Tate (Cowboys & Debutantes: Contemporary Book 4) Read online

  Bernard shook his head. “Ye dinna seem the type.”

  “Excuse me?” Tate said, shaking himself back to the present.

  “Ye dinna seem the type to be with the one yer with.”

  Tate had to agree with that. Bernard had seen Cassandra when she’d met Tate at the apartment earlier in the day, had seen them leave together. But who was he to say if she was his type, or he hers? He didn’t know either of them from Adam. “What are you saying, Bernard?”

  Bernard shrugged. “I ken it’s none of me business, lad. And I’ll grant ye, she’s pretty – the two of ye make a handsome couple indeed. But … something’s not right.”

  “You’re a bold fellow, aren’t you,” Tate stated rather than asked.

  “I’m known for speaking me mind, aye.”

  “Well, I’m not sure I like you speaking it.” He stormed away. He knew Bernard was friends with John Woodrow – maybe that’s why he felt he could stick his nose into things. And everyone was entitled to their opinion. But why would he meddle with Tate, whom he only knew in passing?

  He caught Bernard’s apologetic look just as the elevator doors closed. Let the doorman stew over it – he knew he was out of bounds.

  Tate stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and felt the small jewelry case. Cassandra’s necklace. Melanie had made him pick it out himself – it was dainty yet durable, with a tiny sapphire in it. But he’d never had the chance to give it to Cassandra today – it never even left his pocket.

  That gave rise to all sorts of doubts. He couldn’t argue with the physical effect she had on him. But what healthy red-blooded male wouldn’t be affected by her? Still, he had to concede Bernard’s unsolicited point – something wasn’t right. The simple but strong accessory he’d chosen – was that really Cassandra? Did the piece of jewelry reflect what he thought of her? For that matter, did it reflect her? Or just what he hoped she would be?

  Tate entered the apartment, chucked the keys on a nearby table, then studied his disreputable appearance in the mirror over it. He still had lipstick on his right cheek and did indeed, as Bernard had put it, look like he’d had a tumble with a lass. “Great.” He turned away from the mirror. He wondered if the cab driver had noticed. Probably – it would explain the odd looks the cabbie gave him in the rearview mirror. He immediately headed for the bathroom to scrub his face and set himself to rights.

  Once he was able to tolerate looking at himself, he went into the living room, picked up the television remote and tapped his leg with it. He was restless, agitated, angry with himself, and Cassandra had worked him up into a frenzied lust that now would be left unsatisfied. He’d wanted her, badly, but it just wasn’t right. They weren’t married, which he felt strongly about. But there was more wrong about it than just that …

  If someone had asked him this morning, he’d have said he liked Cassandra, a lot. He might even go so far as to say he was falling in love with her. But was he really? She was so unlike other women he’d known. Could it just be because she was so incredibly beautiful and he’d never been with anyone like that before? Was she something to feed his pride, a trophy? He didn’t want to think of himself as someone who’d date a woman just because she made him look good. But was he?

  He tossed the remote onto the coffee table and groaned. Maybe Bernard was right. Maybe they weren’t the match he hoped they were.

  Tate rubbed his face a few times. Well, he genuinely liked Cass. Perhaps he just needed to spend more time with her, and things would work out. He began to contemplate how he’d do that.

  * * *

  “Going to see Georgie again today?” Melanie’s father asked.

  “This afternoon. I think my ankle will hold up.”

  Her father studied it as she propped her feet on an ottoman. He turned his head this way and that and made small grunting noises, his way of saying I don’t think so.

  “Dad, it’s a lot better than last week. I’m not using the crutches anymore. I’m not even limping.”

  “I’m just not sure it’s ready to hold up under so much pressure. You should give it a rest.”

  “If I discover I can’t ride, I won’t. It’s that simple.” She figured that would do the trick.

  “Will Tate be around?” he asked.

  “I suppose.” She tried to still her heart – the darn thing sped up at the mere mention of his name.

