Forgivin' Ain't Forgettin' (13 page)

Before leaving the bedroom, Cassidy took one last glimpse in the mirror, checking the hair she’d upswept to capture a look of elegance. The makeup Lena helped her apply looked great, and she approved of the tips Lena put on her nails.

Despite sore feet, Cassidy rushed down the steps, less than exuberant about going out with Trevor. She merely wanted to get the whole evening over with. She was already sorry she’d agreed to go. As soon as she walked into the living room, those dark eyes of Trevor’s began appraising with quiet intensity. The man was at least six feet away, yet she felt as if he’d put his hands on her in a warm, gentle way. How he did it, she couldn’t imagine.

“Cassidy,” he breathed more than spoke. Pleasure and praise gathered in his eyes.

Cassidy smiled lightly. Although she knew she looked good, it was nice he thought so, too.

Odessa, watching with all the interest she invested in her favorite Court TV show, folded her hands at her chest as if the moment were sacred. “Oh, sweetheart, you look like a princess.”

“Thank you.” Cassidy spoke softly, placed a light kiss on Odessa’s cheek, and turned toward Trevor. Now that he was up on her, she detected his cologne. It had become as familiar as the scent of the body wash that engulfed the bathroom after he showered. She looked him over. He was faultlessly dressed in black leather shoes and a blacker suit. Beneath it he wore a light gray shirt and a gray tie, a color that made his eyes appear more attractively darker, and Cassidy almost forgot she didn’t like him.

Trevor escorted Cassidy to the car, checking her out as much as he could without being obvious. She was arrayed in a short-sleeved straight black dress that squared at her collarbone and circled above her ankles and lightly cuddled her curves. There was a string of silver looping her neck, and a teardrop pearl dangled from the chain. He thought the jewel looked like a tiny ship on a sea of chocolate silk. Before clicking the car lock with the handheld opener, he attempted to catch Cassidy’s attention, but she refused him, her eyes darting somewhere beyond his shoulder. It suddenly struck him that perhaps she was more naturally shy than purposely aloof, and an ache to know more about her dawned deep in his inner man.

He opened the car door, taking pride in his last-minute decision to go to his house and get the Maxima that once belonged to Brenda. As beautifully as Cassidy was dressed this evening, he would have hated to ask her to climb up into his SUV. When she was seated, he leaned in and guided the seat belt around her, moving so deftly there was no time for protest.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes,” was her answer, yet she sat twisting the cord of her black beaded purse, revealing she was not at all comfortable with the proximity of their heads.

Trevor stepped back, then came forward, bringing their heads even closer this time as he welcomed the fragrance of her perfume. “I disagree with your aunt.” Their gazes locked. “You don’t look like a princess.” He retreated and pushed the door, letting it shut with a resounding thud.

Cassidy’s mouth was still open like a doughnut hole as Trevor filled the driver’s seat. Her eyes shot missiles of extreme dislike, and although he didn’t know Cassidy well, he knew that she would have unleashed a storm of remarks if he had not hurried and said, “You look more beautiful than any princess I’ve ever seen.” He retrieved a package from beneath his seat and piloted it toward his passenger.

Her unsteady hand paused in the air before grasping the edge of the gift. She peeled away two layers of pink wrapping, and her gaze met his. “Music,” she said.

“I’ve noticed you keep classical on the radio, and I thought you might like to listen to it during the drive. It’s a peace offering, too. I really am sorry about walking in on you in the bathroom.”

She had a smile in her tone. “You do have a way of suddenly appearing.”

“Maybe I should get a bell like Poopie’s.”

She chuckled, and he smiled with her. As they departed Pomona Street, a blend of wind and string instruments permeated the car’s interior. Cassidy exhaled. “I like this song.”

Trevor liked the long lovely leg smiling up at him through the knee-to-ankle split in Cassidy’s dress. He fought to keep his eyes on the street and off of Cassidy’s sheer nylons.

Moments later, Trevor avoided a pothole, a swift dagger of guilt piercing him where it hurt most—his heart.
What is wrong with me?
he wanted to shout. He shouldn’t be admiring Cassidy’s legs. Brenda’s legs were the only legs he should be thinking of.

