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Authors: Anita Hughes

Market Street (26 page)

BOOK: Market Street
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Cassie’s face softened. “I’ve lived with someone my whole life. I think being alone is exactly what I need. I’m going to find a one bedroom with lots of light and get a cat.”

“Cats aren’t very good company.” Diana shook her head. “They can be quite self-centered. Grant is waiting in my office. I’ll tell him you’ll meet him on the first floor.”

*   *   *

Grant stood
in the swimsuit section, examining fabric. Cassie remembered him as a skinny redhead who held her too tight when they danced. Now his hair was more strawberry blond. He wore a white T-shirt, tight jeans, and leather sandals.

“Cassie Fenton, you still look like you’re twelve years old.” His smile revealed bright white teeth.

“It’s nice to see you.” Cassie blushed. “My mother tells me you’re doing wonderful things for charity.”

“It’s hard when you make so much money so young.” Grant shrugged. “You really have to search for meaning in life. Besides the obvious things, like money, women, and fame.” He laughed. “Why don’t we talk about it over lunch? I have reservations at Emerald.”

Cassie and Grant sat at a table by the window and Grant ordered a Loire Valley Chardonnay.

“If I only drink wine at dinner, I’ll never be able to sample all the fine wines in the world.” He broke a breadstick and dipped it in olive oil. “I try a different region every month, it’s very educational.”

“Tell me about your swimsuit line,” Cassie said politely.

“I was sitting on the beach in Fiji a couple of years ago and I saw these native girls playing in the sand. Here I was, staying in a thousand-dollar-a-day resort, and they probably didn’t have a decent education. I started a foundation to build schools in tropical countries where the natives live on the poverty line.”

“That’s really admirable.” Cassie nodded.

“Swimsuits seemed a natural fit.” Grant sipped his wine. “Plus the perks are great. I pick out the models and I’m present for the fashion shoots. Next week I leave for Antigua.”

Cassie ordered a grilled vegetable plate and moved the food around on her plate. She still didn’t have much of an appetite, and usually nibbled nuts and dried fruit at her desk. She listened to Grant’s plans to get his swimsuits into Fenton’s and Neiman’s and tried to smile enthusiastically.

“I have to go.” She placed her napkin on her plate. “I’m apartment hunting this afternoon.”

Grant put his hand over hers. “Your mother told me about your marriage. I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“You’re very pretty. I just don’t want a serious relationship right now.” He squeezed her hand harder.

“Excuse me,” Cassie spluttered.

“All this money, this freedom, it’s life-changing. I don’t feel like settling down for a while. If you want to come to my place I can show you my latest swimsuit designs. I just want to be up front.” Grant leaned forward, his chest puffing up like a peacock.

“Up front?” Cassie felt like she was choking.

“Expectations.” He put his other hand over hers. “Women your age, a failed marriage, biological clock ticking. I’m sure you’re great in bed, I just wouldn’t want to go there under false pretenses.”

Cassie felt like every nerve in her body was about to snap. She stood up slowly so Grant wouldn’t see her shaking. “I thought this was a business lunch.”

“Your mother called and told me what you’ve been through.” Grant didn’t release her hand. “And she’s right, you’re a looker. I just didn’t want to lead you on.”

“Good-bye, Grant.”

“We haven’t had dessert.” He pushed his chair back.

“I’m sure there are a few swimsuit models in the restaurant, there always are.” Cassie grabbed her purse. “I’ll tell my mother we had a delightful time.”

*   *   *

Cassie stormed
into Diana’s office. “You sent me on a blind date with a soft porn addict and pretended it was a business lunch.”

“Cassie”—her mother stood up from her desk—“Grant is a very motivated young man.”

“Motivated to get models into the sack! How dare you!” Cassie was shaking. “I don’t want to date, and if I did, I’d like to know it was a date ahead of time.”

“I thought it would be less pressure this way.” Diana shrugged. “The men in San Francisco are either married or gay. Internet companies are producing lovely young men who are intelligent and have money.”

“Mother.” Cassie’s face was bright red. “I’m not even divorced. I don’t want a man.”

“I know I didn’t marry again,” Diana said delicately, “but I always had romantic interests. I already had a child. For you, it’s different.”

