Cruel & Beautiful Page 21

  I make a reservation anyway at McCormick & Schmick's. It covers the gamut from steaks to seafood, so I text Andy the place and a time of six-thirty. I don’t end up going to Ted’s office that day. Instead, I go there bright and early the next day where Jeff is waiting for me.

  “Traitor,” he spits.

  I stop in my tracks. “What did I do?”

  “I saw the pictures of you two. You went out with him after all my warnings.”

  I’ve heard Ted’s side of things. It’s time I hear Jeff’s. “Is your hatred for him over a woman?”

  He pauses. “He told you?”

  “Not much. He just said it always comes down to a woman and she was more interested in him.”

  He huffs, “Yes, there was a woman. But that’s not the whole story.”

  “It never is.” I let out a heavy sigh. “Look, I like you, Jeff. But your warnings were for naught. Ted was a perfect gentleman the entire time we were out. He didn’t do or try anything. You have nothing to worry about. We’re just friends.”

  “He’s never just friends,” and he wiggles his fingers, “with a woman,” he mutters before heading to his desk.

  I don’t want to fight, so I don’t argue. I sit and get to work. Ted drops by.

  “Cate, have you thought about France?”

  I glance around worried about the thin walls.

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  He takes it well. “Fair enough. I’ll leave you to it.”

  The calm way he walks away is unnerving, but I let it go.

  By Wednesday, a case of the anxieties hits. I work out of my office and slip out early, only taking half a lunch break. I head home to freshen up and change into a snug scoop neck red sweater, slim black pants, and date heels, or what Jenna refers to as fuck-me heels. I take a cab the few blocks to the restaurant because there is no way I could have walked and survived. The weather is still gloomy and ice patches still litter the sidewalks. The shoes I wear aren’t exactly made for walking.

  A valet opens my cab door and helps me out. That’s what you get when dinner will run in the low hundreds if not more. Andy has already arrived and the hostess escorts me to our table. He’s up and helping me out of my coat. His hands are warm and they burn through the fabric of my sweater with his accidental touches. I shiver and miss his touch when it’s gone.

  “Beautiful as always,” he says with my back to him.

  I turn to face him because I hope our connection is still there. Only he’s turned to hang my coat on the hook outside our booth. I slide in and wait for him to sit.

  By the time he does, the waiter is there rattling off the daily specials before excusing himself to give us time to make our selections.

  Andy hides behind his menu. I pick mine up and decide what to order.

  “What are you having?” he asks, still masked by the menu.

  “I think I’m going to go with the Chef’s Choice of salmon.” It’s stuffed and served over vegetables and sounds absolutely yummy. “You?”

  However, I already know what he’ll decide. He’s going for the steak, which is why I chose this restaurant. They specialize in fish and steak.

  “I think I’ll have the bone-in ribeye.”

  I smile to myself because I probably could have ordered for him. At least that much of him hasn’t changed.

  “You’re smiling.”

  “It’s nothing. I just knew what you’d order.”

  His mouth curls slightly and the knot in my stomach eases. “Am I that predictable?”

  “Actually, no.” I would have never predicted that he’d take me on the balcony of a masquerade ball.

  The waiter arrives and we order. When he leaves, the uncomfortable silence presses between us. Figuring the mood can’t get worse, I decide to get one question answered.

  “I came by the hospital the other day.” I pause. “The day after the ball,” I clarify.

  His piercing blue eyes finally focus on me and I get the feeling he’s been avoiding the contact.

  “You did? You didn’t stop and say hi?”

  His voice is guarded and the distance that’s grown between us becomes palpable.

  “Actually, you were pretty busy. Some might say you were even a bit tongue tied.”

  His eyes narrow. “You saw me.”

  I nod and finally just blurt it out. “You had some blonde wrapped all around you. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  His eyes widened. “The noise,” he says more to himself. “That was you. I heard someone walking away. I assumed someone on staff caught us.”

  “Guilty,” I say a little wanly raising a hand like a child in preschool. “Imagine my surprise especially after you… we um… on the balcony.”