“Yo! Coach Monroe!” LaKell Biltmore called. He and several members of Trevor’s team, including Derek, dressed in the new suit, shirt, tie, and shoes Trevor had bought him, rushed toward him as he walked through a sparkling glass door into the hotel lobby. Trevor grinned, feeling especially proud of how mature Derek looked. He introduced the youngsters to Cassidy, and she politely said hello, then excused herself and headed for the ladies’ lounge.

“We ain’t know you had a girlfriend, Coach.” Thirteen-year-old LaKell, slightly taller than Derek’s six-foot figure, elbowed Trevor.

“Yeah,” Derek said, “I thought I knew everything about you.”

Trevor set them straight. “Well, you don’t. And I don’t have a girlfriend, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Then who is she?” The question rang from Keon Carmichael, also thirteen, and cleaner tonight than Trevor had ever seen him.

“She goes to my church,” was all he supplied.

“She looks good, Coach,” LaKell stated, as if his stamp of approval were required.

Derek asked the circle, “Why can’t I meet fine sistas like that?”

“’Cause you ain’t nuttin’ but a lit’l boy.”

“I’m older than your ugly-mugly rump.” Derek and LaKell exchanged jabs not intended to do any harm.

“Chill, fellas,” Trevor urged. “Remember we agreed you’d try civilized behavior for one evening.”

The boys obeyed, and Trevor excused himself so he could go and say hello to one of the sponsors of tonight’s affair. Once he gave the boys his back and began walking away, LaKell called out, “Make sure we get an invitation to the wedding, Coach.”

“Make sure I’m the best man,” Derek yelled through their snickers.

Trevor never turned to look at them. He did not want them to see the blush on his face.

The ceremony began promptly at seven with the singing of the national anthem, followed by the black national anthem. After an applause-drawing welcome address by one of the youngest players in the league, a comedian kept the audience in hysterics until dinner was served. At the conclusion of the main course, they came to the crux of the ceremony: the presenting of the awards. Cassidy clapped and cheered with the others as the youngsters proudly strutted forward to claim their trophies and medals. She even applauded heartily when Trevor’s name was read as one of the contenders for Coach of the Year, and the boys on his team jumped up, whooping and clapping.

“I didn’t know you were a nominee,” Cassidy whispered. He smiled, a shy kind of smile that had her pulse beating between rapid and life-threatening, and she quickly turned back to the podium. Trevor did not win, and Cassidy did not know how she was going to survive the night if he kept smiling at her.

“You look as if you’re having a nice time,” he said as the last of the awards were presented.

If Cassidy were responsible for grading the event up to this point, she’d give it a big red A. “Yes, I am having a nice time,” she replied. She smiled, and decided she would wait until morning to voice the list of complaints she had written on a piece of paper and stuck in her purse. Surprisingly, Trevor had been the perfect gentleman, and he
had
taken her musical flavor into account. She was actually looking forward to the drive home when she would be able to listen to the remainder of her new CD. Cassidy reached for her water glass and shared a pleasant glance with Trevor. Tonight she would be an ideal escort, but first thing tomorrow, she would have a talk with Mr. Monroe. There were some things he needed to do differently if he was going to remain under her roof.

“This has really been nice.” Lydia Rodriguez popped the morsel of white-chocolate cheesecake that had fallen next to her empty dessert plate between her lips.

Everyone at the round dining table nodded and grinned in agreement with Lydia, except for Rave. Her evening had been dismal. She was at the right table, but with the wrong man. Rave cast her gaze beyond the floating-candle centerpiece and observed the pair across from her. She didn’t know what to make of something she’d witnessed earlier. After Trevor was announced as a candidate for Coach of the Year, Cassidy whispered in his ear, and though a smile curved his lips, it was his eyes that leaked the story. They sparkled with the stardust of a man in the early stages of falling in love.

Kregg murmured close to her head, “Everything all right, babe?”

Rave laid her hand atop Kregg’s and smiled into his eyes. “Everything’s wonderful as long as you’re by my side.” They shared a light kiss.

“Break it up, you two,” Shelby McNeil advised. “We have minors in here.”

“And they’re doing a lot more,” Eduardo Rodriguez pointed out. Several tables away, two teenagers were kissing as if they were the only ones in the room. “I better go cool ’em off.” Eduardo lifted the water pitcher, earning laughs from the others at the table.