  “Well,” he drawled, “if he’ll be around to help you, then I suppose so…”

  “I’ll be fine,” she insisted. She took a deep breath, hoping the conversation was over. “What are you doing today?”

  “Playing golf over at Liberty National.”

  “Golf? You haven’t played golf in years. Who are you playing with?”

  “Believe it or not, John and Bernard. John’s a member.”

  “Casey’s dad and the doorman?” she said with a laugh. “Now that ought to be an interesting game.”

  “Anything involving Bernard is interesting.” He quickly looked at his watch. “Speaking of which, I’d better go. Thanks for breakfast.”

  “You’re welcome.” She made him breakfast once a week, twice if she had time. The man couldn’t cook, but wouldn’t hire one, even though he had the money.

  Of course, Casey and her father weren’t the only ones without a nurturing woman in their lives. Melanie’s parents had divorced when she was ten – not even her father’s money could keep the woman around. She’d married another man in short order and left. Melanie heard from her now and then, but not often enough to really keep the relationship going.

  She didn’t talk about it much to anyone, not even Casey. Instead she found solace in her creativity, her photographs and artistry. Her mother’s absence was one of the things that had spurred her into the arts in the first place, because she could create things out of nothing, make stories with her photography that had happier endings than reality.

  “Remember,” her father said. “Have Tate help you if you need him to.”

  She nodded as her chest tightened. “I will.” She walked her father out, then returned to her chair. “Tate …,” she whispered. Would he be around? Or would he be with Cassandra? He’d been spending a lot of time with her lately, and she could feel him slipping away.

  But Tate and Cassandra were dating. She’d never had him to begin with – she was just a friend. And as a friend of both of them, shouldn’t she help their relationship along? As flakey as Cassandra could be at times, she still deserved the benefit of the doubt. Besides, everyone deserved a chance at happiness. If they were both really into each other, she had no right to stand in the way just because of how she felt. Besides, this was New York – there were plenty of other fish in this sea.

  She couldn’t get involved with someone like Tate anyway – he lived on the West Coast, and all her work was here in New York. A long-distance relationship was asking for trouble. And she wasn’t looking to be tied down anytime soon – her work was far too important. She was building her career, making a name for herself in the industry. She didn’t have time to …

  Annie does it. And she does just fine.

  Melanie’s conscience sent her train of thought off the rails. Annie did have it all: husband, kids, career. She could balance it all too, and she wasn’t much older than Melanie herself.

  “So?” she said to herself. “What has that got to do with anything?”

  Everything, her conscience pointed out. But Annie isn’t pining after a guy who’s seeing someone else.

  “Oh, what do you know?” she snapped, got up and went to do the breakfast dishes.

  Chapter 9

  Several days later …

  “Are you sure you can swing it?” Casey asked.

  “I’m sure,” Melanie said. “And I’ll get to spend my birthday out West. That’s something new, right?”

  Casey laughed on the other end of the phone. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you have the best birthday ever.”

  “Have you found a place for us to shoot?�
�

  “I’m still working out the details, but I think it’d be fun to use the barn.”

  “The barn?!” Melanie said in shock. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No. I’m not,” Casey said confidently. “I’m sure you’ll get ideas. I have a few – I’ll explain everything once you get here. Gosh I can’t wait to see you, Mel.”

  Melanie smiled. “I can’t wait to see you too. It’ll be fun, and I could use a break from New York right now.”

  “Too bad you couldn’t bring Georgie, but the weather’s getting too cold for riding anyway. Who knows, maybe it’ll snow while you’re here.”

  “I won’t mind. I hear the skiing around there is great.”

  “Jake and I will take you. You can stay as long as you like.”

  Would six months be overdoing it? Melanie thought. “I’ll stay as long as I’m able, how’s that?”

  Casey laughed. “Okay, sounds good to me. See you at the airport.”

  “Looking forward to it,” Melanie said. “’Bye.” The call finished, she ran through a mental checklist of everything she would need for Casey’s shoot. No, better idea – she brought up an app on her phone to make a list.

