Chapter 14

Waiting for the bus, Troy leaned against a graffiti-covered wall and rubbed his chin. The sharp stubble dug into his fingertips. He needed to shave, take a shower, and change into clean clothes. He didn’t need Cassie.

The bus stopped in front of him. Troy reached into his pocket. His empty pocket. His cash belonged to the man selling flowers on 24th Street. His wallet was in his jacket, and his jacket was at Cassie’s.

No money, no debit card.

As the bus pulled away, a trail of foul-smelling exhaust fumes was left in its wake. He was tired, too tired to walk across town. Tired enough to sit and think for a while. Brushing his hand through his hair, he sat on a nearby step.

Things weren’t turning out as he’d planned. He’d planned on being made a partner, becoming a millionaire, and providing for his family. Sitting in a doorway like a bum wasn’t part of his plan. Meeting and falling in love with Cassie weren’t part of his plan, either.

Troy wanted to get married and have children, but he had a definite image of the kind of woman who would be a good wife. He wanted a woman who would be the perfect corporate, okay…trophy, wife. A woman who would support his goals, be understanding about his work, and fit in with the crowd.

Cassie was none of those things. Although beautiful and intelligent, she was also free-spirited and unpredictable. Conformity was a four-letter word to her. Cassie didn’t fit his image. But he loved her.

Was love enough?

She didn’t think so.

And back in college, he hadn’t thought so when he broke up with his then-girlfriend. Although, his feelings for her had never been as strong as they were for Cassie. Now…

An old man with a weather-beaten face and snow-white hair sat next to him. The man wore tattered, grungy clothes and carried an overloaded duffel bag. He needed a shower worse than Troy did.

“I haven’t seen you around before, so I thought I’d warn you.” The man’s voice was deep and gravelly. “Crazy Teddy sleeps in this doorway, but he shouldn’t be here until later.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Troy said.

“Nice pants.” The old man touched the wrinkled fabric. “You steal ’em?”

Troy wore Armani. The old man had taste. “No.”

“Bad day, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.” The old man buttoned his army-issue jacket. “Must have something to do with a woman. No one likes to talk about that.”

Another bus stopped. A stream of passengers unloaded. A hipster-looking couple stared at Troy and the old man. The woman, wearing a ripped pair of jeans with a long sweater, handed two fare receipts to Troy.

“Have a nice day,” she said before rejoining her significant other.

Troy stared at the receipts—also called transfers—that would allow him to get to his apartment. “You want one of these?”

The man smiled a toothless grin. “This is my home. I don’t need to go anywhere.”

Troy needed the transfer, but did an average homeless person need one? He didn’t think so. “I need to go home.”

“Where is that?”

Good question. Home wasn’t his apartment with a view of a sliver of the Marina Green and bay. Home wasn’t his parents’ farm. “I wish I knew.”

“I’m happy here,” the old man said. “More sun than other parts of the city. I used to live in the park, but that didn’t work out.”

Before Troy could say anything, a man in an expensive jogging suit strolled by. He wore earbuds and three hundred-dollar running shoes. He handed the old man a dollar. “Spend the money on food, not booze.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” The old man gave a mock bow before handing the dollar bill to Troy. “You need this more than me.”

He didn’t need the man’s money. Troy had a bus transfer. He could get home on his own. He had money in the bank, a 401K full of mutual funds, a small investment portfolio, and an excellent job. “I can’t take your money.”

“You look like a good kid.” The old man pushed the dollar into Troy’s hand. “Take the dollar and some advice. Clean yourself up and get a job. Find a woman to love and make a home for yourself.”

Troy could have all those things. “Sounds like good advice.”

The old man nodded. “I had all of that once, but I let it slip away. You’re young enough. You still have a chance.”

Troy clutched the dollar in his hand. Suddenly, this one bill felt more important than the millions he planned to make. “I’ll try.”

“And always remember where home is.” The man’s eyes focused on something Troy couldn’t see. “I forgot. When I finally remembered, it wasn’t there anymore.”

♥ ♥ ♥

Looking in the mirror, Cassandra cringed. So much for not crying. She had ugly cried.

Not good.

She rubbed concealer under her swollen, red eyes. She had to pull herself together somehow. The engagement party was in less than two hours.

