Someone to Stay Page 10

  “Please...your table is right this way.”

  Jake followed the host to his destination, Cassie following close behind. He could practically feel her uncertainty - this place was definitely fancier than she was probably used to, he could see it on her face when they stepped through the door, but he was certain she would enjoy it, if she gave it a chance.

  After they were done hiking and he was back in his hotel room, he had spent at least an hour looking for the proper restaurant to take her to - this was one of the only ones that fit. As the host led them to their private room, he looked at Cassie, giving her what he imagined to be a warm smile.

  She looked stunning tonight. He could hardly believe his eyes when he saw her come down the steps; the dress was perfect for her form, perfect for their evening. Her hair was done up in some sort of messy yet elegant looking bun with strands of hair so perfectly placed hanging down, her eyes expressive yet coy. He had to do everything in his power to not gape at her.

  And her mum...she held herself with a sad sort of grace, or at least, that’s what Jake imagined. She had seemed so surprised to see him, obviously not expecting company in her attire but she had recovered well, inviting him inside. He rather thought it likely that she wasn’t all that impressed with him - not like most people, anyway, based off her expression.

  Like mother, like daughter?

  Once they reached the room assigned to them, the host held his hand out.

  “Please, take your seats. Your server will be with you right away.”

  The room was small but cozy. There was a table with only two chairs across from each other within it, and Jake smiled at the picture of intimacy that this created. Looking over at Cassie, whose face was unreadable, he took his seat as the door closed behind them.

  “Jake...you didn’t have to go tp all this trouble.”

  She sat as well, her eyes on his as they settled in.

  “No. I didn’t,” he said, picking up the menu. He already knew what he was going to order, but he wanted something to look at that wasn’t Cassie’s burning stare. “But I wanted privacy, and I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

  When she did not reply, he flicked his eyes off the menu and onto her face. The small smile he was greeted with was enough: she was content, here. He felt a slight pressure on his foot; she was nudging him.

  “Hey, don’t look so serious,” she said, a small smile on her face. They held each others’ gazes for a tad too long before she broke eye contact, looking back down to her menu.

  “What do you recommend?” she asked casually.

  “I’ve never been here before,” he replied, as the door to their room opened. A bouncy server walked through, his dark brown hair slicked back.

  “Good evening. Welcome to Mordini’s,” he said, dipping his head in a small gesture of welcome. His posture was perfect, rim-rod straight, his black slacks perfectly pressed, a stark white shirt tucked in with a narrow black tie. “My name is John and I will be your server this evening. Our special tonight is lamb ragu with mint, paired nicely with a 2012 Castellare Chianti.”

  Jake nodded, finding the server a little pretentious but surprising himself by thinking that the special sounded rather good - better than the pork medallion he had previously decided on.

  “Do you like red wine?” Jake asked Cassie then.

  “Oh - yes, it’s fine.”

  “Then we’ll take a bottle of the Castellare Chianti, please.”

  At this, Cassie’s eyes widened and the server inclined his head deeply, leaving them alone again.

  “You ordered the whole bottle?”

  Her obvious consternation made him chuckle. “Most of the time with vintages like that, you have to,” he said. “And we’ll drink it, don’t worry. But I think I’m going to get the special. It sounds delicious.”

  “The lamb thing? What is it?”

  “It’s a red sauce pasta dish with rigatoni noodles.” He lowered his voice, setting his hands on the table and leaning in as if he had a secret. “Paired nicely with a 2012 Castellare Chianti.”

  Cassie giggled at this, holding a hand to her mouth as she did so. At exactly the same moment, John came back with two wine glasses and the bottle, proceeding with the show of opening it, allowing the both of them to try it and waiting for their nods of appreciation.

  Once their glasses were full, he asked, “Have you decided on your meal?”

  “Ah - yes. I’d like the lamb ragu,” Jake said, and he looked to Cassie.

  “I’ll have the same.”

  “Excellent. Please, enjoy your wine, and your dinner will be out shortly.”

  Once he had left them alone again, Jake took a sip of the wine, enjoying the feel of it in his mouth. Cassie followed suit, and then they looked at each other.

  It was hard to believe that just a few days ago he had been adamantly trying to talk himself out of pursuing the attraction he felt toward her. His eyes raked her face, her neck, tracing the lines of her shoulders, then meeting her eyes again. She looked so different to him now than she did when they first talked - really talked, the night he ate by himself in the restaurant. Softer, somehow. And the way she was looking at him now...

  “What are you thinking about?”

  She asked this timidly, a shy smile spreading over her face. He returned her smile with an intentionally flirtatious smirk, lowering his eyes to her mouth.

  “I -” he began, but stopping once he realized he hadn’t the faintest clue what he wanted to respond with. He licked his lips and looked away. “I was thinking about how beautiful you are right now.”

  “Oh.”

  She was embarrassed, it was plain. He looked back at her, noticing the way her eyes were trained on her wine glass.

  “You’re not used to compliments, are you?”

  Toying with the stem of her glass, Cassie shrugged. “I guess not. Not the way you give them, anyway.”