  “She wants to photograph old women in bathing suits in a barn?” She shook her head as an image formed of little old ladies in Casey’s playful designs, frolicking around a kiddie pool in the middle of a barn, having a good old time. The phrase “Fun Is Where You Make It” popped into her head, and soon it morphed into an equally playful font on a magazine layout – two-page spread. “Omigosh … Casey, you’re brilliant!”

  She hopped off the couch, went to her desk and picked up her notebook and some colored pencils. Seated again, she began to sketch out what was in her mind – adding a few pool toys, picturing the looks on the horses’ faces as swimsuit-clad grannies partied around the kiddie pool. She laughed out loud several times as she sketched. The ad would be joyful, playful, an embodiment of the phrase “young at heart.” Which was the message: just because you’re old doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.

  Hours later, Melanie put the finishing touches on her creation, put the pencils and sketchbook to one side and sighed in satisfaction. She took pictures of the sketches with her phone and e-mailed them to Casey, then got up, went to the window overlooking the city and gazed at the endless sea of skyscrapers. From her apartment she could look at the expansive buildings that seemed to go on forever.

  She loved the sight, but sometimes it made her feel lonely. How can I be surrounded by all these millions of people, she thought, and have no one? She imagined a lot of New Yorkers asked themselves that – and a lot of people elsewhere. But she wasn’t going to find anyone to date by sitting around the house or working all the time. She’d have to put herself out there. But how – online dating? Join some singles group? Hit the clubs? Heaven forbid, a hookup site?

  She rested her head against the cool glass and sighed. It was easier than ever nowadays to meet someone … which made it next to impossible to find the right one. How did one pick a decent guy among millions? Sure, princes were out there, but how many frogs would she have to kiss in this pond to find one? It was almost easier to stay single.

  And maybe she should just concentrate on shooting Casey’s new designs and not worry about it right now. “That’s what I’ll do.” She grabbed her coat – she was hungry and needed a good walk. All that sitting and sketching had made her stiff.

  Once outside she stretched, then headed north. There was a bookstore she liked to browse about eight blocks away – maybe go there first? But no, she was hungry. Best to take care of lunch.

  She kept walking, her mind going over the props and equipment she’d need for Casey’s shoot. Considering it was nearly Halloween, she wasn’t sure they could find all she had in mind. Where on Earth was she or Casey going to find a blow-up kiddie pool and all the pool toys? Then there were the models themselves, these poor old women they’d have to pay to get into swimsuits and model in a cold barn – she knew it wasn’t exactly balmy at this time of year where Casey lived …

  She’d been so deep in thought that she didn’t realize how far she was going, and when she finally stopped, for a moment she didn’t recognize where she was. “What the …?” She turned a full circle to get her bearings. And when she did … “Are you kidding me?!”

  I don’t even know what to do with you. Seriously.

  She was well into the Upper East Side at this point – and not even a block from Tate’s apartment.

  Melanie wanted to smack herself on the forehead, but what good would it do? Did she consciously know where she was going? She’d had the bookstore in mind when she first set out, not where Tate was staying. Yet here she was. “So now what? Clearly my heart and mind are not in sync.”

  Your heart’s a moron, Melanie.

  But she tuned out her conscience and headed for the apartment building. She knew very well Tate wasn’t there – it was the middle of the day, so he was either out with Cassandra or working at Dixie’s. Most likely the latter, since she hadn’t seen him the day before when she went to ride Georgie. Besides, she could grab a bite at the deli across the street. She hadn’t been there in a while and missed talking with Fernan, the owner.

  She reached the doors of the apartment building and stopped. Her heart hammered in her chest and a tingle went up her spine. “This is ridiculous,” she said under her breath.

  You’re right – it is. He’s not even home. Why even bother feeling nervous?

  “I don’t know,” she answered aloud. “It’s stupid.” She decided not to dwell on it. Instead she crossed the street again and headed straight for the deli.

