Slices of Life (5 page)

Sarah yanked the door open. “Hi, Kimmy. Sorry about that.” She was out of breath and flushed, she was sure, but if her babysitter noticed, she said nothing. “Come on in.”

Kimmy was her regular sitter and familiar with the house and the kids. She set her armload of books on the coffee table as Sarah gathered her purse and keys. “Jessie was tired today, so she’s taking a little impromptu nap. Don’t let her sleep past five, though. If she does, get her up or she won’t sleep tonight.”

“No prob.” Kimmy plopped onto the couch and picked up a book. Glancing up at Sarah, she smiled and waved a dismissive hand. “Go. I’ve got it.”

“You’re the best. I shouldn’t be long. Thanks.”

The ride to the school was a blessing. Sarah used it to try to relax and calm her pounding heart and her racing blood, though getting the images from the DVD out of her head was not nearly as easy. Flashes of the beautiful blonde spread out on the dining room table like an invitation to a feast kept her mouth dry and her panties perpetually damp. She wasn’t sure who turned her on more, the blonde offering herself so intimately to another woman or the brunette as the recipient of such a gift.

It was a definite toss-up.

At the school, she put the SUV in Park and took a deep breath. Giving her head a stern shaking, she hoped to rattle things back into place and get her mind focused. She nodded at people she knew as she entered the school and walked down the halls looking for Room 12. Hyperaware, her mind kept up a running commentary of every woman she passed.
Did this one have sex today? Oh, that one smells nice; I wonder what perfume she’s wearing. I bet this one’s breasts are beautiful. What does that one sound like when she has an orgasm?

“Oh my god, stop it!” she whispered aloud as she approached her son’s classroom. “Focus!” It was her first meeting with this teacher and the last thing she wanted was to come across as one of those parents who are clueless about her child’s schooling. A deep cleansing breath, a check of her watch, and Sarah entered.

The woman behind the desk looked younger than she probably was. Short dark hair was tucked behind her ears and her gently made-up brown eyes seemed to take up more than their share of her face. Her skin was smooth as porcelain, her lashes and brows almost black, and her full lips shined with a recent coat of gloss. When she glanced at Sarah and smiled, the entire room felt warmer.

“Mrs. Holt?” She stood and held out her hand.

Sarah cleared her throat and reached for the hand, which was warm, soft, and Sarah held on a beat longer than she probably should have. “Sarah. Please.”

“Hi, Sarah. I’m Cassidy Freeman. I’m so pleased to meet you. Jeremy is a great kid.” She gestured to the chair next to her desk. “Have a seat.”

Sarah thanked the gods above for the chair because she was certain her knees were about to give out.
Okay, so it’s not just Rebecca
, she thought with a mixture of dismay and a little thrill. There was definitely something about Cassidy Freeman… Something… Sarah wet her lips, trying her damnedest to listen as Cassidy talked about Jeremy’s strengths and weaknesses. Her eyes traveled from Cassidy’s full lips across her jawline and down the side of her neck to the collarbone revealed by the open collar of her emerald green blouse. She stopped at what she knew from the movie
The English Patient
was called the super sternum notch, that delicate spot at the base of a woman’s throat. Right then, Sarah wanted nothing more than to run her tongue over that skin.

“So, other than that whole talking thing, he’s doing great,” Cassidy was saying. Sarah glanced up to meet her eyes, which held concern. “Sarah? Are you all right?”

Sarah blinked several times and forced a smile onto her face. “I’m good.” She hoped her nodding and feigned enthusiasm weren’t over the top. “No, I’m good,” she repeated, only one clear thought in her head.

What the hell am I going to do?

Jeremy Holt’s mother—who was totally hot, despite seeming a little dazed—was Cassidy Freeman’s last appointment for the evening. Thank god because she was so excited about her date that night, she felt as if she’d spent the day constantly squirming in her chair like some of her students. Parent-teacher conferences probably ended up being a lifesaver, no matter how much she’d muttered and resented them all day. If she’d gone home on time, Cassidy knew she would have driven herself to the brink of insanity pacing her apartment and trying to decide what to wear. This way, it was after five o’clock. She was meeting Deb at the restaurant at 7:30, so she had barely two hours to shower, change, and get there. Cassidy worked much better under pressure.

