How Cassie Got Her Grind Back (48 page)

Cassie nodded, that bittersweetness tugging at her heart again. “I can’t regret those years because they brought me Joseph and Tamara, but I’m excited to see what the next thirty or forty years hold for us. Together.” She kissed them both and let them lead her to the feast among the friends she loved.

Late spring…

Samson’s heart was so full his chest expanded with love and pride for Cassie as she walked to the microphone under the twinkling lights. Her performance marked the grand opening of Rudy’s new outdoor patio and party room.

Her cheeks were rosy as she eased onto the stool and did some final adjustments to her instrument and the microphone.

He and Ivan stood off to the side while Joseph and Tamara, who had come home from school for the weekend, took seats at one of the front tables. His mom and dad were in the audience, and many friends and even some of her family members filled the tables. Latecomers were willing to stand in the back.

Her Uncle Rudy joined her at the microphone and raised his hands for the audience’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the grand re-opening of Rudy’s. I hope you all enjoyed being able to find a parking space in our newly enlarged parking lot.”

The crowd chuckled, and many heads nodded. As part of his expansion, Rudy had purchased an adjacent lot when it had come up for sale and had paved part of it so his customers no longer had to park on the street or in the exceedingly narrow lot out front.

“Please join me in welcoming to the stage,” he continued as he turned to Cassie and squeezed her shoulder, “someone who is like a daughter to me. Many of you may recognize Cassie Cutter, the owner of Divine Drip, which is currently under reconstruction and expansion after a devastating fire in January. I hope when she reopens in mid-summer you’ll be sure to stop by and have a cup of coffee or explore her expanded menu. What many of you may not know is that she’s also a vastly talented musician, singer, and songwriter. Please welcome Cassie.”

Cheers and applause erupted as Rudy hugged Cassie and kissed her cheek before skirting the crowd to come and stand with Samson and Ivan.

Samson and Ivan both shook his hand when he offered it, and Rudy leaned close so they could hear him. “I meant that. She truly is like a daughter to me, and anything—absolutely anything—I can do to help her I’ll gladly do.”

Cassie scanned the crowd and then smiled at her uncle. “Thank you all. Rudy was correct. He’s like a dad to me, and I thank him for this opportunity to share with you tonight.”

She plucked the strings and tapped out the beat to the first song and began to sing. Her eyes were closed as she sang the first verse of one of his favorite songs she’d written. The crowd was quickly drawn in, just as he knew they would be, and they broke into applause as she finished.

Off to the side, he overheard someone say, “I’ve never heard that song before. Have you?”

Her companion said, “No, but I’ll bet we hear it on the radio someday.”

Samson glanced at Ivan and knew by the big grin on his face that he’d heard them, too.

Another guest in the crowd said, rather loudly, “I hope she plans to record that.”

Presley Ann kept craning her neck, and when she spotted them, she excused herself from her table and came over with her cell phone. During the break between songs, she drew close and whispered, “Rudy said she’s a songwriter. Does she have many that she’s written?”

“A whole slew of them,” Ivan answered just as quietly.

She grinned. “I have a couple of acquaintances who would love what she’s writing and might be interested in having her write some songs for them. Did she plan to go into the studio herself?”

He’d expected that question, but not so quickly, and gave the reply she’d already given when they’d discussed recording with her. “Cassie is more interested in writing, for now. She’s got her hands pretty full these days.”

Presley Ann grinned, and a twinkle came into her eyes. “I’ll bet. Do you mind if I record some video on my phone so they can give a listen?”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks, guys. I have a great feeling about this.”

She’d already slipped back through the crowd before Samson thought to ask her who it was she wanted to listen to the songs. He shrugged, thinking if it panned out he’d know eventually.

Rudy said, “Excuse me, gentlemen. I need to go check the bar.”

Samson nodded and paid attention as Cassie’s fingertips flew over the strings in the opening notes of the next song. She swayed with the music, keeping the beat with a tapping foot and her inner metronome. He glanced out at the audience as she eased into the first chorus. Many of them smiled and nodded with the beat. One of her aunts had tears running down her cheeks as she swayed with the music, pride for her niece obvious in her eyes.

Ivan nudged him and pointed at the rear of the crowd. Samson frowned when he spotted Bill Resendez coming down the steps to the patio. Before he could react, Rudy was already stopping him. Rudy held up an index finger to Bill, and his body language was making it clear Bill was welcome only so long as he behaved himself.

Bill held up his hands in surrender, nodded, and then stepped to the side, evidently content to stand in the back of the crowd that was now standing room only. Disgruntled that he’d been sidetracked from Cassie’s performance, Samson gave her all his attention, grateful Rudy was on the ball.

She shared the song with her audience, but it was obvious she was caught up in the words, her gaze on some point in the past. There was silence for a beat as the last note resounded. Then everyone was out of their chairs, clapping. Cassie’s friends, including Grace, Leah, Violet, and Bunny were all whistling. Kendry, one of Presley Ann’s men, kissed his wife’s cheek and swiped her tears as she held her camera up, still shooting video.

Bill stood in the shadows, his arms crossed over his chest. Samson couldn’t understand why he’d come that night. Maybe he’d planned to heckle, maybe he was curious. Maybe he’d come expecting her to flop. But right in that moment, Samson hoped he was internalizing the lyrics of her song. Judging by the furrowed brow and frown on his face, he knew she was singing about getting free not just from some metaphorical cage she’d been kept in. She was free from him and her father.

Jorge Villalobos had been admitted permanently to a nursing home, his mental state having decayed rapidly since the fire. His rage and hatred preyed on his own mind until he was impossible to be around. After the last time Cassie had come home in tears from visiting him, Samson, Ivan, Delicia, and the kids had intervened, and now Cassie visited him only in the company of at least one of them.

