Authors: Edie Ramer
Tricia’s forehead creased. “Don’t do what?”
“Don’t make yourself smaller in any way.” Hanging onto the suitcase handle, Cassie planted herself in front of Tricia. If one good thing came out of this, she hadn’t wasted her time. “You’re tall. Claim it. Be proud of what you are.”
“Oh my God.” Tricia straightened her spine. “You’re right! I am making myself small. From now on I’m standing tall. I’m so sorry you’re leaving. It doesn’t feel right.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Erin’s going to miss you.” Tears glinted in Tricia’s greenish-blue eyes. “I wish she liked me half as much as she likes you. I’ve been working for Luke for over five weeks, and I still haven’t won her over.” She sniffed. “How did you do it? Get her to love you?”
“She doesn’t
love
me.” Cassie backed up. Goose bumps crept across her skin at the thought of someone—anyone—loving her. She jiggled the handle. “This is getting heavy. I have to go.”
Tricia’s tears evaporated. “You’re really leaving? You’re not going to Luke’s house and asking him to reconsider?”
“No! Why would you think that?”
Tricia tilted her head and peered at Cassie through a row of spiky eyelashes. “I thought I caught a spark between the two of you.”
“Sparks don’t always start a fire.” Cassie stepped forward to pass Tricia, but Tricia reached out and hugged her.
“I really, really like you,” Tricia said, her breath hot on Cassie’s ear.
“I like you too.” Cassie wiggled out of Tricia’s strong hold.
But not that much.
“I hope you have a fabulous life.” With a wave, Tricia turned and then skipped toward the office.
“She wants the songwriter.” Joe nodded at Tricia’s slender back.
Cassie shrugged. No surprise there. Brooding alpha guys with more animal magnetism than charm were magnets to blonde cheerleader types. And who was she to talk about Tricia? It wasn’t as if she were immune to Luke’s appeal. It had slammed into her and knocked her on her cushioned heinie.
“Something wrong?” Joe floated in front of her.
She gave him the fake smile she usually reserved for her clients. “I wondered if I forgot my deodorant.”
He shook his head. “You women. Did you?”
“I have everything.” She stepped forward, but he didn’t move out of her way. Another step and she’d walk right through him. It didn’t hurt. Just a quick freeze and it was done. But it was too...personal. Too intimate.
She gazed at him, raising her eyebrows in a question mark. What was up? Normally he respected her space.
He gestured at her rental. “You have a passenger.”
“Huh?” Her gaze flew to the car, but she didn’t see anyone.
“The backseat.” He gestured. She walked through his arm, the coldness leaving her chilled but unflinching.
Since Joe wasn’t shouting at her to run back to the motel room and call 911, her stowaway couldn’t be dangerous.
She opened the car door and peered down at the small figure hunkered on the floor behind the driver’s seat. Erin. Scrunched down, folded in half with her knees against her chest, her arms gripping her legs, her head hanging over her knees.
Sadness clogged Cassie’s throat. She knelt and placed her hand on Erin’s shoulder, feeling the small bones under her palm.
“Erin, are you all right?”
Erin’s head lifted, her thin body trembling, her eyes pleading. Cassie’s hand clenched as she read the message in them:
Love me, love me, love me.
“Take me with you.”
“You have to go home.” Cassie tried hardening her heart, but the contrary organ softened like chocolate left out in the sun.
“He’s mean. I hate him. He took me away from my mom.”
Cassie removed her hand and straightened. “He cares about you. He moved here because of you, didn’t he?”
Erin scrambled onto the back seat, perched on the edge, then leaned toward Cassie. “He moved here because he doesn’t want me to see my mom. He doesn’t want me to be happy. He won’t even let me talk to her on the phone or email me. Take me back to my mom, please, please, please.”
In spite of the desperation sharpening Erin’s face, she didn’t cry.
Just like me at ten. Only no one listened to me.
Cassie dug her phone out of her purse. “I won’t take you back to your mom, but I’ll call her.”
Erin bit her lower lip.
“What’s her phone number?”