An uneventful drive home, a quick zip through the mail, a quick feeding of the cat, and Cassidy was in the shower reflecting on what little she knew about Deb Crawford.

In her mid-thirties, Deb was the president of her own payroll company. She was fairly well-known locally, her company growing by leaps and bounds and participating in many local charity events. So…confident and financially well-off. Those were definite plusses to Cassidy. She’d spent three years supporting her last girlfriend—both monetarily and psychologically—and it was more than exhausting. She was not in any hurry to deal with that again. According to Cassidy’s friend who was setting them up, Deb had been in a relationship for ten years, but had been single for almost two years since then. She had a bit of a reputation for womanizing, and that gave Cassidy the slightest bit of trepidation, but she was willing to find out for herself. Besides, she was a little bit fascinated by Deb’s success and drive. She was looking forward to exploring those subjects. Strong, intelligent women were such a turn-on.

Over the past few days, Cassidy gave great thought to her outfit, weighing the pros and cons of different choices and what they’d say about her. Too sexy could give Deb the impression Cassidy was expecting something more would happen than dinner. Too casual could mean either she didn’t really care or she had no fashion sense, neither of which was true. So, she wracked her brains to come up with something suitably in between. The resulting black slacks, black camisole, and ivory silk blouse was pretty damn perfect, if she did say so herself. Simple, classy, feminine, yet confident.

“What do you think?” she asked Hermione as she studied herself in the full-length mirror. The cat meowed.

“You’re right. I almost forgot the jewelry.” She kept it all subtle, not wanting to overdo it. The necklace was a muted turquoise oval on a black thong that gave a warm splash of color to the outfit. Simple diamond studs went in her ears and she tucked her dark hair behind them. An understated touch of makeup, a spritz of her Coco perfume, and she was ready.

Hermione yawned when Cassidy kissed the top of her head and grabbed a jacket. “No parties while I’m gone. Leave a light on for me, okay?”

Being a weeknight, the restaurant wasn’t terribly busy, but had enough of a crowd to keep the wait staff moving at a steady pace. Cassidy arrived at 7:25 and before Deb, so she grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered herself a glass of the house Cabernet, sipping as she took in her surroundings. She remembered when it was a lesbian bar several years ago. As was the case any time somebody tried to open one in this city, it didn’t last long. But instead of changing endless hands and renaming what was essentially the same bar over and over again, this time, it was purchased by two lesbian business partners who made it into a nice, upscale restaurant—that happened to have a bar. There was no dance floor, only a corner piano where various jazz musicians played during happy hours and beyond, loudly enough to enjoy, but not so loud as to make conversation difficult. The menu was simple and elegant, the wine list extensive, and the atmosphere one of warmth and contentment. Cassidy loved it here.

At 7:45, she pulled her phone from her clutch and set it in view on the bar, in case Deb tried to get ahold of her for some reason. She debated a second glass of wine, but the bartender interrupted her.

“Waiting for somebody?” he asked. He had that lean, slightly effeminate look of a guy who played on Cassidy’s team. His sandy hair was very short, and his eyes were an interesting light brown, warm and kind.

“Sort of a blind date,” Cassidy replied. “I know what she looks like, but we’ve never met.”

“Internet date?”

Cassidy shook her head. “God, no,” she laughed, then gave a mock shudder. “Set up by a friend of a friend.”

“Ah. Well, my name is Jason, and I say relax and have another glass of wine.”

“I say you’re right, Jason. I’m Cassidy.” They shook hands as they chuckled together, and he poured her some more wine.

By the time another twenty minutes went by, Cassidy was feeling a mix of hurt, anger, and embarrassment. It was one thing to sit at a bar alone for a few minutes while waiting for your date to arrive. It was quite another to sit at the bar alone for nearly an hour. Should she call Deb? Did she screw up the day/time/place? She slid her finger across the touchscreen of her phone to activate it, and checked to make sure she hadn’t missed a call or text. Nothing.

She sent a quick text to her friend Amy, who’d initially suggested the date, asking if she’d heard anything from Deb. Then she waited.