  Intrigued, he asked, “And how is that?”

  “Like...like you mean them.”

  The expression on her face was too much to bear. Without thinking, he reached across the table and took her hand lightly. It was soft and warm in his, and he relished the feeling momentarily before speaking.

  “I mean everything I say to you.”

  Perhaps his comment came out much more intensely than he intended, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Cassie didn’t move her hand away and, in fact, squeezed his a little tighter, her eyes fixated on it for a moment before looking at him again. The touch inflamed him in ways he didn’t think possible - such a tiny focal point, so small, yet it felt as intimate as a kiss. He suddenly wished that there was no table between them.

  “So do I. And my earlier comment still stands. Where did you get that shirt?”

  Her question felt out of place in the midst of his thoughts and he rather lamely looked down at the shirt in question.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Hmm. What about the pants?”

  “I have a personal shopper.”

  Incredulously, she said, “You have a personal shopper.”

  He drew his hand back and nodded. “Yes. She buys these things for me. She tells me where from, usually, but I can’t ever remember which one came from what shop.”

  The sound of her laughter made him smile. He liked to see her laugh, to know that he had made her laugh. He could hardly believe how comfortable she looked right now compared to the day they went hiking; she had seemed so uncertain of what to do, how to act. He felt that maybe he had knocked some walls down with her; the conversation they had while hiking certainly knocked down some of his. He regarded her face, remembering her confession about her father, her tone of voice so hollow and numb. It was an act, a defense mechanism. She still hurt, badly, about this - all Jake could do was try to alleviate some of that hurt, if he could.

  “So you have a personal shopper. That’s pretty cool. I sometimes wish I could pay someone to get me some clothes, because I hate buying clothes.�
�

  He felt a grin spread over his face. “So do I.”

  And this time, it was both of them that laughed, the sounds mixing together in a shared chorus of elation, and Jake finally felt himself relax.

  “And, once Sister Beverly realized that I had my pockets stuffed with sweets, my hands hurt so badly from the ruler...but it was worth the look on her face.”

  Cassie giggled easily at the end of his story, Jake joining in. She leaned over the railing, looking into the river and to the Pittsburgh skyline beyond. It had been a good evening. Dinner was delicious, their conversation easy...maybe one of the easiest things she’d done in a while. The sun had already set, but that didn’t stop the inhabitants and tourists; she was constantly reminded in between the sounds of Jake’s voice of the presence of people walking behind them, the constant movement of this city a reminder that she was in the heart of Station Square.

  They’d had a great night - she had gone into the evening worrying about Sam, thinking about ways to tell him about their argument, but as the night wore on it became less and less important that she tell him at all. His laugh, his voice, his eyes...yes, Sam and their fight had ceased to exist over the last couple of hours, and Cassie had felt the stress melt away as the evening progressed.

  She felt a touch on her arm that interrupted her thoughts, and she turned her head, meeting his eyes, a tender smile transforming his face. It was disarming - so different from the man she had thought she’d met that evening at the hotel, yet still largely the same.

  “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

  “Oh...Jake. Thank you for inviting me. I’ve had the best time.”

  She meant that. Other than the small hiccup of her mother...and really, she was glad now that he had met her, in that there was no reason to keep anything secret anymore. It was a relief. And looking at him now, that tender smile morphing into something much deeper, she felt that sort of pull toward him that she had recognized early on. He was so open, inviting her, and she turned her body, not exactly leaning in, but not shying out of the possibility of coming closer. Her body seemed to come alive as she moved nearer, silently willing him to close the space between them.

  His hand moved and dropped to her back, right in the middle; his gaze was focused on her face, his eyes darting toward her mouth. The blood in her veins began to race, her pulse quickening at the thought that he wanted to kiss her - he was thinking about kissing her.

  She forgot the world around her; the noise and people fading away, her mind focused on only one thing. She urged him to lean in, silently, her heart beating frantically in her chest.

  It was only chance, really, that she even noticed the movement in the corner of her eye.

  Click.

  The sound was incredibly loud in the context of this moment, and Cassie whipped her head to see its source. Not even ten feet away stood a stocky looking man with cargo pants and flip flops, his face entirely covered by a big, black camera.

  She could only stare at this man, entirely numbed as she realized exactly what had just happened, as she felt Jake’s hand move away from her back, gripping her upper arm. Not hard, but firm.

  “Let’s go.”

  She looked away from the man toward Jake, whose voice had suddenly turned cold and harsh, his face uncharacteristically blank.

  “Jake?”

  “Let’s go. We’re leaving. Let’s get back to the car.”

  She could only let herself be led by Jake at first, and then eventually she felt him relinquish her arm. They didn’t say anything as they walked toward the car, and she could feel that man’s gaze burning into the back of her head.

  They made their way to the parking deck, Jake completely silent. She let her eyes dart around the people around them, pedestrians going to and from their destinations, and she realized for the first time exactly who she was with.

  She saw people do double takes, triple takes. She saw people stop and stare. It was awkward for her when she felt their eyes slide between the two of them, and Jake and Cassie continued to walk down the sidewalk, all the way to the corner where they had to stop for traffic.