  “Cate.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I should have known after you walked away and said nothing that night, you were just acting in the spirit of the party and it didn’t mean anything to you.”

  “That’s not it,” he growls. I watch his jaw set. He’s a little fierce when he’s determined about something. “I was angry that night, seeing you there. Dancing with guys, their hands all over you.” That is an exaggeration but I keep quiet. “When I hoped you felt what’s between us, you ran out to the balcony. When I followed you out there, I had no idea what I planned to do or say. Then you let me touch you—”

  “Your wine,” a red faced waiter says, holding a bottle of merlot.

  Andy glances up as the flushed waiter pours him some and lets him taste before he leaves the bottle with us.

  Andy continues as if the interruption hasn’t happened. “I took what we both wanted. What you eagerly let me have and I won’t apologize for it.”

  I can’t blame him. “I don’t expect you to.”

  “But what you saw at the hospital wasn’t what you thought. Nurses have hit on me since day one, but that’s probably because I’m new and single. The one you saw is a little more aggressive than most. She won’t take no for an answer.”

  “Sexual harassment,” I say, but it’s more of a joke.

  “Exactly. I had to report her because this isn’t the first time she wouldn’t back off.”

  I sit back because you don’t often hear men taking a stand on a willing woman throwing themselves at them.

  “Is she pretty?”

  He pauses mid-sip. “Does it matter? I’m not interested. Is that the reason you went out with Ted Caine?”

  I could have lied. Instead I opt for the truth. “It wasn’t to spite you. He asked and I assumed you’d moved on.”

  He’s quick with a retort. “And you know what they say. To assume is to make an ass out of you and me.”

  “Fine,” I say, defeated. “I could have talked to you about it.” I hate how our conversation is taking a turn for the worse. “But that doesn’t explain why you went with Désirée to the White House Press Dinner.”

  “And that’s what you think?”

  “That’s what she said when she saw me out with Ted and took the picture to share with the world, but especially you.”

  “Again, you assume the worst. When in actuality, she was there, but not with me. I went with my college buddy. You remember the two guys that were with me that night I took you home? I know them from undergrad. When I moved in the area, I called them up knowing they lived here. Well, one of them is a Congressman. His date bailed on him at the last minute and he talked me into going with him.”

  Insert foot. I have gotten everything wrong. “How did it go? Or is that scowl for me?” I ask tentatively.

  He sighs. “Both actually. I feel like all this misunderstanding could have easily been explained if you just trusted me.”

  “I do.”

  He shakes his head. “You don’t. And maybe that’s partly my fault for how I left things on the balcony.” He at least looks a bit shamefaced.

  We were silent for a moment. “And the other reason for your scowl?”

  Dinner arrives in grand fashion. The orchestrated way
the waiters show up with the meal and place it before us interrupts his answer. Steam billows from the plates as I smile at the waiter before he leaves.

  Andy doesn’t immediately dig into his food. We are warned it’s piping hot.

  “The other reason for my scowl is my buddy is an equal opportunist when it comes to dating and he doesn’t hide it, especially now. So I spent the night getting congratulations regarding the upholding of the 14th amendment that passed several months ago.” He pauses and gauges my reaction. I smile and don’t show the skip of my heartbeat. He continues. “There were reporters and I spent the whole night dodging flashing cameras. And not because I don’t agree with the ruling, but because I don’t want to have to explain my sexual orientation to my colleagues.”

  I manage a laugh and finally he laughs too. We eat and our conversation lightens. He tells me stories of his friend’s antics. Dinner turns out okay. I pass on desert because I’m stuffed. I have to swat his hand away when the check arrives, but he finally lets me pay. After all, I am the one who invited him on the date.

  “I know you have to work tomorrow. But can I take you somewhere?”

  I don’t expect it. Despite the tension loosening, we haven’t exactly patched things up. We’ve avoided all talk of our relationship during the rest of the meal.

  “Sure. Can you tell me where?”

