Fanning the Flames (Romance Firemen Series) (5 page)

“Are you...considering it?”

“I don’t know." Cassie paused. "I'm not sure I have any other options.”

Brendan looked pensive. “Is Nick the guy you’ve been sort of seeing? In all the times we’ve talked, you’ve never mentioned him by name.”

“Does that matter?”

“Well, you told me that you’d talked to him about taking things slowly. Don’t you think that moving into his family’s house might be a bit…contradictory?”

Cassie slammed her coffee cup down. “Are you jealous?”

“What?” Brendan laughed. “It’s just a thought, Cassie.”

“Well, you know,” she said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about my relationship with Nick and I think it’s something I want to pursue. Yes, this might be taking things a little faster than I had planned, but maybe I should be a little less cautious anyway. Sometimes you’ve just got to take a chance in life!”

“So you’re going to move in with someone you’re not sure about to prove that you can take a chance?”

“You know what? Yes! That is exactly what I’m going to do, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop judging me for it.”

Cassie turned her back to him and rinsed her coffee cup in the sink. "It's a temporary situation, and at least I’ll know I gave things with Nick a shot.” She was wondering which of them she was trying to convince.

“It’s your decision," he said. "Just think about it, that’s all I’m asking. It might be better to stay with your folks for a bit than to risk getting yourself into a tricky situation with this guy.”

She turned from the sink and looked at him. “Thank you for your concern, Brendan, but I think I can handle it.”

When Francine walked into the apartment, she was surprised to find Cassie and Brendan in separate rooms, Brendan repairing a broken hinge on the hall closet and Cassie cleaning the top of the stove.

The three of them had often worked in different rooms while they got the apartment ready for the exit inspection, but there had always been a steady flow of conversation between them. This time there was nothing but frosty silence.

“Everything ok?” Francine whispered to Cassie.

“I’ll tell you later,” Cassie whispered back. “Let’s just get things done. Today needs to be over already.”

The situation had not improved by the following day. After Brendan left, Cassie had told Francine everything only to learn that Francine agreed with Brendan.

“What?!” Cassie yelped. “But you were the one going nuts over the fact that I was even going out with Nick!”

“Yeah, I got excited. It's not every day my best friend gets asked out by a multi-millionaire!” Francine was working hard to control her tone of voice. “But I never said you should move in with the guy!”

“I’m not moving in with him! Why doesn’t anyone understand that? He’s offering me a place to stay until I can get into my apartment. I don’t think he’s even going to be there most of the time! He’s always traveling! I probably won’t ever see him! It’s not that big of a deal!”

“Ok, Cassie, ok. Just don’t rush into this, all right? Take some time to think about it.”

“I don’t have time!”

The argument escalated from there. Francine thought Cassie was blaming her for leaving. Cassie thought no one but Nick was even attempting to make things easier for her. By the end of the evening, they weren’t talking.

Luckily, their feuds seldom lasted longer than a night. They’d patched things up a little over breakfast, agreeing not to talk about Cassie’s decision any further.

A couple days later, Cassie had agreed to Nick's idea. They were in his car, on their way, she assumed, to the house on Louisburg Drive.

Instead, Nick drove the Town Car toward the center of town and straight to the Four Seasons. Nick led her into the plush, softly-lit elevator, and much to her surprise, pushed the button marked Penthouse.

She looked up at him, the question in her eyes.

He placed a finger to his lips. “Don't talk. This is best appreciated in silence.” He smiled.

The elevator doors opened, revealing one of the most spectacular views Cassie had ever seen; a panorama of millions of tiny lights lining the shore of the inky Atlantic.

She had never seen the city from this perspective before. It was breathtaking. It took Cassie a moment to notice that the room they’d stepped into was in darkness, making it easier to enjoy the view of the night sky. The entire ceiling was made of glass, like being caught in a bubble beneath the stars.

“Wow,” Cassie breathed. “It’s so beautiful!”

“It’s one of my favorite places,” Nick told her, pressing a button on the wall to bring up the lights a little. Cassie saw a spacious living area furnished with huge, inviting leather couches, smart black against the pristine white carpet.

At the other end of the room was a stylish sleeping area, equipped with the most luxuriously-large bed Cassie had ever seen. It was covered in black satin sheets. There was a spiral staircase leading downstairs; she peered over the edge to catch a glimpse of an ornate marble bathroom with a deep, sunken tub in dark grey stone.

“Nick -” Cassie said suddenly, a note of warning in her voice.

“It’s all right, Cassie,” he said, stopping her. “I can guess what you’re thinking and trust me, it’s all above board. I realize the layout of the space might make it appear otherwise, but I brought you here for dinner, nothing else.

I don’t know of a more beautiful spot in the whole town, and the food is excellent. I thought we’d dine informally, if that suits you. Just have some champagne and order room service.”

He led her into the living area, where a bottle of Dom Perignon was waiting on ice. With obvious expertise, Nick popped the cork and handed her a flute. Cassie browsed the room service menu. Nick either knew it by heart, or he was confident that the Four Seasons would be able to supply whatever he wanted.

He picked up the phone and requested hamachi with edamame. Cassie, unsure of what many of the menu items were, asked for clam chowder.

I should be enjoying this
, she thought as the food was laid before them.
This looks amazing. It’s just…
She couldn’t complete the thought. She didn't know how to. 

As they dined, Cassie inquired politely about Nick’s trip, his father’s business, his poetry, anything she could think of to keep them off the topic of her living arrangements. Other than a text to let him know that she would take him up on his offer, they hadn't spoken about it at all.