The doorbell buzzed.

Her heart leaped into her throat. She ran to open it, unsure of why her pulse raced.

Emily, wearing flowing black pants and a matching bolero jacket, stood with a metallic cosmetic box and a hair straightener in her hands.

Not now. Cassandra didn’t need this. “Why are you here?”

“This is the first party I’ve thrown as Mrs. Eric Wainwright.” Emily marched into the apartment. “Lots of VIPs will be there. I have to make a good impression, and I want everything to be perfect.”

“Including me.”

Emily nodded. “Is that so bad, Cassandra?”

“No, it’s…”

Her sister was the perfect trophy wife. No wonder Eric had cheated. Troy might not cheat, but he would find someone else who fit what he was looking for. A woman like Emily.

Cassandra blinked back an unexpected rush of tears.

Emily hugged her, an uncharacteristic gesture that opened the spill gate of Cassandra’s tears.

“What’s wrong?” her sister asked.

After a minute, the tears subsided. Cassandra stepped away. “I’m sorry, Emily. I hope I didn’t get your jacket wet.”

“I’m not worried about the jacket,” Emily said. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or am I going to have to guess why Troy’s luggage and suit jacket are sitting by your door, but he’s not here?”

“He forgot to take them with him.” Cassandra hesitated. “It’s over. We’re over.”

“No, it isn’t.” Emily placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not going to let a lovers’ quarrel ruin my party.”

They weren’t lovers. They weren’t anything. But Cassandra didn’t dare say those words. She pushed back her shoulders. “Don’t worry. Your party will go on as planned.”

“Thank goodness or Daddy would kill me.” Emily patted her chest. “I thought I was experiencing heart palpitations.”

“Why would Dad care?”

“The party was his idea, but he wanted me to throw it.”

Cassandra didn’t understand, but she didn’t care. She only cared about Troy. If only…

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Emily asked.

“Not really.”

Her sister walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a cucumber from the refrigerator and sliced it. “Lie down on the couch and put these on your eyes.”

Cassandra took the cold slices and did as she was instructed. A drawer opened and closed. Water ran in the sink.

“Here you go.” Emily placed a wet cloth on Cassandra’s forehead. “Do you have any ibuprofen?”

“In the bathroom, but I don’t want any.”

“They’re not for you.” A few minutes later, Emily returned to the living room. “Are you wearing the blue dress on your bed?”

“Yes.”

“The pearls you got from Mom and Dad for graduation would be perfect. And you should wear your hair up. I’ll plug in the straightener.”

Emily was being too nice, too understanding. Cassandra didn’t know what to say. “Okay.”

“Eric told me Troy talked about you all week in Austin.”

“He did?”

“Yes. The man’s crazy about you.” Emily sounded sincere.

Cassandra’s stomach tightened. She was going to be sick. She took a breath. “It’ll never work.”

“Why would you say that?”

Because I’ve been there before. With Eric. “We’re too different. Troy doesn’t want someone like me. He wants me to be…”

“To be what?”

Cassandra stared at the seeds on the cucumber. “To be like you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Though I can’t imagine why he’d want that.”

“You’re everything I’m not,” Cassandra said finally. “You dress stylishly, have a trendy hairdo, know the right things to say and when to say them. You don’t stick out like a cast member of a freak show.”

“I’m boring and stuffy. A little anal, too. Someone once called me a snob. Can you imagine?” Emily sighed. “You’re like a butterfly or a breath of fresh air. You always have been. When we were growing up, you didn’t notice or care how beautiful you were. Or still are. And when you stopped rebelling and started behaving after the kidnapping attempt…I couldn’t compete. You were still you, but you were edging in on who I was. I hated that. I hated you.”

Cassandra noticed the past tense of the verb. She removed the cucumbers from her eyes. “Emily—”

“We’re grown-ups now,” Emily said. “Time to put our petty jealousies and competitiveness behind us.”

Could it be so easy? “But Eric—”

“Look, we can discuss this until we’re blue in the face, but it won’t change what happened. We can’t change the past. Agreed?”

Unsure of what to say, Cassandra hesitated. “It’s not that easy for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I saw you.”

“Saw me? Where?”