  When the valet pulls his car up to the curb, he just grins while walking to the driver’s side. He does like his surprises. When he pulls up on Constitution Avenue where the lights are strung up between lamps, it doesn’t dawn on me where he’s taking me until we walk to the ticket booth. A lone figure waits and Andy checks his watch.

  “I have a reservation.”

  “Yes. Drew?”

  Andy nods.

  “Follow me.”

  We walk through the gate and I can’t believe my eyes. They begin to mist, overcome with emotions.

  He stops at a bench and takes my gloved hands. “I know this is hard for you.” He glances up to the sky before meeting my gaze. I wipe at the corners of my eyes. “I want this to work and ignoring the past isn’t working. We have to confront it.”

  “I’m not sure I can.” My voice breaks, but he’s right. We can’t ignore it. “There’s no one here,” I say.

  “Just because we need this, doesn’t mean you have to do it with an audience. I’ve booked this time only for us. You and me.”

  In every other circumstance this would be a swoon worthy moment, a romantic gesture that can be told to future grandchildren. Instead, I try my best to keep the tears at bay. We put on our shoes that wait for us because he’s thought of everything. I realize he preplanned this as he holds out his hand to me.

  “It’s time to take the first step. Will you take it with me?”

  I stare at the rink and all it represents. And I know if I can’t trust him and walk onto the ice, it will never work between us. I gaze into his willing eyes and at his open hand.

  CHRISTMAS BREAK. DREW. IT’S MORE than difficult to keep my mind on studying, but I have to. I’m almost done with finals and I need to pull this off. I’m counting on a 4.0 this semester so my head needs to be in the game. Drew acts like my coach, texting me encouraging messages every few hours. I wish he’d send me naked pictures instead. Not really. I’d never get anything accomplished if he did.

  My last exam is this Friday afternoon and then I’m headed to Indy to stay with him for six days until we fly home. We’re on the same flight, which will be nice. He can only stay in Charleston three days, but I’ll be there for a week. I’ll return to Indy and spend another week with him before I have to go back to Purdue. This will be the most time we’ve ever spent with each other and even though the excitement is killing me, it also has me biting my nails. This could be one of those make it or break it things. All of our weekends together have always been like vacations, but this will be more of the real thing.

  Shoving those thoughts away, I refocus on my accounting. This exam is supposed to be a ball buster so I pour another cup of coffee and hit the books. Jenna is in the library so the apartment is as quiet as a church on Monday. I stay at it until two a.m., when I hear the lock turn.

  “You still up?”

  “Yeah,” I say, stretching and rubbing my eyes. “I’m just about to call it a night.”

  “I had to do the same when my lids started slamming shut. My 5 Hour Energy wore off long ago,” Jenna claims. “I’m beat. Thank god my exam isn’t until ten-thirty.”

  “Yeah. Mine’s not until noon. That’ll give me a couple of review hours. And then Finance on Friday and voila! I can’t wait to be done.”

  “You can’t wait to get into Drew’s bed.”

  “Well, there is that. But I’m so over studying. I want a break.”

  “There is truth in that,” she says.

  “You’re driving home, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. Didn’t want to be that long without a car. I’m staying the entire three weeks, unlike someone I know,” she clears her throat.

  “I wanted to talk to you about that. I’m a little freaked, if you want the truth. This will be the first time we’ve been together like this.”

  “You’ll be fine. Drew is Drew, you know? He’s easy. He’s not a diva man. And you’re not a diva either. You two were made for each other.”

  “God, Jenna, I hope so.”

  “I’ve never seen you like this before, Cate. How long have we known each other? Since kindergarten? Trust me. I know so. But just remember. I don’t care that you have a sister, I’m going to be your maid of honor in your wedding.”

  I pick up a pillow from the couch and toss it at her. “You’re a nut.”

  “No. I’m about to fall asleep on my feet so I’m off to bed. G’night.”

  “Night.”