She knew she would have to discuss it with him, but the thought of talking about it brought back the memories of her argument with Brendan.

Still somewhat intense, Nick became increasingly relaxed and jovial as the champagne did its work. The first bottle was nearly empty by the time they were served. He ordered a second, and talked amiably of his plans for his poetry collection.

Cassie listened, sipping slowly and alternating with water. Nick did not appear to notice how he was outpacing her or how little she was saying.

After dinner, they moved on to dessert, pomegranate sorbet for Nick and chocolate dim sum for Cassie. He ordered a bottle of tokay and drank most of it himself after Cassie discovered that dessert wine was too cloyingly sweet for her tastes.

Coffee followed, and Nick insisted that they should have brandy with it.

“I’m ok,” Cassie told him. “I’ve never even tasted brandy.”

“Never tasted brandy! That’s crazy! I can see I’m going to have to educate your palate, Cassie!”

“No, it’s fine. I’m happy to be unsophisticated.”
             

Nick wasn’t listening. He was once again on the phone to room service, ordering something that sounded expensive. Within moments, a waiter appeared with a bottle and two balloon glasses. Nick poured the drinks and warmed them in his hands, handing one to Cassie and seating himself beside her to watch her drink.

Cassie thought the smell of the drink was terrible, so she swirled it in her hand and tried to distract Nick with small talk.

“Tell me how you started writing poetry,” she said, reaching for the first thing that came to her mind. “Is it something you’ve always done?”

“No,” said Nick, his face darkening. “I started when Elaine left me. I told you I was pretty broken up. I went to therapy for a while. My therapist recommended poetry as an outlet. I wrote so many poems that I had enough for a collection, so I got it published. For all the good it did.”

“What do you mean?” said Cassie. “It’s great that you got them published, isn’t it? I thought it was really hard for poets to get into print. You must have done something pretty special to have been accepted so quickly.”

“I published them myself,” Nick spat. “I got rejections from everyone I sent them to until I finally just paid to have them printed.” He drained his glass in one swallow and refilled it.

“Well, a lot of people self-publish,” Cassie said, trying to placate him, thrown by his sudden change of mood. “Even people like Proust—”

“The difference, Cassie, is that Marcel Proust didn’t have the New York Times Literary Review saying his work was vapid, juvenile and derivative. I did.”

“But you got an agent.”

“Yeah. A seriously small-time agent who’s hoping that my father will buy me the huge publicity campaign I’d need to sell anything I ever write.

He thinks I’ll learn my lesson and I’ll pay for some great reviews next time. He knows you can sell dog shit if you put enough advertising money behind it.”

After so much alcohol, Nick’s speech was beginning to slur. “Nothing has gone right since she left, Cassie. Nothing.” He fell silent and stared morosely at the floor. Cassie put a comforting arm around him.

“That will change now,” he continued. “Now that you’re here, Cassie. Things will be right now that you’re here.” His head lolled onto her shoulder. “You’re better than she was. Prettier. Smarter. We can -” he yawned – “we can love each other properly.”

Did I hear that right?
Cassie thought, worriedly. 

Nick’s body went slack against her as he fell asleep. She wondered if she could drag him across the room and put him to bed, but he was too heavy for her to carry alone. She eased her shoulder from under his drooping head and lowered him onto the couch.

She found some stationery and scribbled a quick note to thank him for dinner and to say she’d call the following day. She had planned to offer to split the check for their meal, but she knew the Four Seasons was way out of her budget. She thought about mentioning it in her note, but decided against it.

She tiptoed to the elevator, her feet sinking into the plush white carpet. As the doors closed on the spectacular view, Nick’s words replayed over and over in Cassie’s head.

He’s drunk
, she reminded herself.
People say weird things when they’re drunk. Stop over-thinking this. You need a place to stay, and you’re out of options.

“Cassie, I am so sorry,” Nick’s voicemail showed up on Cassie’s phone while she was in the shower the next day. “I was a little jet-lagged, I should have gone easier on the champagne.”

Yeah
, Cassie thought,
and the dessert wine, and the brandy.

“I hope I didn’t say or do anything too embarrassing. There’ll be a room ready for you in the house on Louisburg Drive on Monday. I’ll come by and pick you up. Just let me know what time. I can send a truck for your things, if need be. I’m planning to put you in the master bedroom; I think you’ll like it, you can see right out over the Atlantic. I’ll call again later so we can talk about the details.”

Francine padded into the kitchen in her robe and slippers. “How did it go?” she asked.

“Oh, fine,” Cassie replied. For the first time in her long friendship with Francine, she felt exhausted at the thought of sharing the details with her. She couldn’t handle the idea of another interrogation or another suggestion that she should go south for an indefinite period of stifling parental affection.

She wished that things didn’t have to change, that she could stay in the apartment with Francine, step out of her complicated whatever with Nick, and go back in time to before the argument with Brendan.

Brendan. Cassie wondered what she should do about Brendan. She decided to text him.

Hi. Wanted 2 let u know my temp address:

75 Louisburg Dr

She hit send, then watched her phone intently as she listened to Francine’s chatter about her preparations for departure. Brendan always replied quickly. With every minute that ticked by, she convinced herself she’d blown it, and he'd decided her friendship wasn’t worth it.

Then her phone buzzed.

             
hey. thanks for the info, see u sometime soon
.

Sometime soon? Cassie was disconcerted. She’d been hoping he would arrange something more definite. More than anything else, she just wanted to resume their regular coffee sessions. Even after such a short time, she missed the comfort of his company.