The restaurant crowd increased a bit and there was a steady din of conversation all around her. Several people took up residence along the bar, keeping Jason busy. He glanced Cassidy’s way as he served a customer, gave her a wink. She watched him work, amazed as she always was by the efficiency of most bartenders. He wrote nothing down, mixed drinks in no time flat, smiled and laughed, flirted with men and women alike, and kept the whole area clean and wiped down. She wondered absently if he made a decent living, thought he probably went home with a nice pile of tips.

On the bar, her phone vibrated and she opened the text from Amy. It said simply, “She there yet? I haven’t heard anything.”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding,” Cassidy muttered, her lips pressed together in a straight, thin line. Was this really happening? Was she really being stood up? Didn’t that only happen in movies and romance novels? Who did that in real life? Then a worse thought occurred to her: What if Deb had peeked in, seen her, then turned around and fled? Cassidy knew she was an attractive woman, but this uncertainty was messing with her head, and she felt her self-esteem circling the drain.

“Nothing yet?” Jason’s voice yanked her out of her wallowing, and she looked up to meet his gentle eyes.

“Nope.” She sighed, trying to hide her embarrassment.

“Seriously? No text or voicemail or anything? Who does that?”

Cassidy loved his indignation on her behalf and felt a sudden urge to hug him. “I know, right?”

“Well, screw her. Him?” He cocked an eyebrow at her and she smiled.

“Her.”

“Well, screw her. It’s her loss.” He topped off her glass.

“You’re damn right it is,” she said with a nod, hoping she sounded tougher and more determined than she felt.

Jason hustled down the bar to take care of a customer. Cassidy unlocked her phone and opened it to her Facebook page, trying not to dwell on the anger, hurt, and embarrassment that was beginning to blanket her like a fog. She couldn’t help herself; she went to Deb’s page, but there was nothing incriminating there. She’d learned by watching her students that most people were rarely careful about the information they posted and who might see it. Deb’s status hadn’t been updated since yesterday, so there was nothing saying she was at some club or out to dinner with friends or avoiding the date she was supposed to be on right now. Cassidy wasn’t sure if she was happy or sad about the lack of material; it would be nice to know one way or another. Wouldn’t it?

A thought came to her and her thumbs were moving over her keyboard before she could stop herself. She updated her status.

How long can a beautiful woman sit alone at a bar before somebody offers to buy her a drink?

She reread it, smiled, and hit Post. At least Amy would see it. And if Amy saw it, Deb would eventually hear about it. Passive-aggressive?
Oh, yes,
Cassidy thought.
My mother taught me well. And I’m totally okay with it.

She set down her phone and picked up her wine just as Jason approached her with a small plate and set it in front of her along with a rolled napkin containing silverware.

“Just a little something to help the wine sit okay,” he said. “On the house.”

Touched, Cassidy didn’t know what to say.

“I repeat—screw her. She obviously doesn’t know what she’s missing.” He went off to tend to his clientele.

“If I was a guy,” Cassidy said under her breath, “I’d totally ask
you
out.”

The plate before her had a small variety of appetizers…some bruschetta, raw veggies and a generous dollop of what looked like homemade hummus, and a ramekin of warm artichoke dip. It was only in that moment that she realized how hungry she was and dug in, trying hard not to think about the sympathy she always felt for people she saw eating alone in a restaurant. How many of them had been stood up?

The food was outstanding and Cassidy wondered if she was making any humming noises as she ate; it was that good. The hummus was smooth and flavorful, the garlic there but not overpowering. The bruschetta was tangy and delicious and the artichoke dip was so warm and creamy, she considered abandoning the crackers and simply eating it with a spoon. For twenty minutes, she actually thought about nothing but the food and the wine and let herself just enjoy it. She was dabbing at the corners of her mouth with the linen napkin when a voice next to her posed a question.

“What did you think?”

Cassidy turned to meet warm hazel eyes that studied her through rimless glasses. A woman in a white chef’s coat stood next to her, a delicate smile on her face. She was about the same height standing as Cassidy was sitting on the tall barstool, and she leaned one elbow on the bar as she cocked her head. Her hair was cut in a simple bob, highlighted with toasty chestnut and subtle streaks of gold. Cassidy put her in her early to mid-fifties and there was something about her…something that drew Cassidy, that almost called to her. It was a feeling that both comforted and discomfited her. She cleared her throat.