  It doesn’t surprise me to see Drew waiting on the porch of his apartment as I pull in and park. His ear-to-ear smile only heightens my excitement at being here. He’s wearing my favorite faded jeans and the top to one of his scrubs. He must have only gotten home a little while ago.

  “Hey you,” I call out as I climb out of my car.

  “Hey back. One more semester down, huh?”

  “Thank you, Jesus.”

  “I’ll second that, because you’re here and I can finally get some Cate time.” I’m on the porch by now and he wastes no time in reaching for me. “I have missed the hell out of you, sweet thing.”

  “Sweet thing?”

  “Sweeter than honey and that’s for damn sure. Now shut up and kiss me.”

  You sure can’t hide the southern boy in him. When I wrap my arms around him, he stands up and lifts me off the ground. I love it when he does this, so I giggle, but he inhales it with his mouth. He walks backward through his door and takes me straight into his kitchen. His hands wrap around my thighs and I find myself sitting on the countertop. Then I spy what’s next to me chilling in an ice bucket, and I let out a muffled whoop against his lips that are still nibbling on mine. He reaches behind him and pulls open the refrigerator, our lips still locked, and grabs a bowl of ruby red strawberries.

  “Mmmm,” I mumble.

  “Not done yet.”

  When he sets the can of whipped cream on the counter, I know we’re going to have some serious fun tonight. He unbuttons my sweater and I shrug it off. Next comes my bra. I’m sitting on his counter, naked to the waist, as he pops the champagne cork and pours.

  Then he hands me a glass with a heated gaze and says, “Congratulations on one more down.” We clink our glasses and sip. He takes his and pours a bit down my chest, stopping to lick it up as it makes a trail from my neck to my navel. I shiver as goosebumps poke out all over me. The points of my nipples practically scream to be licked or sucked, but he does neither. Instead, he takes the can of whipped cream and coats them with it. It’s cold and gives me chills. But when he sucks and licks it off, I whimper with need.

  After the whipped cream is gone, he steps back and offers me a strawberry to g
o with my champagne. Then he tilts my head back and feeds me one of the luscious berries, covered in the sweet, white cream. I close my eyes as I chew because it’s that tasty. “They complement each other, you know.” I’m not sure if he’s referring to his mouth, the whipped cream, and my nipples, or the champagne and strawberries.

  My hand trembles as I raise my glass to sip the champagne. “They sure do.”

  His blue eyes sparkle and I can tell he knows he’s a tease. So I decide to run with it.

  “Is this our dinner?” I ask.

  “This?” He sweeps his hand over the strawberries and champagne.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, no. This is just our appetizer. The next course is in there.” And he points to his bedroom. How exciting. I cross my legs. He sees it and uncrosses them and moves in between them. “What’s the matter, Cate? Something bothering you?” His voice is deep and gruff.

  “Um, no. Not at all,” I squeak.

  His knuckles brush the seam of my jeans and I squirm against them. “Is this what you want, Cate?”

  “Yes.” This time, my voice is rough with urgency.

  “But, I thought you were hungry.”

  My fingers latch onto the collar of his scrubs and I jerk him closer to me. “I am. Starving. For you.”

  “Hmm. Well, I’m starving for you, too. What a coincidence. But first, I have a surprise.”

  Surprise? What kind of surprise? I want sex, not a surprise. Louise is dying here, not to mention the state of my panties is getting to the point where they’ll have to be wrung out soon. He slides me off the counter and I practically dry hump him.

  “Uh, Cate, is there something you want from me?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  He only offers me one of his through-the-roof, deep, sexy chuckles, which only adds to my sexual frustration. Louise quivers.

  “Give me your hand.”

  Oh, no. Please to god, don’t tell me he wants a hand job! I’m all for that on some occasions, but right now, I just want a good, old-fashioned fuck!

  “Cate?”

  I place my hand in his and he escorts me to his room, where to my utter surprise, I find it lit in at least a dozen candles. On the nightstand is a vase holding an unbelievable flower arrangement containing roses, lilies, calla lilies, white carnations, orchids, and tulips. There are also two trays on his bed with covered dishes on them.