Chapter 9
Cass
As Grayson cruised through the parking lot of the Broken Hen the next morning, Cass scanned for her sister’s car. The sporty two-seater should have been easy to find in the sea of SUVs and sedans, but so far, no such luck.
“I think we beat them here,” she told Grayson while he pulled into a parking space.
“We’re about five minutes early.” He shut the car down, got out, and came around to meet her.
As they crossed the parking lot and headed toward the restaurant, Cass said, “She considers that late.”
“Could be that Russ drove.”
She gave a soft snort and adjusted her glasses. “Doubt it. She likes to be the one behind the wheel.”
They got to the door, and Grayson pulled it open, letting her go first. They hit the host station and the young man behind it. After exchanging greetings, Cass gave her sister’s name.
“This way, please,” the man said.
They followed him across the busy floor to the back door that led to a small outdoor patio surrounded by lush potted greenery and a couple of strategically positioned trees.
Sunlight drifted through the foliage and chased dancing shadows over the handful of customers enjoying their meals as the low murmur of conversation filled the patio.
She spotted Sofia and Russ drinking coffee at a table to the left.
Sofia caught sight of her and lifted a hand in greeting while Russ pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head.
Cass returned Sofia’s wave as a breeze drifted through, ruffling the leaves of a nearby tree.
For a disconcerting moment, Sofia’s welcoming smile turned into a distorted, almost skull-like grimace.
Horror slid over Cass, bringing her to an abrupt stop, but then Grayson brushed a hand down her spine, and the shadows disappeared, leaving behind a frowning Sofia.
Grayson leaned in and asked quietly, “What’s wrong?”
Everything. She swallowed her apprehension and did her best to keep her tone casual. “Nothing.” When he continued to study her, she reached out and took his hand. “Come on.” She tugged him forward, and they continued to the table.
When they got close, the other couple stood. Sofia gave her a brief hug and an air kiss, and Russ held out his hand to Grayson. “Since we haven’t been formally introduced, I’m Russell Seagraves, but you can call me Russ.”
Cass did her best not to roll her eyes.
Grayson took his hand and shook it. “Grayson Beck.”
“Gray,” Russ repeated, trying to sound chummy.
“It’s Grayson.”
Irritation flashed in Russ’s eyes, and his chummy smile lost a bit of its charm. “Right. Sorry, Grayson.” He retook his seat next to Sofia.
Grayson pulled out the chair across from Sofia for Cass and helped her settle in before taking his across from Russ.
The weight in Cass’s gut deepened because up close, there was no missing the signs of strain on Sofia’s face under the artfully applied makeup.
As the server handed out menus and did a round of coffee and water pours, Cass leaned into her.
“You okay?” she murmured.
“I’m fine,” Sofia said, brushing off her concerns with a brittle smile.
Far from reassured but with no way to push it, Cass sat back and perused the menu even as she plotted to get her sister alone. For a few minutes, they compared orders and made minor changes then shared their final decisions with the server when he returned.
Cass was stirring cream into her coffee when Russ said, “So, Cassandra, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Funny, I haven’t heard a thing about you. Without moving her head, she looked over the rim of her glasses as she tapped the spoon and then set it aside on the saucer. “Is that so?”
“Yes, Sofia says you own a bar down in Phoenix.” His car-salesman smile held a hint of a sneer. “That must be quite the experience.”
“I’m part owner,” she corrected as she picked up her coffee and cradled it in both hands. “And yes, it can be.” She met his gaze. “And what is it that you do?”
He sat back and stretched a proprietary arm over the back of Sofia’s chair, the image of the young business professional. “I’m an acquisition manager at Pythia.”
She looked at her sister, who had been fiddling with her napkin. “Is that how you two met?” When Sofia didn’t look up or respond, she nudged, “Sofia?”
Her sister lifted her head and blinked. “Sorry?”
Cass’s earlier worry returned with a vengeance, but she did her best to keep up the getting-to-know-you gambit. “I asked if that’s how you two met. At Pythia?”
The distracted haze drifted away, replaced by a bright light. “No, we actually met in the wild.” She leaned into Russ’s side, her expression softening. “I was out with some girlfriends for Double-M and crashed into Russ. Literally.”
“Sounds like that’s a story,” Grayson chimed in.