  “Jake Mason?”

  Cassie turned at the sound of the voice, a teen-aged looking girl with an older woman, presumably her mother.

  “Ah - yes. Hullo there.”

  The change in his voice was immediate and off-putting. It was as if he was an entirely new person, the same person she had met at the hotel. She recalled that distant yet polite man, eyes shuttered to the world, and she realized in that moment that this was the act.

  Cassie stood awkwardly aside as the girl came closer, holding her phone.

  “I can’t believe this. Jake - could I please take a picture with you?”

  “Oh, of course,” he replied. He took the phone she offered and Cassie watched, dazed, as he broke into that familiar smile, the one she saw on his Wiki page, the one she saw the first time she met him. He posed with the girl, his arm draped casually around her shoulder.

  “Oh my God, thank you so much,” she said once they broke apart, taking her phone back and checking the picture.

  “You’re very welcome. We have to go now. Have a good night,” Jake said then, polite yet final. For the first time since the girl came up to him, he looked at Cassie, fleetingly, expression unreadable as his gaze raked her face before looking quickly away.

  “Bye! Thanks again!”

  This whole thing made her feel strangely hollow.

  The road was clear, so they crossed it hurriedly and entered the parking deck heading toward the valet section where they had originally left the car. She watched as he handed the man his ticket and a folded bill, and the man nodded his head and hurried off.

  “Jake -”

  “Please. Not yet.”

  His words were kind, but his tone was not. He was barely looking at her, and she stepped back a bit, watching his rigid frame, his obvious tension. What the hell happened? One photo - one paparazzi, and he had completely turned into someone else. She felt helpless as she stood there, watching his back. She drew up her arms and hugged herself.

  A few moments later, Jake’s rental drove up, the valet hopping out of it.

  “Thank you, sir. I hope you two have a great rest of your night.”

  “Of course. Thank you,” Jake replied as he opened the passenger door for Cassie.

  Sliding into the car and buckling her seatbelt, Jake closed the door and went around the car to his side, getting in and sitting back, buckling his seatbelt and tapping on the GPS console.

  He was taking her home. The woman on the screen told him to please drive to the highlighted route.

  “Cassie...” Jake started and then stopped. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing up his neat curls, and Cassie watched him. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t hurt by his curtness, such a stark contrast to his earlier gentleness, and she waited in silence for his next words.

  “Cassie, I’m so sorry about the way I acted back there.”

  His hands, gripping the steering wheel, looked white; his eyes were looking straight ahead.

  “And what exactly happened back there?” she asked, wishing he’d look at her.

  He shook his head, looking down into his lap. “The paparazzi happened.”

  “Jake...look at me.”

  Dropping his hands from the wheel, he turned his head, meeting her eye. She could see remorse there, and maybe a little bit of shame.

  “What happened with you?” she asked, pointedly.

  She hoped her question was clear. Judging by the look on his face, it was. She wished she could somehow take that sadness away from him, to turn this moment into a good one again.

  “I - I’m sorry. You have to understand...I have spent most of my career actively trying to avoid moments like that. I don’t want to upset you, or turn you away from me. I had the best time this evening and I’ve ruined it. I’m sorry.”

  With his words, Cassie thought she understood: the paparazzi t
riggered a response in him he hadn’t anticipated. She figured he had to know that there was the possibility of someone eventually spotting them together, especially in Station Square, one of the more touristy spots in the city. But, it was obvious that he hadn’t actually prepared himself for it. Nodding, she reached out, gripping his right hand resting against his thigh, the contact making her hyper-aware of each nerve ending in her own hand; she felt it buzzing, singing, at the small touch.

  “It’s okay. I understand. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” She grinned, catching his eye, willing him to smile again, and said with a slight giggle, “Just make it up to me somehow.”

  He rose an eyebrow at this, a small smirk playing across his mouth. “Be careful what you wish for.”

  It was moments like these that took her by surprise, the strength his words had, the hum in her body in response. She shifted in her seat, uncomfortably aware that she’d very much like him to demonstrate what he meant by that, and tried to play it off with another laugh.

  “Are you ready to go, my dear?” he asked, his voice like velvet in her ears. She wanted to say no, her body was telling her no, but her mind was telling her to slow this down, to not dive in too much, too fast.

  And with an enthusiasm she didn’t feel, she said, “Yes.”

  8.

  As Jake weaved in and out of traffic in silence, the only sounds in the car were that of the road outside and quiet music from the radio.

  Cassie had fallen into silence after they left the parking deck, face turned toward the window. He wanted to bring her back into conversation, to further solidify that she had forgiven him, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He cursed himself and his irrational behavior. The look on her face when he had turned cold was unexpected, and he recoiled at the memory. He had assumed she’d just understand, that she’d know exactly what was running through his mind as he heard that dreaded click sound.

  And now, without a doubt, he would be on the cover of something. And so would she. And he had told himself that he was okay with that. But, looking over at her briefly, he wondered if she realized what this meant for her.