“Give me that, Eddie.” Lydia took the pitcher from her husband, and he strode toward the kissing teens.

A section of the large ballroom had been reserved for dancing. The whoop of a DJ and the commanding sound of hip-hop sent teens flying from their chairs to the dance floor. Dimmed lights gave the room a club effect as the music screamed.

“Whose idea was this?” Lydia rested her forearms on the tablecloth and leaned forward to be heard.

Kregg thumped his fingers on the table to the beat of the music. He spoke extra loud like Lydia. “The planning committee thought the kids would enjoy it.”

“I’m enjoying it, too.” Rave wiggled to standing. The maroon silk clinging to her skin revealed shoulders and back to the waist. A slit running from ankle to center thigh exposed leg exactly the way she liked it. Licking her lipstick-layered lips and smoothing her hands over her figure, she fantasized about how it would feel to kiss Trevor while his hands became acquainted with her body.

Rave’s heart turned cold. If her ice pick stunt had played out the way it should have, she wouldn’t have to imagine. Maybe she should have stabbed two tires. At least she would have gotten to spend a little more time with the man she desired more than life.

She looked into the stare of her date. She made sure everyone at the table could hear her. “How about dancing with the sexiest female in attendance?”

Kregg kissed her palm. “Lead the way.”

chapter thirteen

R
ave and Kregg disappeared inside the crowd of dancers, and Derek approached the table. As Cassidy peered at the young man’s face, an arctic tongue licked her spine, and she hugged herself, chasing the icy sensation away.

“You senior citizens havin’ a good time?” A glowing smile followed Derek’s question.

“I’m having a great time.” Chantalle Williams, the coach of a girls’ basketball team, straightened her dress as she stood. “Let’s go dance.”

Derek’s eyes bulged as if to say that he couldn’t believe a grown woman wanted to dance with him. He swaggered as he escorted Chantalle across the room, nodding at the other boys who looked equally perplexed by Derek’s good fortune.

Lydia smiled. “This takes me back. Remember how we used to party, Eddie?”

Leaning back in his seat, Eduardo grinned.

“Would you care to relive old times?” she asked.

“Lydia, I think my gyratin’ days are over.”

“That’s not the way it seemed last night.”

“All right, now!” Shelby slapped Lydia with a high five, and Lydia led her blushing husband to the dance floor.

“Come on, Byron”—Shelby grabbed her escort’s hand—“let’s show these kids how it’s done.”

“You didn’t eat your dessert,” Trevor thundered over the music.

Cassidy glanced at the wedge of untouched cheesecake on her plate. “I don’t eat junk food.” The music softened some as she enveloped Trevor with a direct stare. “Do you know which disease kills more American women than any other disease?”

He grew pensive. “Breast cancer?”

“No. Heart disease. Many women believe cancer is their ultimate enemy, but heart disease poses the greater threat. A healthy diet will help lower the risk of developing heart disease
and
type 2 diabetes, which has surfaced in our community at an alarming rate.” Trevor seemed dazed by her words, and she supposed such facts were a lot for him to digest, considering he marketed sugar for a living. “The program really was lovely,” she said, changing the subject to something she knew he felt more at ease discussing. “I love anything that encourages children to do their best, then honors their accomplishments.”

Trevor nodded and shared the history of City Champions, but since the loud music made it difficult to converse in normal tones, they ultimately sat quietly, enjoying the dance moves of the young and not so young. A sappy love song came on, enticing the dancers to sway closer to their partners.

“Do you like to dance, Cassidy?” Trevor gripped the slim stalk of his glass and drained the last drop of sparkling cider.

Nerves nibbled at Cassidy’s insides. She prayed this wasn’t Trevor’s roundabout way of asking if she wanted to dance. There was no way she was dancing with him to something this slow, which required that partners touch. “It’s been a while since I’ve danced,” she answered, likewise choosing evasiveness. She glanced at him. He was staring ahead, seemingly a trillion miles away.

Trevor was actually a year and some months in the past, reliving the night he danced with his wife under the moon and the stars in their backyard. Brenda had loved to dance, to Natalie Cole mostly, before they made love.

A waiter came to clear the table. Affording the young gentleman more room, Trevor slid his chair closer to Cassidy. She gave him an uneasy smile, but her personality stayed open.