“I’m thirty-two, I have plenty of time to have a child. It’s too soon to think about dating.” Cassie suddenly felt tired. The half glass of wine she drank made her head throb. She pictured Grant sitting across the table, sniffing his wineglass, and shuddered.

“It’s never too soon to be happy,” her mother replied, inspecting her manicure. “In today’s world you have to go out and look for it. Think of all the people who do Internet dating.”

“If you sign me up for Match.com, I quit,” Cassie threatened.

“I’m sorry Grant wasn’t a gentleman.” Diana tapped her nails on the desk. “But you need to keep your eyes open. You have beautiful skin, Cassie, but it doesn’t stay soft forever.”

“I’m taking the rest of the day off.” Cassie threw open the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

*   *   *

The first
apartment the real estate agent showed Cassie was a studio in the Marina. She had always loved the Marina Green. She imagined taking long walks by the bay, watching boats sail under the Golden Gate Bridge.

“It has a lovely exposure. You said sun is important to you.” The real estate agent lifted the blinds to reveal a sliver of the bay hidden behind taller apartment buildings.

“It’s a little cramped.” Cassie turned around in the living room/bedroom. “I think I’d feel more comfortable up the hill.”

“No one in the Marina worries about earthquakes anymore.” The agent shrugged dismissively. She was a small blond woman with thin ankles and muscled upper arms. “But I’ll show you a couple of places in Cow Hollow.”

Cassie trudged through a one bedroom in Cow Hollow feeling her spirits fall. After she had stormed out of her mother’s office she was more determined to get her own apartment. She pictured herself tossing salads in her kitchen, and eating them in a sun-filled garden. Maybe she would make a friend or two in the building and have potlucks like when she was in college.

The apartments she saw weren’t big enough to have people over and they had that impermanent feel of a rental. The walls were beige and the floors were chipped hardwood. The closets were bare and smelled of mothballs.

“I want something with a little more character.” Cassie sighed. “With a fireplace or a garden.”

“June is a difficult time of year for rentals.” The agent consulted her book. “I have one that will be available in about a week. It has very nice bay windows, not a lot of closet space.”

“I need a view more than clothes.” Cassie smiled. “I’d like to take a look.”

*   *   *

The apartment
was on the second floor of a duplex on Steiner Street. The lobby had velvet wallpaper and big potted palms and there was a gilt mirror on the wall. Cassie climbed the wooden staircase and smelled lasagna and garlic.

“The back apartment is leased by an old couple, but the front apartment is a sublet. If you don’t mind the smell of Italian cooking, it might work. It gets nice light, especially in the evenings.” The real estate agent sorted through her keys and opened the door.

“What beautiful floors!” Cassie exclaimed. The floors were polished maple and the walls were painted pale blue. There was a fireplace in one corner and tall bay windows covered by sheer curtains.

“I think the rugs belong to the tenant.” The agent opened the curtains. “But you could ask him if they can stay with the apartment. The bedroom also gets lovely light and the closet has been converted into an office.” She showed Cassie the next room. “If you stand by the window you can see Coit Tower. There’s a bakery on the corner that bakes delicious croissants.”

“It’s quite spacious.” Cassie surveyed the bedroom. A queen-sized bed stood in the middle of the room flanked by two wood bedside tables. A sketch of the Bay Bridge hung on the wall and a chest of drawers stood in the corner. Cassie peeked in on a windowless bathroom and a small closet with a built-in desk and folding chair.

“The lease has another six months.” The agent trailed Cassie. “But I could probably negotiate something longer.”

Cassie returned to the living room and stood by the window. The street was full of trees and there was a boy zipping up and down the sidewalk on a scooter.

“I like the feel of the neighborhood.” Cassie hesitated. “I’d definitely want a longer lease.”

“I have a meeting.” The agent glanced at her watch. “But I can draw up a lease and present it to the landlord in the morning.”

Cassie sat on the window seat and looked down on the street. The afternoon sun streamed in, creating spidery shafts of light. “Do you mind if I sit here for a few minutes? I’m going to live here alone and I just want to see how it feels.”

“The divorce apartment.” The agent nodded knowingly. “You want to know if the four walls are going to close in on you. I really have to run but you look pretty safe. I’ll leave the key and you can slip it in the mailbox on your way out.” She fiddled with her key chain and handed the key to Cassie.

“Thank you.” Cassie blushed. “I won’t stay long.”

