2. - – Cassidy
CHAPTER TWO
-
CASSIDY
Present Day
I flutter around my loft full of nervous, excited energy.
Getting ready for my first date in two years has me feeling all of the emotions.
Tyson seems so great, though. He’s incredibly handsome, has a great job, loves his dog more than people, and comes with a solid sense of humor.
I’m undecided on four different outfits when I’m interrupted by my phone ringing.
I skip over to my nightstand, pet my cat Beelzebub, and tap the answer button from the unknown caller. “Hello, Joe’s crematorium! You stab ‘em, we slab ‘em!”
I hear a deep chuckle on the other line, “Well, hello to you, too, Sunshine. How’s your day?”
Ben always calls from an unknown number, says it’s to keep me safe, but I’ve never really understood that. “Hang on, let me get my headset. I’m trying to get ready.”
“Fine, I guess. Take your time, not like I’m overly important,” I hear the sarcasm in his tone.
My Bluetooth connects with a chime in my ear, “There, see? Not too long. What’s up?”
I hear him sigh, “Just wanted to see how your day was. We barely talked today.”
“Sorry, work was really hectic. Good, but I barely had time to pee and top up my coffee, ya know?” I toss through the different clothes I have set out for my date with Tyson, and suddenly hate everything I own.
“You seem distracted? Is it a bad time?” Ben pulls me from my hatred of clothing. “I can call you back later.”
“No, it’s fine! I’m just getting ready to meet someone and struggling to dress myself.”
He laughs again, “Don’t people usually do that one leg at a time?”
“Ah, he’s funny. I put both legs in at once. I’m edgy like that,” I always feel like I can be myself talking to Ben. We met online a few years ago and immediately clicked. He’s become one of my closest friends whom I’ve never actually met in person. The future is wild.
“Where are you going?” I can tell there’s tension in his voice.
“Remember? I said I was meeting a guy for drinks at Gabe’s pub tonight.
We’re in the same friend group, sort of.
Good looking guy, all that jazz?” I finally settle on a black, low-cut top with my best push-up bra and my acid wash wide-leg jeans that lift my bum up perfectly.
It’s casual, but I’ll look good, hopefully.
Ben is quiet in the call until he quietly says, “Be careful.”
“I’ll be fine. Public place, we’re both taking our own vehicles. No worries. Also, I know him a bit already. Relax, it’s just a date, Dad.” I try to joke it off, but I can hear the irritation in his voice.
“He’s not even being a true gentleman and picking you up? Wow, you chose a winner this time, Cas.”
I roll my eyes, wishing he could see my annoyance. I open my mouth to object and explain that it was my idea to meet there, but he interjects.
“I should go. Let me know when you’re home safe, okay? I’ll be around all night,” his overbearing dad voice lingers, and I agree, not interested in an argument. If I forget to let him know, then I do.
We hang up, and I feel off suddenly. Ben and I can talk for hours about world issues, hobbies, animals, literally anything. He listened to me talk about coloring my hair for two hours one day. But he got upset over a date he’s known about since Tyson asked me out.
I shake it off and head to my dresser to make sure my makeup is good to go. Checking the time, I have to leave in half an hour, which causes happy butterflies to form in my belly. I really like Tyson. I’m just hoping he likes me, too.
Beelzebub looks at me with judgment, always knowing when I’m leaving him for a bit.
I pat his single brain-celled head and give him a kiss, “Don’t worry, Beeze.
I’ll make sure that I put food in your dish before I go.
I know you well enough to know that it’s the end of the world for you if you can see the bottom of your dish. Love you, Beeze.”
He snorts and curls back into my pillow. Typical black cat energy. Only loves me when he wants something.
I lock the door to my apartment and head to my car.
I’m glad I opted to put a jacket on, the temperature dropped so much I’d have frozen solid before I made it to the pub.
It’s a ten-minute drive that I enjoy while listening to my screamy music and ignoring the yucky feeling in my gut after talking to Ben this evening.
As I pull up to the pub, I see Tyson’s company, Castle Masonry, truck parked a few spots away from the front door and notice an empty spot right behind him.
Great, I forgot I’d have to parallel park here.
He’s probably watching, play it cool. After two attempts, I manage to squeeze my car into the parking spot, and I take a quick walk around to make sure there’s room on all the necessary sides.
Whoops.. Too much room on the curbside, but no one will notice, I’m sure.
The door to Gabe’s chimes as I walk into the dimly lit pub.
The familiar scent of classic pub food and various spilled beer fills my senses.
Tyson is sitting at the bar and is one of the only people in the room not staring at a cell phone.
I walk over to him and place my hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
“Hi! Cassidy, I’m glad you made it!” Tyson stands up and hugs me. He smells like wood smoke and suede, making my brain forget how to human.
I stumble my words for a second, “Um, yeah, hey Tyson! Sorry, I’m nervous. But I’m glad you asked me to meet up.” I can feel the blush creeping up my chest and hope that he doesn’t notice.
He smiles, the happiness fully reaching his bright blue eyes. “You’re good. I’m nervous, too. We have a table already. Want to go sit down?” I feel his strong hand gently touch my lower back to guide me to the table as I nod and agree.
“Wait, I’ll grab a drink before we sit if that’s okay? It’s pretty busy tonight,” I ask the bartender for a bottle of MGD, pay, and follow Tyson to the back of the pub.
He sits facing the door, something my dad told me was always the sign of a good man. I smile to myself and embrace the classic Irish music playing quietly on speakers through the pub.