Russ chuckled. “I was grabbing a drink at the bar, turned to go back to my table, when I got knocked back by a beautiful blonde. The rest, as they say, is history.”
“He’s being romantic.” Color rode under Sofia’s cheeks. “I was a klutz, which happens when you mix new heels and a couple of martinis on an empty stomach.” She looked at Cass, and for a moment, it was as if all their years of painful interactions had never happened. “You know how it goes.”
“You always were a lightweight,” Cass teased. “Okay, so, got to ask. What is Double-M?”
Sofia gave a cute giggle. “Martini Monday. It happens every few weeks when a group of us from the office get together after a particularly rough Monday and vent.” Sofia gave Russ a small smile. “Lucky for me, that Monday ended on a high note.”
He leaned in and touched his lips to hers then pulled back. “Definitely a high note.” He looked at Cass then Grayson. “So, what about you two? How’d you meet?”
The question caught Grayson mid sip. Over the rim of his coffee cup, his gaze met Cass’s, and a whisper of warning drifted through her mind. “Through a mutual friend when Grayson was in town for a job,” she said, purposely vague.
Russ’s gaze sharpened. “Job? What is it you do?”
Grayson set his cup down and followed her lead. “I’m a Key for the Western Guild office.”
Because she was watching him so closely, Cass noticed Russ’s momentary stillness. When he opened his mouth, the charming-fiancé role was a thing of the past. “A Key and a bartender, huh? Must be some sort of joke in there.”
While Cass gritted her teeth so as not to rip into the jackass, Grayson appeared unruffled. He cocked his head. “How so?” he asked in a decidedly cooler tone.
Russ’s friendly guise gained a flustered edge that was tucked away before it could fully form.
Before he could respond, Sofia stepped into the awkward pause.
“So this is a long-distance thing, then?” she asked sharply, motioning between the two of them.
“I mean, knowing how dedicated Cass is to her bar and friends, I can’t imagine you two get too much time together—not if you’re here with the Guild and she’s there. ”
Cass tamped down her irritation at her sister’s unspoken criticism, a practiced move that had been repeated often during their past interactions.
“Oh, we make it work,” Grayson said as he aimed a wicked grin Cass’s way. “Don’t we, sweetheart?”
Her body did not care that he was playing to the other couple.
It simply curled into the flirty implication and wallowed.
Before she could respond, their order arrived, and talk faded as they settled into their food.
When the conversation picked back up, it didn’t stray into anything heavy, and Cass was relieved to see Sofia lose some of her early signs of distress.
Even her typical barbs disappeared, for which Cass was grateful.
Unfortunately, there was Russ’s overt charm to contend with, especially as he seemed to be making inroads with Grayson, whose slight coolness from earlier seemed to be thawing.
Either that, or Grayson deserves a freakin’ Emmy.
It took a lot of restraint to ignore the little digs Russ threw in every now and again, but the fact that they only seemed to get to her, not Grayson, kept her in check.
A couple of times, she had to remind herself that she loved Sofia and going scorched earth on the overbearing jackass would not end well.
Throughout the back-and-forth, she learned that Russ’s position, which involved reeling in new clients for Pythia, had come about due to an unexpected opening.
His role at the family firm and his obvious attitude of self-importance went a long way in explaining why he got along so well with her parents.
Guess if I want my parents’ acceptance, I just needed to add to Pythia’s bottom line. The caustic thought stung, but Cass couldn’t help it. The guy rubbed her the wrong way.
A flare of irritation ignited when Grayson chuckled at another one of Russ’s lame-ass quips.
She drained the last bit of her coffee, hoping the cup would hide her lip-curling disgust. When she set it down, her gaze went to Sofia, who was cutting into her breakfast. Cass’s spine locked and her stomach rolled in queasy horror as Sofia scooped up a rotten mess of blueberries and strawberries from the curdled whip cream topping.
Thin filaments that looked like spiderwebs stretched from the nauseating forkful to the pancakes before snapping free.
More of the webbing crawled across the table and crept over the edge of Grayson’s plate.
She jerked to her feet, her chair scraping across the cement patio.
The table conversation stopped abruptly, and everyone stared at her.
“Cass, you okay?”
Grayson’s question sounded like it came from far away, but she was too busy keeping her stomach from revolting to answer. Something warm and firm curled around her wrist, and suddenly someone was between her and the nightmarish meal on the table.
“Cass?”