Nope. I’m regular old Cassie. And while I have no plans to inhabit my sisters’ world anytime soon, it does feel good to be bonding with them on some level.
“She can start using her full name,” Missy is busy telling Lisa, still hung up on my marital future. “Cassondra Glass sounds very elegant.”
“Oh, you’re right!”
I roll my eyes and stuff my phone back in my pocket. There’s no reasoning with them, so I won’t bother trying. We start walking again, and the ocean breeze tastes fresh and cool. My skin prickles pleasantly from the salty air, and I think about snapping a photo of the waves to send to Simon. Would that be too much of a girlfriend move? And even if it is, would that be the worst thing?
“Oooh, there’s a bakery,” Missy says. “Let’s see if they have coffee.”
Lisa nods. “Okay, but if they don’t have flax milk, I’m out of there.”
Missy pushes open the door to the little shop, and we head inside. The space is warm and smells like cinnamon and coffee beans. I breathe deeply, enjoying the steamy aroma of coffee and the soft whoosh of an espresso machine.
I stare up at the readerboard above the counter, one of those old-school chalkboards with colorful hearts and flowers stenciled along the border. The chai sounds good, or maybe a mint latte. I’ve almost made up my mind when I feel a tingle on the back of my neck. Like someone’s watching me.
Slowly, I turn around. It’s Simon.
Here. In Newport. Less than twenty feet from where I stand in my clunky rain boots and pilled sweater.
But instead of moving toward me, he’s moving away. He’s heading for the door in a hurry, glancing back at me with a fretful expression. My gaze locks with his, and I realize he’s not alone. A woman with shoulder-length caramel hair is holding his arm, her face turned away from me as she studies the row of souvenir mugs on the wall.
Simon freezes. He’s ten feet away, and he looks like a teenager who got caught sneaking out of the house. I hear a rushing sound in my ears, and I wonder if it’s the espresso maker or my brain exploding.
“Cassie,” he says.
It’s the first time the sound of my own name has filled me with dread.
Chapter 17
Simon
As I stare at Cassie across the espresso-fogged café, I realize I’ve never felt so torn.
Part of me knows distancing myself from her is the easiest way to make a clean break. To keep either of us from getting too attached.
Another part knows that if my sister meets her, it’s all over. I’ll have three years of explaining things every time Junie asks, “Where’s Cassie?” and the real answer is, “she found a guy with a lot less baggage.”
And another part of me just wants to shove this fucking rack of mugs out of the way, race across the room, take her in my arms, and?—
“Cassie,” I choke out. “Uh, hey.”
The two women flanking her have the same green eyes, and I know from Cassie’s descriptions that the taller one is Missy. That means the blonde in the Burberry raincoat is Lisa. I realize I can pick her sisters out of a lineup and name them on sight.
Cassie doesn’t know I have a sister.
“Simon?” Junie tugs my coat sleeve. “I like this mug a lot. The one with the cats?”
I say good-bye to any thought I might’ve had about whisking Junie out of here before she connects the dots between me and the perplexed-looking woman in the green raincoat. I turn to Junie, hoping maybe I can distract her.
“Which of those T-shirts over there looks like one you’d wear?” I ask.
Junie frowns at the T-shirts, then looks back at me. “They’re all exactly the same.”
Right. That they are.
I give up my attempt to distract my sister and turn back to Cassie. She and her sisters are walking toward me now, and I know I need to do a better job looking excited instead of petrified.
Since excitement is my normal state around Cassie, that part’s not hard. But the circumstances are less than ideal.
