he was?”

Manny shrugged. “I wasn’t around when it all went down.”

“I keep forgetting you only came back recently. You seem as if you belong here.”

Manny thought about Theo’s resistance to change, his mother’s inexplicable opposition to organizing the archives, the effort it took to lay any claim on this place. “You might be the only one who thinks that,” he said quietly. “Thanks for the water.”

“Thanks for the company,” Cassie said. “Let’s do it again. But right now I have to get out of this sports bra.”

Manny felt the blood rush to his cheeks at the same time the vision flooded his brain. He could so clearly picture Cassie’s groan of relief as she released the catch, the abundant spill of flesh as her breasts were freed, how he could take the weight with his hands instead, and soothe the tender skin with his lips. He met her eyes, and knew that she had some idea of what he was thinking. She might have even reciprocated. Her own cheeks were flushed, and the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip.

They both stepped back at the same time.

“Okay, so, see you tomorrow,” he said.

“Yep!” Cassie said. “I’ll work extra hard to make up the hours.”

“Awesome. Great. See you then. Tomorrow, I mean.” He jumped off the porch without bothering with the stairs. “Yep. Bye!”

“Bye!” Cassie said, and if laughter was bubbling up in her voice, Manny couldn’t blame her. He was acting exactly like an idiot with a crush on a pretty girl.

Because that was what he was. And he wasn’t sure what to do about it.