“Don’t worry.” The agent opened the door. “Eventually you’ll love living alone. You can eat whatever you want and leave your makeup on the bathroom sink.”

*   *   *

Cassie reclined
on the window seat looking out at the bay. She saw boats rocking in the distance and the outline of the Marin hills. Two women pushed strollers across the street and an old lady carried a sack of groceries.

The apartment was brutally quiet. She missed the sound of vegetables being sliced on the kitchen counter. She missed hearing the shower running and the dryer tossing Aidan’s socks.

Cassie wondered if she should move to her mother’s Nob Hill penthouse for a while. It was convenient to Fenton’s and she’d never be lonely with Diana to spar with in the evenings. She imagined the parade of suitors that might arrive at the door, picked by Diana for their breeding and prospects, and shuddered.

“Cassie, what are you doing here?”

“James!” She turned to the front door. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” He closed the front door. He was carrying two bags of Chinese takeout and a pile of magazines. “At least until the end of next week. Did you come to say good-bye?”

“My real estate agent showed me the apartment and I just wanted to sit and admire the view.” Cassie jumped up from the window seat. “I had no idea it was yours!”

James put his bags down and walked over to Cassie. “Please stay and have dinner.”

“I can’t.” Cassie blushed. “I have to be…”

“Nowhere.” James put his hand on her wrist. “I have too much for one person to eat. You’re doing me a favor. Without you, I’ll be eating Kung Pao chicken for a week.”

*   *   *

“Now you
see the exciting life of a bachelor.” James ladled wontons into a soup bowl. “I did go a little crazy tonight. I got fortune cookies and ice cream for dessert.”

“I thought you were a foodie.” Cassie ate a forkful of Chinese coleslaw. They sat at a round table in the kitchen. James had covered it with a blue tablecloth and dragged an extra folding chair from the closet.

“I love everything about food,” James admitted, “except cooking it. I have two left thumbs in the kitchen.”

“That explains the McDonald’s addiction,” Cassie joked. She had felt nervous about staying for dinner, but James was so easy to talk to. She felt like a kid hanging out at a friend’s house after school.

“Luckily this neighborhood has some wonderful take-out places. There’s a Russian restaurant on the corner that makes the best borscht with sour cream.” James sprinkled seasoning on his teriyaki noodles. “Are you going to take the apartment?”

“Carter is coming home soon. Alexis will have enough problems without me being around.”

“He still doesn’t want Alexis working at Fenton’s?” James frowned. “Alexis is the department store queen. She has her own fan page on Facebook.”

“He doesn’t know she’s working at Fenton’s.” Cassie laughed. “He’s been on a kangaroo farm for weeks. My mother suggested I move in with her but we’d claw each other’s eyes out.”

“Diana can be a challenge,” James agreed diplomatically. “She’s thrilled with the success of the emporium.”

“I’m happy it’s doing well,” Cassie replied hesitantly. She put her fork down and fiddled with her napkin.

“Does Fenton’s make you happy?” James heaped noodles on Cassie’s plate.

“I feel like a child who begged for a puppy and then wanted to return it,” Cassie admitted. “I love talking with the suppliers and I enjoy being around food, but there’s just something about the clientele.”

“They dress like movie queens and behave like spoiled children at a birthday party?” James grinned.

“I feel so guilty.” Cassie breathed. “In a way Aidan was right. I’m not cut out for San Francisco society. I’m more comfortable around vegetables.”

“You could try something different.”

“I don’t think I’m up for different right now. Maybe I just need to settle in.” Cassie shrugged. She picked at a forkful of chicken.

“You need to do what you love, Cassie.”

“I haven’t been very successful in the love department.” Cassie put her napkin on the table and pushed back her chair. “Dinner was delicious, but I better go.”

“You can’t go before we open our fortune cookies.” James stood up. “You’ll never know what you missed.”

“I don’t have much luck with fortune cookies.” Cassie grimaced. “Mine usually say things like ‘Beware man carrying sticks. He will break your back.’ That’s why I eat Japanese food.”

“I’ll open your fortune and you open mine. If it’s terrible, I’ll throw it away and you’ll never know. Why don’t we eat them in the living room? You carry the cookies and I’ll grab the ice cream,” James suggested, clearing away plates and containers of noodles.

BOOK: Market Street
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