Chapter 10

Tuesday night in his apartment, Troy disconnected from his call with Vanessa Daniels. Not good. He dragged his hand across his face. The woman wouldn’t take no for an answer. She wanted him to be at the store with Cassie to register for wedding gifts. Nothing he said would dissuade her.

He blew out a breath and then plopped onto the couch.

Cassie wasn’t going to be happy. He’d better tell her the news now so she had time to cool down by tomorrow night. Besides, this gave him a reason to call her. Something he’d wanted to do since he dropped her off on Sunday night but had been putting off because he didn’t understand the pull she had on him.

Being with her drove him crazy, but being away from her made him feel on edge. He couldn’t win.

Might as well get this over with. Troy texted her.

No reply.

Not that he expected her to get back to him right away. He wasn’t her real fiancé. He turned on the sports channel. During commercial breaks, he checked his phone. Still no reply.

An hour passed, and then another.

That was weird. She usually would have gotten back to him by now. Maybe she’d turned off her notifications. He called her.

The phone rang four times before going to voicemail. “Hi, you’ve reached Cassandra. At the beep, you know what to do.”

“Hi, Cassie. This is Troy, Troy McKnight. Your mother called. Before I knew what was happening, I got roped into registering with you tomorrow night. Give me a call.”

Troy hung up the phone. He brushed his hand through his hair, hoping he didn’t sound as stupid as he thought he did.

He glanced at the time on his phone. Nine o’clock.

Was she still at work? On the phone?

At eleven o’clock, Troy hadn’t heard back. He got worried. Surely her bookstore didn’t stay open that late. Had she gone out with friends or on a date?

Troy clenched his hands. He didn’t like the idea of Cassie with another man. He willed his cell phone to ring or buzz.

Nothing.

He grabbed the remote and scrolled through the channels. Hundreds of shows were on, but not one caught his attention. All he wanted was to hear from Cassie.

By midnight, Troy was pacing his apartment. Forget working or sleep. His bunched muscles seemed to be getting tighter. Maybe a hot shower would help. He would be able to hear the phone ring. His muscles were going to need a hot shower or massage to relax. First, he’d tried her again.

This time, the call went straight to voicemail.

Was her battery dead? That was the best scenario. She could have forgotten to charge her phone. That seemed the most likely scenario, but how come she hadn’t answered or replied earlier? What if something had happened to her? An accident or—

His gut tightened, but he realized the way he felt could be worse. A lot worse. Imagine what he’d be going through if Cassie were his real fiancée…

♥ ♥ ♥

The next morning, Cassandra entered her apartment. She moved slowly, a combination of tiredness and soreness. She hadn’t meant to work so late at the bookstore, but so much work needed to be done. Work she couldn’t do with customers in the store. Work that kept her from sitting at home and daydreaming about Troy.

Yeah, keeping busy was good even if she would be paying the price today. She dropped her backpack on the floor and bent over to unlace her black boots.

Ouch.

A sharp pain shot up her spine. The result of sleeping on a hard floor last night. She gave a quick rub to the sore spot, removed her boots, and then plugged in her dead cell phone.

Yawning, Cassandra shuffled her way across the hardwood floor toward the kitchen. Dust clung to her socks. She needed to clean her apartment, but that would have to wait. She needed water, a shower, and sleep. In that order. Everything else could wait until she wasn’t feeling like a zombie.

She downed a glass of water. She would grab a shower and then…

Her phone beeped and buzzed. She debated ignoring the texts and voice messages, but what if something was wrong at the bookstore since she left? Moe could handle things, but he was good about keeping her informed. Sleep could wait a couple of minutes. She scrolled through the notifications.

Huh? Troy had texted her more than once. She had also missed calls from him and her mom. Voice messages, too. Cassandra played one from her mom.

“Hi, Cassandra,” her mother said cheerfully. “I never heard if Troy’s available to register with us, so I’m going to call him and see since you’re not answering. That way, we can make arrangements. Who knows? Maybe I’ll find you with Troy. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow at the store. Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”

Cassandra groaned. She did not need her mother watching her and Troy select a china pattern and other wedding presents they didn’t want or need. Doing so with Eric had been uncomfortable enough because she hadn’t wanted friends and family to spend money on them, but Eric had insisted on picking stuff they didn’t need. She would have rather had people donate to a charity in their name.

Maybe Troy had nixed her mother’s idea. Please let him have said no. Cassandra was too tired to think about registering for wedding presents or the engagement party or her soon-to-be ex-fiancé.

Cassandra rubbed her tired eyes and hit play on the message from Troy. “Hi, Cassie. This is Troy, Troy McKnight. Your mother called. Before I knew what was happening, I got roped into registering with you tomorrow night. Give me a call.”

Roped in? No way. Cassandra’s shoulders sagged. He probably said yes without putting up a fight.

Darn the man.

Lifting her arms toward the ceiling, she stretched.

Oh, boy, her back hurt.

She needed to buy a couch or futon for the back room. No more sleeping on the floor.

Better get going. A shower and nap were waiting. She had to be at the store by noon, but given the number of texts Troy had sent, she’d better call him. She touched his number.