Cassandra took a breath. And another. “With Eric. In my bed. Three weeks before our wedding.”

Emily’s face paled. She took two steps back. “Who else knows?”

“Troy.”

“Mom and Dad?”

“Not yet.” That might have been mean of Cassandra to say, but she was only human. She needed to explain a few things to her parents so they understood what they were doing to her each time they tried to push her and Emily together. “I can understand Eric’s motivation, but what was yours?”

Cassandra had been wanting to ask that question, even if hearing the answer would hurt. But honestly, what more damage could they do between them?

Emily seemed to fade and grow smaller. “I wanted to get revenge.”

“Why?”

“I’ve always wanted what you had. Eric was my chance to do both—get revenge and have something of yours. I never expected to fall in love with him.”

“Just have sex?”

Emily lifted her chin. “Yes. I’m sorry we hurt you.”

“It wasn’t just Eric. That hurt, but I was devastated by what you’d done. We were never close, but I never expected my twin…” Cassandra’s throat clogged with emotion. “And then to have you keep rubbing it in my face.”

Emily’s hands trembled. “Asking you to be my maid of honor was not my proudest moment, but Mom and Dad would have thought it odd if I hadn’t.”

“So you thought forcing me to suck it up rather than admit the truth was better?” Cassandra couldn’t keep the hard edge from her voice.

“I was only concerned about myself. I never thought about what it would be like for you.”

Typical Emily.

Cassandra felt numb, but she did want to know one more thing. “Are you happy with Eric?”

“Yes, more than I imagined, but I’m not stupid. He cheated on you, and he might do the same to me. I have an ironclad prenup. He also knows if he screws around, I will kick him to the curb, and that means he’ll lose his job with Dad.”

“Smart thinking.”

“It’s not easy when the heart’s involved.”

So true.

“I kept all the marriage counselor cards you gave us,” Emily added. “Just in case.”

Cassandra wished she had a pithy reply, but she didn’t. “I hope you don’t need them.”

“Me, too.” Emily studied her. “Do you love Troy?”

“More than I thought possible.” Saying the words aloud to someone brought such a release. Even if that someone was Emily. “But I don’t want the same things he wants. I can’t be the kind of woman he wants me to be.”

“Then don’t. Be who you are,” Emily said.

Cassandra hadn’t been enough for Eric. She wouldn’t be enough for Troy. He would never accept her as she was. “Who I am isn’t good enough.”

“Then screw Troy McKnight. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Emily, really,” Cassandra said, shocked by her usually prim and proper sister.

Emily smiled. “You sounded just like Mom when you said that.”

“I know.”

They laughed.

“Your eyes are looking better.” Emily took the damp rag off Cassandra’s forehead. “Now let’s get busy. By the time I’m finished, Troy will take one look at you and either fall to his knees or run to the nearest exit.”

For a moment, Cassandra had forgotten about the party. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because we’re sisters and it’s about time we started acting like it. I expect repairing the damage I’ve done will take time, years even, but I’m patient.” Emily picked up the straightener. “Ready to do something with your hair?”

Cassandra would need time. How long? She had no idea, but hair was a good first step. “Sure. Work your magic.”

♥ ♥ ♥

Troy paced the foyer of the Pacific Heights mansion, his steps sounding loud on the marble-tiled floor. The house could be rented out for events, but he couldn’t enjoy the elegant surroundings. His collar seemed to be shrinking by the second.

Cassie was late. Not that promptness was one of her priorities. Still, her not being here worried him.

Was she coming to the party?

Or not?

He wanted her to come. He needed her to come.

If she didn’t…

The massive stained-glass door opened. A man and woman stepped inside.

Where was Cassie? The partners from his firm were in the ballroom, drinking the expensive liquor and eating the delicious smelling hors d’oeuvres. So were half the other guests.

The door opened again.

Let it be her.

And it was.

As Cassie stepped inside, Troy sucked in a breath. No long necklaces with dangling pendants, no broomstick skirts, no boots.

Two thin straps held up the ice-blue material that floated above her knees as she moved. Elegant, but slightly daring with a slit at the side. The dress showed off her curves in a subtle, intriguing way. She wore a strand of pearls.

She’d dressed this way for him.