“So, Cassidy, tell me more about you?” Tyson places his hands on the table, and I take in the size of them. Good gracious, don’t fuck with a stone mason, I guess?
“You can call me Cass if you like,” I smile and fidget under the table.
“Well, I’m 29 years old. I work as a bilingual customer service representative for Wild Heart Collective, an animal rehabilitation organization.
Um… I don’t get out much, in case that wasn’t obvious.
Love animals, advocate for the fair treatment of them.
Live a relatively boring life. I think that sums it up.
Your turn, it has to be more exciting than me.
” I giggle and look through my lashes at him.
He’s hanging on every word and genuinely seems interested.
“That’s incredible, your work. Chev mentioned you did animal advocacy, but she didn’t explain everything. So are you a vegan?” he evades telling me about himself, and I cock my head to the side.
“I’m not, which surprises the hell out of people more often than not.
But I won’t purchase meat or any animal products from sources I’m not familiar with.
I need to be able to visit a farm, see that animals are well treated until they inevitably become or create food for us.
I don’t know if that makes sense,” I suddenly feel incredibly self-conscious and very grateful for the waitress who’s come to take our orders.
I order a veggie flatbread with a balsamic drizzle, and Tyson orders the same with a side of spinach dip.
“Not a vegan but ordered a fully vegetarian meal?” he smiles at me.
I shrug, “I have no idea where this place gets their food from, I don’t know if their source uses ethical practices, so I’ll stick to veggies. You didn’t answer my question.” There’s an underlying bitch tone in my voice that I don’t mean to have.
He sips his beer, “Sorry, I was fascinated by the walking contradiction that is Cassidy Brooks. I’m sure you already know that I’m a stone mason, working on stuff to own my own company one day.
I’m 32, have a well-trained Belgian Malinois named Javelin.
She goes by Java for short. I suck at talking about myself, which is why I avoided your question. ”
I spin my beer bottle and look him over. This man oozes intelligence without being condescending. He’s confident without any sort of cockiness. His smile could be the last thing I ever see, and I’d die a happy woman. I bite my lip as I take him in, trying to think of what to say next.
“Does Java make a mess when you’re not home?” I cringe at myself for such a stupid question.
“No, she’s crate trained and gets to run and work all day long. By the time we’re done for the day, she’s pretty much exhausted. Working dogs are tricky, but I’ve made sure that I always have a healthy way to get her energy out.”
I bob to the music, “Good answer.”
He grins, “Truthful answer. I knew going into owning a Mal that she’d need a lot from me.”
So he gives a shit about animals, too. At least enough to know what the dog breed he chose needs.
The waitress returns with our food, letting us know we can ask her if we need anything else.
Tyson reaches across the table to grab napkins and spills both of our beers all over the table.
The cold liquid dumps in my lap. I stand and let out a solid belly laugh.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry! I went full idiot there!” he tries to soak up the beer from the table and fails miserably. Turns out, pub napkins crumble under pressure.
I keep laughing but manage to speak, “Hey now, I’m usually half an idiot. Together, we make a whole person. Or a full idiot, depending on how you see the glass.”
It’s Tyson’s turn to belly laugh. His embarrassment turns into a full-blown, booming chuckle that fills the pub and echoes off the stone walls.
He tosses the soaking wet napkin onto the table, barely missing the spinach dip he ordered.
We both keep laughing like morons as our waitress returns with a few towels to help us out.
“I’m so sorry! It was a total accident,” Tyson says through deep breaths for composure.
She smiles sweetly, “You’d be amazed at how often this happens! It’s no big deal. I’ll move you over to this booth back here and get the spot cleaned up!”
We grab our food and follow her to a darkened booth in the back corner. I sit facing away from the door, expecting Tyson to sit across from me, but he settles in beside me and flashes a boyish grin my way.
“Can’t even lie, that made my whole week.” His eyes shine at me and make me blush again.
“It’s a top-three moment, for me.” I try to play it cool, but I’m already picturing myself in a pretty white dress, meeting this man in a church.
“Top three? Hey now, I think that’s higher than I’ve ever made it on someone’s list of best shit of the week.” He sets his arm gently over my shoulder as the waitress brings us new drinks.
“Thank you so much!” I chime to her. I didn’t even catch her name, she said it so quickly and doesn’t have a tag. “I feel bad,” I whisper to Tyson, “I used to waitress and hated cleaning up messes like that.”
I feel his thick hand rub my arm, “It’s okay, I’ll tip her well. She’s been great.”
We talk for hours, getting to know each other. Tables clear out, new parties move in until we’re the last ones in the pub, and the bartender declares last call.
“Last call? Holy shit, we talked all night!” I say.
Tyson pulls me closer to him, “I’m glad we did. I really like you, Cass.”
I blush yet again and agree. Tyson insists on paying our bill tonight, so I concede, no one ever wants to take care of me. This is a nice change.
He walks me to my car, plants a kiss on my cheek, and we make plans to get together through the coming week.
This is by far the best date I’ve ever been on.
When I get home, I’m exhausted but still so pumped up that I don’t feel like I can sleep.
I kick off my boots and check my phone, seeing over a dozen missed calls from Ben and over twenty text messages.
I scroll the new messages, and they startle me.
This doesn’t seem like the person I thought I’d gotten to know over the past few years. The last message is the most ominous.
1:43 am
Hope you can find peace in who you are and what you do with a man who will never know you. Lose my number. We’re done.