Dying To Play. Debra Webb
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“Say, Jack, you got any matches? I went to light a fire and couldn’t find any anywhere.”
That deep, velvety voice sent a tremor through Cassie’s middle. At first, she thought despair had driven her to some kind of auditory hallucination. After all, what would Guy Walters be doing up here? But when she turned to look around the side of the chair, her fantasy man was standing at the front desk, accepting a folder of matches from the clerk.
“Thanks,” Guy said. “Want to get a beer or something after you get off work?”
The clerk grinned. “Thanks, Guy, but I can’t. My fiancée’s cooking dinner for me.”
“Fiancée? When did this happen?”
The clerk’s grin broadened. “About a month ago. The wedding’s set for June.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks, Guy. You’ll have to meet Cheryl. She’s a great gal.”
“I’ll bet she is. Well, thanks for the matches.” He turned and walked away from the desk. Cassie leaned over farther, watching him disappear down the hall. So Guy Walters was here. Was he alone? He hadn’t mentioned anyone else when he’d asked the clerk to have a beer with him. Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, but she’d have sworn Guy sounded…lonely.
She grabbed up her backpack and followed Guy down the hall and up the stairs. She told herself she only wanted to see where he was staying, but already the kernel of an idea was growing in her mind. Why not go after a man like Guy? Jill had said.
He emerged from the stairwell on the fourth floor. She followed and watched him disappear into a room at the opposite end of the hall from Bob’s. She glanced over her shoulder, toward suite 418. What were Bob and “Sweetie” up to now? she wondered. As if she couldn’t guess.
As she stared at the brass-plated numbers on the door, a new surge of anger filled her. She had half a mind to knock on that door and tell her so-called boyfriend exactly what she thought of him and his two-timing ways. She clenched her hands into fists and took a step toward his door. He thought he was so clever, pulling this scam on dumb old Cassie, but she’d show him—
Just then, the door swung open. “I’m going to get some ice,” Bob’s voice drifted to her. Clad in boxer shorts and a T-shirt, he stepped into the hall, ice bucket in hand.
Cassie made a strangled noise as Bob turned toward her. “Cassie!” he gasped. “What are you doing here?”
Her first instinct was to turn and run, but some semblance of self-respect asserted itself and she stood her ground. “I came here to tell you what a worthless creep you are.” She drew in a shaky breath. “And that I never want to see you again.”
She turned away, but he lunged forward and caught her arm. “Aw, Cassie, what are you talking about?” He gave her an everything’s-going-to-be-all-right smile and patted her shoulder—as if she were a four-year-old, or a particularly troublesome puppy. “Why don’t we go somewhere and talk about what’s gotten you so upset?”
She looked down, wondering if it would be worth the effort to knee him where it would hurt the most. Her eyes narrowed. “Since when do you wear black silk boxers?” She glared at him. “You never wore silk boxers for me.”
“Now, hon, did you ever ask me?” He tried to put his arm around her, but she jerked away.
“Don’t touch me!”
“There’s no need to shout.” He frowned and glanced over his shoulder. “Someone might hear.” “Oh, I don’t mind.” She cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted. “Come on out, Mary Ann, and watch your new boyfriend act like the two-timing jerk he is!”
Bob’s smile collapsed at the mention of his partner in crime. “Now, Cassie!” He made shushing motions toward her. “I really think you’re being unreasonable.”
“Unreasonable.” She took a deep breath, rage making her feel two inches taller and ten times stronger. “I’ll tell you what’s unreasonable. Unreasonable is me waiting on you hand and foot for two years and expecting to get anything out of it. Unreasonable is me trying to be the woman you wanted instead of the woman I am.”
“Why don’t you go on back home and we’ll talk about it next week?” A feeble imitation of a smile returned to his lips. “I’ll take you to dinner. How about that?”
“You’re an idiot, Bob. Goodbye.” Damn, it felt good to say that! And it felt even better to see the horror on his face when he realized she was serious. She gave him her own patronizing smile and started to turn away, when his door opened again.
“Who are you talking to?” The brunette she’d seen earlier peered out of the room, one naked shoulder showing in the doorway. “I thought I heard shouting.”
“Uh, no one, darling.” Bob rushed to the door and began pushing Mary Ann back inside. “Just some crazy woman.”
“That’s right, some crazy woman.” Cassie broadened her smile and fluttered her fingers at the other woman. “A crazy woman who’s finally regained her sanity.”
With one last fearful look in her direction, Bob succeeded in forcing Mary Ann back into the room and shut the door firmly behind them. Cassie began to laugh, happiness bubbling up inside her like champagne. God, that felt good! And to think she’d wasted all these years keeping her mouth shut when things didn’t turn out the way she wanted.
She turned and walked down the hall again, intending to head downstairs, but instead found herself drawn to the opposite end of the hall, to the condo where Guy Walters was staying. Guy Walters, her dream man. Here alone for the weekend. And so was she.
She stopped in front of the door to Guy’s suite. Why not go after Guy? After all, hadn’t she said she wasn’t going to hold back anymore? Given the choice between spending the night in a chair in the lobby, and spending the night with the man of her dreams, what woman wouldn’t pick Guy?
Here was an opportunity to turn all her fantasies into reality. If she passed up this chance, she might as well put her hair up in a bun, let the hems down on all her skirts and resign herself to going through the rest of her life in a painfully proper stupor.
Before reason could overwhelm desire, she stepped forward and knocked on Guy’s door. As soon as her knuckles came in contact with the wood, a shiver of panic swept over her. She would have turned and fled, but her feet refused to listen to her brain and move. The door swung open and Guy stared down at her. “Hello?” he said.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her heart was beating somewhere in the vicinity of her throat, and all she could do was gape.
3
GUY LEANED TOWARD HER, his brow furrowed. “Cassie? Are you all right?”
“Um…I…uh…” Suddenly, she couldn’t think of a single coherent sentence. She stared up at him, into those warm brown eyes. He didn’t look angry or annoyed, just…concerned. As if…as if he might really care what she wanted. “Can I come in?” she blurted.
He opened the door wider. “Yeah. Sure.”
She slipped past him and went to stand in front of the fire that was beginning to blaze in the fireplace.
Guy shut the door and walked over to her. “You look upset. Are you in some kind of trouble?” He glanced over his shoulder. “I thought I heard shouting in the hall just now. Was that you?”
She hugged her arms across her stomach and stared at the floor, fighting sudden tears. “No, I’m not in trouble. At least not yet. And yes, that was me shouting.”
He looked at her warily. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
She sighed. Maybe it would help to talk about it. That’s