Samson admired her for continuing to visit but knew it weighed on her, which was why she’d been spending more time with Rudy, finding in him a positive father figure she regretted not depending on more while she was younger.

The evidence in the fire pointed to Jorge from the get-go, and Cassie wasn’t held responsible in any way. The claim had been paid by the insurance company, and Ivan and Joseph were eating up the challenge of recreating Divine Drip, quite literally, from the ashes.

She was midway through the last song in her first set when Rudy came forward with a tall glass of iced tea. She smiled and nodded her thanks. Over the applause, she told the crowd she was taking a short break. She headed in Samson and Ivan’s direction, but the crowd swarmed her.

“I knew it,” Ivan said, a big sappy grin splitting his face. “They loved it. They love her.”

“Many of them already loved her. They’ve just discovered something new to love about her. Think we should rescue her?”

“Yep. She needs time to rehydrate and catch her breath.”

They waded into the crowd, apologizing to her new fans, family, and friends as they bracketed her and drew her out to a small tiled patio, which was secluded from the rest of the seating area.

She was flushed, a little shaky, and drenched in perspiration. She was also positively jubilant. For the first few minutes, she let them hold her while she processed the excitement. The crowd beyond the fence didn’t sound as though it’d diminished at all as he finally said, “Did you see Bill in the crowd?”

“He was
here
?” she replied, her eyes wide. “I never saw him.”

“He stayed in the shadows,” Ivan said. “And slipped out when your aunt spotted him and made a beeline for him, looking as though she wanted to hit him with her purse.”

She giggled and then let out a long breath. “Wow. Why would he come? Even before the three of us tied the knot, I told that pot-stirring
pendejo
I knew he’d lied to my father about your father and my mother having an affair because he wanted you two out of his way. I’m still mad at myself for falling for his act. Master manipulator motherfucker.”

“Such language,” Ivan murmured. “Are you planning to kiss us with that potty mouth?”

She glanced up at them and then started giggling since she so rarely ever used such language. Samson was grateful for the tension breaker as they both laughed along with her.

As it had turned out, Bill had been responsible for many of the punishments Cassie had been subjected to because she’d had contact with the two of them after her father had forbidden it. Bill had more or less bartered serving as an informant for the privilege of having her father keep her close to home and under control until he’d come back home from college. To show his thanks for toeing the line, her father had encouraged his relentless pursuit of her. Her dreams of attending a performing arts college had never been taken seriously by either of them.

“Knock, knock,” Rudy said quietly as he peeked around the wooden privacy gate. “Cassie, it’s nearly time. I have a few requests for encore performances of one or two of your songs,” he said mildly, handing her the scraps of paper. “They love your music,
mi hija
! I’m so very proud of you.”

As they escorted her through the gate, she looked a little overwhelmed but enjoying the moment. Presley Ann was waiting for them on the other side, practically dancing on tiptoes. “I private messaged the video to my friends. They’d love to meet with you when it’s convenient for you.”

Cassie’s eyes rounded, and she looked around the crowd. “Are
they
here?”

“No, they’re in Nashville right now, but they’ll be visiting soon, I’m sure. They
really
want to talk to you, honey!” she squealed and then hugged Cassie.

Ivan glanced at Samson, uncertainty in his voice. “Nashville?”

Presley Ann hugged her again, and then Cassie turned to them. “I hear worry. There’s nothing to worry about. Yeah, I’d love to write songs for…Presley Ann’s friends. That would be freaking awesome. But do I want all the other stuff? Not so much. This is totally cool tonight, but I would rather be on the creative end of things and let someone else deal with the attention and clamor. That’s not me.”

Relieved to his core, Samson tipped her chin up and kissed her. “We’d deal with anything for a chance to watch you grasp your dreams.”

Ivan nodded, looking as though he was trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “Yup. We would. I’d love to watch that happen.”

Cassie sighed and took both of their hands in hers. “You dunces. My dream is already in my hands, right now. This…” she said while gesturing to the crowd. “This is just the icing on the cake.”

THE END

WWW.HEATHERRAINIER.COM

I live in South Central Texas, writing the type of novel I love to read: more erotic and edgy than the mainstream, with plenty of sweet romance mixed in. My love of romantic fiction began as a teenager when my mom gave me copies of Kathleen Woodiwiss’s “The Flame and the Flower” and Bertrice Small’s “Skye O'Malley.” To this day I'm pretty sure that was her idea of the “birds and the bees” talk.

My husband and I met in a scenario very much like the ones I’ve written about. He was the alpha hero who stepped in when this “damsel in distress” needed rescuing from a nefarious pervert. It’s no wonder I went on to write erotic romance when I had him to inspire me.

When not pounding on my keyboard, I'm usually busy corralling my kids or loving on my smokin’ hot husband, who thankfully loves to cook.

For all titles by Heather Rainier, please visit

www.bookstrand.com/heather-rainer

Divine Grace

Grace (Stuart) Warner
is a published author
. Jack Warner
is a building contractor.
Ethan Grant
co-owns The Dancing Pony nightclub.
Adam Davis
is an HVAC and electrical contractor. The men are distant cousins and owners of the Divine Creek Ranch. They have a daughter, Rose Marie and a son, Grant Jason.

Her Gentle Giant (Part One & Two)

Rachel (Lopez) Wolf
does the books for Discretion and is a stay-at-home mom and a published author.
Eli Wolf
was one of the bouncers at The Dancing Pony and is now an EMT. They have one son, Levi.