“Cassie?”

Weird. She hadn’t heard the phone ring. But the way he said her name made her feel warm and tingling. Tiredness. That was why.

“Yes,” she said. “I got your messages. My phone died last night.”

“That’s good.” Funny, but he sounded relieved. “I mean, not about your phone. It’s good to hear from you. I was wondering what was going on.”

Something clicked in her brain. “Were you worried?”

“A little…concerned.”

His words touched her heart but also made her wonder if he was more concerned because of what being her fiancé was doing for him. The thought made her feel heavy all over. “I, uh, need to keep a phone charger in my purse or at the store.”

“I probably have an extra one if you want it.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer, but I’m sure there are a couple here somewhere.”

Silence filled the line.

“Look at the time,” Troy said. “Isn’t it a little early for you to be up?”

“I just got home.”

“You. Just. Got. Home?”

“Uh-huh.” She yawned again. “Are you at work?”

He cleared his throat. “I have a breakfast meeting in fifteen minutes.”

She stretched her neck. Her back seized with pain. “Ow.”

“Are you okay, Cassie?”

“I’m tired, and my back is killing me.” She yawned once more. Forget the shower. She would take one after her nap. Crawling into her comfortable, warm bed would feel so good. It would be nicer if Troy were there to hold her while she slept.

Uh-oh. She must be exhausted to think like that. Yeah, that was the reason.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” she added, as much for her benefit as his. “I’m going to bed as soon as I hang up the phone.”

Silence.

“Troy?” She didn’t know why he was being so quiet. Had they been disconnected? She glanced at the screen, but the call was still going. “Are you there?”

“I’m here,” he said finally. His voice sounded different—terse…harder.

Cassandra shrugged. A knife-edged pain shot through her spine. She didn’t know what his problem was, nor did she care right now. “You don’t have to come tonight.”

Selecting dishes, appliances, and bedding with Troy would be too couple-like and intimate. The line between fact and fiction was blurring. At least in her mind. Registering wouldn’t help. Best to keep her distance.

“Don’t you think doing this together will be, uh, awkward?” she asked when he still hadn’t responded.

“Yes, but your mother thought I should come.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “You’re turning into the dutiful son-in-law.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

Yes, he did. But Troy wasn’t coming to please Cassandra. Ambition was a powerful motivator. She couldn’t forget that.

“I’ll pick you up at your bookstore and drive you to Union Square,” he continued with an edge to his tone. “What’s the name of your place?”

Her heavy eyelids drooped, so she forced them open. “Cassandra’s Attic.”

“I’ll be there at six-thirty.”

“Okay.” She stifled another yawn. She didn’t want to think about seeing Troy. A couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep was all she wanted.

“And thanks,” he said. “I know this isn’t easy for you, either.”

Black spots appeared before her eyes. She had to get some sleep. Maybe she wouldn’t dream about Troy. “I’ll see you tonight.”

♥ ♥ ♥

That evening, Troy walked toward Cassie’s bookstore. The area wasn’t as upscale as where he lived, but the neighborhood had a trendy vibe. Shops and cafés lined each side of the street. The scents of olive oil and lamb wafted in the air as he passed a crowded Greek restaurant.

His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten much at breakfast or lunch. Not due to work. He couldn’t eat. Thanks to Cassie.

She’d been on his mind since her call. Okay, before that, but more so now. Where had she spent last night and with who? She must have had a good time if she hurt her back.

Everything inside of him felt so tight—like a knob cranked too many turns. At any moment, he would explode.

Troy didn’t understand why she’d gone out with another guy. Sure, their engagement wasn’t real, but her kisses hadn’t been for show or fun. They’d meant something.

To him, at least.

He thought they had to her, too.

Warning bells sounded. Danger signs illuminated.

He was falling for Cassie Daniels. And falling in a way he hadn’t done before. His once-routine life was being taken over by a woman who would think nothing of ordering dessert first at a five-star restaurant. A woman who would jump out of an airplane and then check to see if she were wearing a parachute. A woman he’d known a little more than a week.

Troy’s stomach knotted.

What was going on? He’d never felt this way. He didn’t want to feel this way now. Not about Cassie. He had an excellent job with a partnership on the horizon. In a few years, he’d have everything he ever wanted. He’d never have to worry about taking care of his family…about anything. He didn’t need this.

Her.

So why was he upset?

Because he couldn’t stop thinking about Cassie kissing another man.

Troy wanted to punch someone, preferably her new guy. As his temperature rose, he flexed his fingers. That didn’t relax him. Nothing he’d tried all day had.

It took him a minute to realize he’d walked past the bookstore. He retraced his steps until he stood under a wooden sign that said Cassandra’s Attic. He peered in the front window that was decorated for Halloween with a jack-o’-lantern, cobwebs, and spiders. Horror hardcovers and children’s paperbacks were also displayed.

Smiling, Cassie stood behind the counter and spoke to a customer. Something in Troy’s stomach fluttered. He might not be happy with Cassie, but he couldn’t stop staring. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but blond tendrils framed her face. Pink earrings dangled from her ears and matched her T-shirt.