“It’s early in California.” Erin scratched her leg through her purple slacks. “I tried calling from my dad’s phone this morning, but she didn’t answer. She’s probably sleeping. She doesn’t like it when the phone wakes her up.”
“She won’t mind when she finds out it’s you.”
Erin scratched her leg again and gave her the numbers. Cassie tapped them in, then listened to the phone ring. Instead of bouncing up and down in excitement, Erin put the tip of her index finger in her mouth and chewed, her gaze fixed on Cassie’s face.
On the fifth ring, the phone picked up. “Who is this?” a woman slurred.
“Vanessa Desidero? I’m a friend of your daughter’s. She’s right here. Would you—”
“Are you a fuckin’ reporter? Do you think my brains are so fried I’ll fall for this? You’re tryin’ to get me put in jail. You know where to put your lyin’ phone.”
“Vanessa, if you’ll—”
The phone slammed in Cassie’s ear and she grimaced
.
She looked at Erin’s tense face and shook her head. The spark of hope in Erin’s eyes flickered out.
“I’m sorry, she hung up on me.”
“Did she yell at you?” Erin asked, her voice small. “Was she...high?”
Cassie hesitated then nodded. Vanessa Desidero was more than a bitch, much more. At ten years old, Erin shouldn’t know what “high” meant.
“It’s my fault.” Erin’s lower lip trembled. “I should be there taking care of her.”
“It’s not your fault. Your mother is the adult, you’re the child.”
“You don’t understand.” Erin pulled in her shoulders, as if trying to disappear. “Don’t take me back to my dad.
Please
. My mom needs me.” She reached her hand out, her gaze on the phone curled inside Cassie’s fingers. “Let me call her. She’ll talk to me.”
“I have to take you home. I’ll talk to your dad and tell him how you feel.” Like he’d listen, but the sadness in Erin’s eyes urged her on to bigger promises. “I’ll make him understand, okay?”
Erin’s arm dropped. Her lower lip trembled. “If you don’t let me call my mom, I’ll hate you too.”
“Honey—”
“I’m not your honey! I hate you! I hate you!”
“Stop it!” Joe demanded in his rich tenor.
Cassie whipped her gaze to the front seat. Joe loomed at them from the passenger seat.
Erin gasped, her eyes wide. “I know who you are.” She pointed at him, her arm wavering. “You’re a ghost like the other one.”
“Not like the other one at all.” Joe sounded aggrieved. “First, I’m a man. Second, I’m tall, handsome and nice. Aren’t I, Cassie?”
“Of course.” She refrained from rolling her eyes. “Can’t you see how handsome he is?”
“And the other ghost is meaner than me and...not handsome.” He grinned, aiming more charm at Erin than a live man should have, much less a dead one. “Gentlemen don’t comment on a lady’s looks, so my mouth is zipped.”
“Wow.” Erin’s eyes widened more. She gave Cassie an is-he-real? look.
Cassie nodded.
Yep, he’s real.
Erin turned back to Joe, her eyes narrowing. “You sure you’re dead?”
Joe chuckled, his face crinkling with pleasure. A small smile replaced the suspicion on Erin’s face.
The tension eased out of Cassie’s tightly wound muscles.
Erin, honey, you’ve been charmed.
“I like you. Will you tell her to take me to my mom?” Erin jabbed her thumb toward Cassie, never taking her gaze from Joe’s face with its irregular features and a smile that would reel in a tougher fish than a small, scared girl.
His smile flattened. “Do you know what will happen to Cassie if she does that?”
Cassie winced. Erin already took too much blame on her thin shoulders. She didn’t need this added to the load. Especially coming from a man for whom she’d obviously developed an instant crush.
“Don’t, Joe.”
He gestured at her to stay out of it, his attention focused on Erin’s paling face. “Taking you across state lines is a federal crime. She’ll be arrested. Is that what you want?”
“Stop it!” Cassie lifted her hand to grab Joe’s shoulder and shake it. A half inch away, cold radiated toward her palm and she yanked her arm back. “You have no right to talk to her like that. Adults are kicking her around like a football, and she’s doing the best she can. Nothing is her fault. Do you understand? Nothing.”