  “Melanie!” Fernan called with a smile as she entered. “Where have you been? I’ve not seen you in a long time.”

  She shrugged. “Ever since Casey moved and got married, I don’t get up here much, except to see my dad.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen your dad – he was in here with Casey’s, ah, what’s the word? Brother-in-law, that’s right. He comes in here a lot.”

  “Tate?”

  “Yes, Tate. He likes the raisin bagel with the strawberry cream cheese. Seems like a nice guy.”

  “He is.” Her eyes drifted to the display case full of bowls of cream cheese mixes.

  Fernan studied her a moment. “Are you not well?”

  Her head snapped up. “Oh no, I’m fine. Could I get a bagel with the vegetable cream cheese?”

  “And a pickle?” Fernan asked with a grin.

  Melanie grinned back. “And a pickle.”

  Fernan, his smile still in place, went to fill her order. He’d made pickles an inside joke with the regulars for a time, and now that word had gotten around about it, he asked everyone about a pickle. The thought made her smile.

  As Melanie went to find a seat, she glanced across the street. Tate might not be there, but she knew Bernard was. Maybe she’d go visit him for a few minutes after she ate. He’d put her in a good mood and get her mind off things – he was good for that. Besides, she wanted to hear the tale of his afternoon golf game with her father. It sure beat walking around, mooning about some guy she couldn’t have.

  * * *

  “And there I was, all lined up to take the shot and …” Bernard paused for effect.

  Melanie leaned forward. “And?”

  “And a squirrel ran across the green, right for the ball!”

  “A squirrel?!”

  “Aye, and as big as a corgi it was!” Bernard did a little jig, pantomiming avoiding a small charging animal. “I thought the beastie was going to take me foot off!”

  Melanie blinked at him a few times then burst into giggles. “I can’t wait to hear my father’s version of this.”

  “Oh, never mind about him, lass – he can’t tell it the way I can,” Bernard said with assurance. “But what about ye, now? How’s life without yer bestie?”

  “Oh, Casey. Well, it’s not like we never talk. In fact, I’m heading to Oregon next week to do a ph
oto shoot with her.”

  “Wonderful! The two of ye can work and have a nice long visit.” He was about to say something else, but excused himself to help a tenant get through the door with her packages. He said something with a smile that sent the woman into a fit of laughter. She barely made it to the elevator. Melanie smiled as she watched the scene. You could make a good short film about Bernard. Maybe she should suggest it to one of her director friends.

  “Now where were we?” he asked as he returned.

  “I was about to leave, sadly. I have work to do. It was great getting caught up, though.”

  “That it was, lass, that it was.” He looked away, as if to add something, but kept silent.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Ah, nae, nae. Just thinking.”

  Melanie smiled. “About?”

  He shrugged. “I hope ye and Casey have a good visit. Tell her me and the missus say hello.”

  “I’ll do that.” She turned to leave.

  “Melanie …”

  She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. “Yes?”

  “As my great-uncle Timothy once said, ‘time can do wonders for a man with no brains’.”

  She turned to face him, a perplexed look on her face. “What?”

  He laughed. “Ha! I knew that would get ye!”

  She smiled as she shook her head and once again headed for the doors.

  He rushed over and opened one before she reached it. “Did I mention I haven’t got a great-uncle Timothy?”

  She waved at him and headed out the door. She was definitely going to tell her director friend about Bernard. Maybe even bring him by the building. “Great-uncle Timothy,” she muttered, then giggled. “Bernard, you old card.” She headed home, her head clear and her step light. Amazing what a little food and a lot of laughter could do for a person.

  Once home she went over her calendar, booked her flight to Oregon, then flopped onto her couch. She glanced at the clock on the wall – 3:27. Should she head to Dixie’s and try to squeeze in a ride, or wait until tomorrow? Charlie was probably still there – he could help her if she needed. But she had already walked all the way to the Woodrows’ apartment and back, and her ankle was tender. And really, she wouldn’t be going to Dixie’s to see Charlie.