Beautiful.

But not his.

A weight pressed against the center of his chest. Cassie had wanted only a fiancé for the night. That had turned into two weeks. Now that he’d spent the weekend with her, he was confused about his feelings. He shouldn’t want to spend more time with her, but he did.

Cassie might annoy him at times, but she also made him laugh. He was used to his life being predictable and, okay, he’d admit it, boring. She brought needed spontaneity into his scheduled days. He never knew what to expect when she was around. That wasn’t always a good thing, but he’d had more fun with her in the past week than in the past three years.

A man approached the shop. He opened the door and then glanced at Troy. “Going inside?”

Troy took a step toward the entrance. He couldn’t stand out here all night. “Thanks.”

Walking into the store, he smelled cinnamon and cloves. Old wooden shelves crammed with books fit the casual atmosphere. Homey signs pointed out the various sections. Burnt-orange walls gave the place an overall warmth.

So much potential.

After graduating college, he’d worked as a business consultant before going to get his MBA. He scanned the layout and imagined improvements that could be made. Some with no cost, only a little sweat.

Arranging the shelves differently would make better use of the space. The loft could be converted to a coffee bar. But as it was, the store was quaint with a homey, small-town charm, but seeing the possibilities of ways to improve the flow of customers and increase income excited him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time if he were honest with himself. Not that he didn’t offer suggestions to the startups they invested in, but he’d forgotten how much he’d enjoyed his old job despite all the traveling.

A man with jet-black hair sat on a wooden chair and held a large book. Toward the rear of the store, a woman read to her two children. Several other customers lounged on stools reading books and magazines.

“I’ll be with you in a minute, Troy,” Cassie said from behind the counter. She focused her attention on an elderly woman.

Cassie dashed out from behind the counter, hurried down an aisle, pulled a paperback from a shelf, and rushed back. As she rang up the sale, she laughed as if her customer were an old friend. As soon as Cassie said goodbye, another customer—a thirty-something female—stepped up to the counter with a stack of paperbacks.

Cassie glanced at Troy.

“Go ahead. I’m early.” He enjoyed seeing her in action. She might act unconventional and claim to be a free spirit, but she knew how to run a business and keep her clients happy. In such a tough market for independent bookstores, customer service could be the difference between success and failure.

Another customer walked up to the counter to make a purchase.

Cassie yelled, “Moe.”

As she reached under the counter, a twenty-something man raced down the stairs. He had short black hair with a six-inch multicolored mohawk down the center. He was tall and thin with an ear-to-ear grin. His jeans were ripped, and he wore a black T-shirt with a quote from Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven.

Cassie whispered something into the man’s ear, and Moe stepped behind the counter.

Walking toward Troy, Cassie swung a small purse over her shoulder. A black skirt flowed around her legs. “I’m sorry you had to wait.”

“You have a nice bookstore.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

Troy motioned to the man behind the counter who watched every move Cassie made. “Does he work for you?”

She looked over. “You mean Moe?”

Troy nodded.

“I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s my right hand and best friend.” The affection in her voice matched her words.

Was Moe her new boyfriend? Troy gritted his teeth. “How long has he worked for you?”

“Since I opened. He wandered in when I was painting, and that was it. He’s been my guardian angel since.” She faced Moe. “Bye.”

Moe’s lopsided grin looked fake to Troy. Maybe he should warn Cassie. Or ask Dixon to run a background check on the guy. Who just walked into a place like that?

“Have fun, Cass,” Moe said.

Cass. Moe called her Cass?

Troy waited for her to correct Moe.

She merely smiled. “Are you ready, Troy?”

He was ready to kill Moe. Was he the one who hurt her back?

Troy clenched his hand. “Does Moe stand for Mohawk?”

Cassie laughed. “No. It’s a nickname. His real name is Zack.”

Troy didn’t know why he was torturing himself, but he had to ask. “Why Moe?”

“He’s a big Three Stooges fan. He didn’t think Curly fit him. His brother is named Larry, and who wants to be called Shemp?” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. The same way she’d asked Troy to be her fiancé.

Okay, time to go. He opened the door for her. “Is your back better?”

Why did he ask her that? He didn’t want to know the details.

“It is, thank you.” Cassie walked outside the store. “It’s my own fault. Moe told me, but I wouldn’t listen.”

Troy did not want to hear the intimate details of her night of passion with a man named after one of the Three Stooges. “Cassie, I—”

“Moe told me I wasn’t in my early twenties anymore. That I couldn’t stay up all night and work on—”

“I really—” Wait, what did she say? “Work?”

“Yes,” she said. “Being gone over the weekend put me behind. Moe did what he could, but he was too busy with customers. So we had to stack books and rearrange the shelves. Moe had to leave around two in the morning. He made me promise I wouldn’t walk home alone.”

Way to go, Moe.

Troy wanted to shake the man’s hand. “What about your back?”

“I slept on the floor in the storeroom. Guess Moe’s right. I’m not a young pup anymore.”

“None of us are.” Troy’s relief was palpable. No need to be concerned or jealous. Not that he had been.

Not much anyway.