“Don’t yell at him.” Erin kicked the back of the driver’s seat. “Just take me back to my dad.” Tears sparkled in her eyes and she turned her head sideways, staring out the window.
Cassie glared at Joe. He swiveled then slid into the passenger seat and peered out the windshield. His lips pursed, he whistled a boogie tune she’d never heard.
Her movements choppy, Cassie stowed her suitcases in the trunk, then closed it and slid into the driver’s seat. A moment later, she backed out of the parking spot.
Men.
As far as she was concerned, they were
unwanted—dead or alive.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“It’s just a spark plug wire.” The kid from the car repair place lifted his head from beneath the SUV hood and gave Luke a pitying look, as though Luke was a lesser man because he didn’t know anything about the innards of a car.
“Fix it,” Luke commanded. At least the kid was honest. He could’ve towed the car and taken him for a few hundred bucks.
A sound caught his ear, a car engine. He wheeled around. Behind him the kid was talking about a song he’d written with his band that consisted of three guitar players and one drummer, but his voice became background noise. Luke concentrated on watching the beige sedan drive down the tree-lined lane.
Was that a smaller head behind Cassie’s...? He angled his head. The car drove closer, and he recognized the blonde hair. The fear whooshed out of him. He closed his eyes for a second and sent a silent thank you to a God he didn’t believe in.
He hiked to the other side of the driveway. The kid’s voice faded and Luke felt his curious stare. Cassie braked the car in front of Luke, and he pulled the door open. Erin jumped out of the back seat.
He reached out to gather her to his chest, but her glare stopped him, making him draw back as Cassie slid out of the driver’s seat.
“It’s okay, Erin, your dad’s happy to see you.” Cassie curved her hand over Erin’s shoulder. The look she gave him smoldered with unspoken threats.
Luke bent down until his gaze was level with Erin’s. “Erin, I’m new to being a dad. I’m still learning. I’m going to make mistakes. We both are. But don’t leave every time it happens. I’m just going to come after you. I’m not letting you go.”
She stared at him with as much expression as a wall. A tide of panic surged up inside him. Had he screwed up their relationship forever? Dammit, no! There had to be a way to gain her trust. He was her father, for Christ sake.
“Let’s make a deal. You and your mother can still email each other, but I’ll monitor your emails.”
The tight line of her mouth wobbled.
“He’s trying,” Cassie murmured, bending, her mouth inches from Erin’s flyaway hair. “It’s a compromise. Tell him what you’re thinking.”
“Right.” He fought to keep his voice soft. “Tell me what you want?”
“I want you to apologize.”
He looked into her blue eyes, the same clear color as his. “I thought that’s what I just did. I’m sorry, Erin.”
She gave a hefty-sized sigh. “Not me.” She pointed at Cassie. “You fired Cassie. Apologize to her.”
He stood and faced her. Cassie grinned, enjoying this too much.
“I’m sorry.” Even as he said the words, he knew it wasn’t enough. “I want you to come back.”
Erin’s face lit up and she gave the first happy squeal he’d heard from her. His heart pounded a funky hip hop tune.
Cassie put her hand on her nicely rounded hips, the move commanding his attention. “How do I know you won’t do the same thing again?”
Women. Why couldn’t they accept apologies like men? “I try not to make the same mistake twice. Will you—” He stopped himself from saying “stay for Erin’s sake.” That wasn’t the right way to do this. It was between Cassie and him, not Erin. “Will you stay?”
Her lips pressed together.
Erin grasped Cassie’s hand. “Please, come back. Please.”
Luke saw the “Oh shit” look in Cassie’s face. He didn’t blame her. She had pride, and he’d bruised it.
“Erin, don’t pressure Cassie. She’ll make the decision without emotional blackmail.”
Erin sucked her breath in, her face paling.
He felt as though an iron fist struck him in the gut. What the hell was wrong with him? If there were a “Dad Fuck Up of the Decade” award, he’d win the gold.