Hell for the Holidays by K Simpson

Author:K Simpson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, pdf
ISBN: 9780971815094
Publisher: Fortitude Press
Published: 2002-12-15T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

He was nothing to look at, really-so ordinary that I probably couldn’t have picked him out of a police lineup unless he was on fire. Everything about him was vanilla, from the thinning no-color hair to the buttoned-up Oxford shirt he had on with his Levis and sneakers. My guess was insurance agent or wholesale carpet dealer. Not Cassie’s type. Not even close.

But the closer he got to our table, the greater the disturbance in the Force. There was something about his smile I didn’t like. It practically screamed cat and canary, which meant there was something I didn’t know, which meant I was going to hate whatever was about to happen.

“Hello, gorgeous,” the man told her.

Under the table, Cassie kicked me-fairly gently, but not accidentally. “Hi yourself. How are you?”

“Great. Can I?” Without waiting for an answer, he made himself at home in the chair next to her. “Jeez, Cassie, you look great. So what have you been up to?”

To my alarm, she gave him the full treatment: the little tilt of the head, the little half-smile, the batting eyelashes. “Nothing special. Thank you for the wine, Charlie. That was sweet of you.”

“What can I say-I’m a sweet guy.” He smirked at his own cleverness and hitched his chair a little closer. “So what’s going on? You married yet? Or do I still have a chance?”

I cleared my throat significantly. Cassie shot me a silent warning.

“Sorry,” I said. “Sinuses.”

Charlie smiled ingratiatingly and stuck his hand across the table. “Charles Foreman. Old friend of hers. And you are…?”

“Devlin Kerry.” With great reluctance, I accepted the clammy handshake.

“Also a friend of hers. Not quite as old.”

Not knowing how to take that, he let go in a hurry. Cassie, however, knew exactly how to take it and kicked me under the table again. “She’s visiting us for Thanksgiving,” she explained. “Her boyfriend dumped her last week, and she didn’t want to go home this year. You’ll have to excuse her; she gets a little irritable these days.”

My boyfriend? And I got dumped? Shading my eyes with one hand to block his view, I raised an eyebrow at Cassie. Stubbornly, she raised one back.

“Too bad,” Charlie said, too sincerely to mean it. “What about you? Your boyfriend didn’t mind that you didn’t bring him home instead?”

“Oh, no. He’s very special,” Cassie replied. “He goes along with whatever I want. Isn’t that right, Devvy?”

In silence, I contemplated the menu.

Charlie shook his head. “Can’t blame the lucky bastard. I’d sure go along with anything you wanted.”

I felt Cassie’s smirk but refused to look up.

“Isn’t that sweet,” she said.

K. Simpson

43

“I’m not just saying that. If you wanted to, say, go out tonight, I could go along.”

That got my full attention-and so did the arm that he’d just draped over the back of her chair. Mostly unconsciously, I fingered the blade of the bread knife, testing the edge.

“You know what? I’m at a hotel this year. Too much commotion at the folks’

house. So we can be alone.

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