A vise tightened around his heart. Troy didn’t deserve her. He didn’t need her to dress and play a part. The clothes and accessories didn’t change who she was.

Cassie Daniels was perfect as she was. That was the woman he loved, not the one who’d come to the party.

For him.

He exhaled. “You’re here.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

Always late, that was his Cassie. “It was worth it. You look…incredible, stunning.”

“Thank you.” She wore her hair up, curly tendrils framing her rosy cheeks. A single pearl graced each earlobe. She laughed. “Nice tie.”

She’d called him rigid, a stick-in-the-mud, and other things. Well, maybe he was. But he wanted to show her he could be spontaneous. On his way to the party, he’d stopped and purchased a Mickey Mouse tie. That was the least he could do to thank her for showing up. Troy smiled.

Now was the time to tell her. He put his hands on her shoulder. That was when he noticed the cutouts on the back of her dress and the asymmetric hem. The front looked conservative. The back was not conventional by any means. She managed to pull off both looks, and doing so was compromising without giving up who she was. That filled him with hope that they could work things out.

His gaze met hers. “Listen, Cassie, I’ve got to tell you—”

The door opened again. Dixon and Vanessa entered, followed by…

Every muscle in Troy’s body tensed. What were his parents doing here? “Mom. Dad.”

His father laughed. “Our eldest child is having an engagement party, and he’s surprised we’re here. Kids.”

His mother kissed Troy’s cheek. “Dixon invited us and sent us airplane tickets. Why didn’t you tell us you were engaged?”

“I’ve been meaning to, but things have been rather…hectic.”

“I would say that’s an understatement.” His mother smiled. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your fiancée?”

“Mom, Dad, this is Cassandra Daniels.” Troy forced the words from his dry throat. “Cassie, these are my parents, Paula and Bill McKnight.”

Troy caught a moment of panic in Cassie’s eyes, but she recovered quickly. Smiling, she extended her hand. “It’s w-w-wonderful you could come. Troy has told me so much about you and the farm.”

His beaming father hugged her. “Welcome to the family, Cassie. You’ll have to come for a visit and see the farm for yourself. It’s a wonderful place to raise a family.”

“Don’t be so subtle, Bill.” Paula gave Cassie a hug. “We are so happy to meet you.”

Dixon stepped up. “Before we join the rest of the guests, this might be a good time to give the kids your surprise, Paula.”

She removed a small black box from her purse and handed it to Troy. “Your father and I thought you might want this.”

Troy opened the box. A diamond solitaire gleamed against the black velvet. His grandmother’s engagement ring.

His chest tightened. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Cassie’s mouth formed an O. “It’s…it’s beautiful.”

“This ring belonged to my mother, Troy’s grandma. She wore it for sixty-six years,” his father explained. “Put it on Cassie’s finger, son.”

Not now.

Not this way.

Not when the ring wouldn’t mean anything.

“What are you waiting for, son?” his dad asked.

Troy stared into Cassie’s startled eyes. He gave her trembling hand a gentle squeeze. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. As he slid the ring onto her finger, she tensed. Her eyes glistened, and she blinked.

“Does the ring fit?” Vanessa and his mother asked at the same time.

Cassie showed the ring to the curious mothers. “Yes.”

“Fantastic.” Dixon patted Troy’s shoulder. “Let’s go inside. Everyone’s waiting to congratulate the happy couple. And I bet Cassie wants to show off her ring.”

“And her amazing dress,” Vanessa said. “Lovely choice, sweetie.”

The next two hours passed quickly. Everything Troy had dreamed about was happening.

“Congratulations on your engagement.” Brett Matthews, who ran the Matthews Investment Group in Portland, Oregon, shook Troy’s hand. The guy was self-made—a financial guru and an angel investor. Not to mention one of Troy’s role models. “You didn’t mention a girlfriend the last time I saw you, let alone a fiancée.”

“Things happened fast.” Not a lie.

“She’s beautiful.”

Thinking about Cassie filled his stomach with flutters. “Yes, she is.”

“You have it bad.” Laughter filled Brett’s gaze.

“I guess I do.”

“No guessing about it, but there’s nothing wrong with that.” Brett’s tone was sincere. “You’re lucky you found her.”

Except she’d found Troy that night at the bar. Imagine if he’d said no to pretending to be her fiancé for the night. He couldn’t.

“I am.” He didn’t want to say much more about the two of them. “Anyone special in your life?”

“No, but I’m too busy for a relationship.” Brett didn’t seem bothered by that, though neither had Troy until meeting Cassie. “I’m working on a book, so that’s been taking up what little free time I have.”

A book? Troy straightened. “Non-fiction?”

Brett nodded. “Personal investing.”

“Cassie owns a bookstore here in the city.” The words rushed from Troy’s mouth before he lost his nerve, but he’d do anything to help her succeed. “If you want to do a book signing there…”

“I’d be happy to.” Brett removed a business card from his pocket and then handed it to Troy. “You have my contact info, but give this to your fiancée so she has it, too.”

He couldn’t wait to give the card to Cassie, so she could make the necessary plans. “Thanks.”

After leaving Brett, Troy worked the room with Dixon at his side and spoke with the inner circle of Silicon Valley venture capitalists and CEOs. Even the partners from Troy’s firm seemed a tad overwhelmed by the well-wishers like Brett Matthews at the party. Troy couldn’t ask for anything more. A complete success. A perfect evening. Except…

For the misery in Cassie’s eyes.

Staring at the fresco painted on the ceiling, she stood next to his parents. This wasn’t working. Cassie had done her part. She’d done so without sacrificing who she truly was even, but she clearly hated every minute. And if the way she kept the engagement ring hidden from sight meant anything…

Troy made his way through the crowd and touched her arm. “We need to talk.”

Cassie nodded and led him into the cloakroom. The heavy wooden door dulled the music and the conversation in the ballroom.

“I wanted to talk to you, too,” she said. “I’m sorry for how I acted, overreacted, this morning. It was easier for me to believe you’d use me than to think you wouldn’t.”

It was going to work. “I should have told you what was going on. I’m sorry.”

She stared at the parquet floor. “Looks like the party is working out the way you wanted.”

For me, but what about you?

“Everything you want is waiting for you in the ballroom.”

“Not everything.” This was his chance. “I want you.”

Cassie bit her lip. “I want you, too.”

Her words sent his heart soaring. He put his arms around her and kissed her. She tasted so sweet, so warm. And she was his, all his.

Gently, she pushed him away. “I want you, but I can’t be with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This isn’t an easy thing to say, but I can’t live your kind of life.”

“We’ll compromise.”

“I—”

“You said you wanted me.” The words rushed out of his mouth. “What about love?”

“Love doesn’t change the fact we have different goals. You want to network at parties like this. You want to make millions of dollars. You want power and prestige. I don’t.”

“What do you want me to do? Give everything up?”

Troy McKnight was the hottest property around. He’d made the right contacts—impressed and awed them. He was a shoo-in for a partnership. His dream was waiting for him. He could taste it. He couldn’t stop now. Could he?

No.

He shouldn’t feel guilty for that. He was on the verge of getting everything he’d ever wanted. Everything he’d planned for.

“Of course not,” she said finally.

“Thank you.”

She removed the engagement ring from her finger. “I’m not asking you to make a choice.”

Troy pulled back his hand. The ring belonged to her. “I love you.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough. This is one of those times. You need a woman who shares your dreams, who wants the same things as you. A woman who can make you happy. I’m not her.”

He loved Cassie.

He needed her.

He wanted to marry her.

“Yes, you are. You are her.”

She forced the ring into his hand. “No, I’m not.”

“It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. We can work through this.”

“I’m sorry, Troy.”

He wasn’t about to give up without a fight. “Successful relationships are about compromise. Let’s at least try. Please, meet me halfway.”

“I came tonight. I compromised by wearing this dress. But anything else, I…can’t.”

His chest ached. He wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. He should stop her from leaving, but he couldn’t move. Not his arms or his legs.

Cassie walked out. The door closed behind her.

Standing alone in the cloakroom, he stared at the ring in his hand. The diamond seemed duller now that it wasn’t on Cassie’s finger.

No stars to wish upon, no words left to say. A precious gift had been ripped out of his hands, and Troy was at a loss about how to get it back. He remembered what the old man had told him. “Never forget where your home is.”

What happened when “home” didn’t want you?