Page 17

When she returned, the suite was full and people were mingling around. As soon as she stepped into the room, the blonde was there. “What took you so long?” she asked impatiently. “The match is about to start.”

“I’m so sorry,” Cassie said, doing her best to be as polite as possible. After being married to Duke, she’d had a lot of practice looking demure and regretful. She kept her gaze lowered and hands neatly folded in front of her. “Apparently, the caterer doesn’t carry Olympia beer. I do apologize.”

“I thought you understood.” The other woman elevated her voice and flung her hands out as though distraught.

“We carry a similar brand, but it has to be ordered through the suite owner.” Her words were followed by a short silence.

“What’s your name?” the woman demanded.

“Cassie.”

“Cassie what?”

“Cassie Carter.”

“Is there a problem?” a man asked. He stood next to the woman, but all Cassie saw was his feet.

Even then she knew. Although she kept her gaze lowered, she immediately recognized the man’s voice.

Steve Brody.

Cassie wanted to curl into a tight ball and disappear. How humiliating to run into him. Though it was the last thing she wanted to do, she jerked her head up and met his eye. Squaring her shoulders, she silently stood her ground.

“This … this server refused to get me my Olympia beer.”

Cassie longed to defend herself, but she kept silent. She had refused the other woman nothing. In fact, she’d done everything humanly possible to get her what she wanted.

“Is that true, Cassie?” he asked.

The blonde whirled around to face Steve. “You know her?”

He waited an uncomfortable moment before he answered. “We’ve met.”

“Really?” The blonde gave Cassie the once-over and snorted softly.

“Come on, Britt, the match is about to start.”

“But the Sounders could lose if I don’t have my Olympia beer.”

“The Sounders will just have to do their best without it,” he said, steering Britt away from Cassie.

Relaxing her shoulders, Cassie left the suite, surprised to find that she was shaking. It was more than having to deal with that unreasonable woman. Meeting up with Steve Brody was bad enough, but then for him to show such reluctance to admit he knew her had been mortifying.

Cassie finished delivering the hot dishes to the suites assigned to her, and by the end of the day she felt like she’d walked fifty miles.

Distressed and irritated, she was eager to get home. On the way, she stopped off at Rosie’s to collect Amiee.

It was after seven by the time she arrived. “How’d it go?” Rosie asked expectantly.

Cassie swallowed tightly. “Not so good, I’m afraid.”

Shock showed on Rosie’s face. “What happened? I told Russell you’re an excellent worker and I personally vouched for you.”

“I know and I’m sorry. Unfortunately, Russell said he wouldn’t be able to use me again.”

Amiee came to stand next to her mother. “Mom?” Her big brown eyes stared up at Cassie.

Cassie didn’t feel she had any choice but to explain. “Someone complained about me. She asked me to get a particular brand of beer for her, and because I took the time to try to fill her request, I was late delivering the hot entrées to the other suites. Russell said he was sorry, but his job is to keep the suite owners happy. He couldn’t risk something like this happening a second time.”

“Oh Cassie, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Yes, I am, too.” And the worst part of it was that she’d need to face Steve Brody again later in the week.

Chapter 9

The text on Steve Brody’s cell was a request from Megan Victory from the Habitat for Humanity office, asking if he wouldn’t mind stopping by when it was convenient. Whatever it was, she clearly didn’t feel comfortable talking via the phone.

Stop by when it was convenient. With his hectic schedule, convenient wasn’t part of his vocabulary. His day was busy enough and he didn’t need anything more piled on his plate. Still, if Megan asked to see him, then clearly something important was on her mind.

Steve’s work with the humanitarian group had helped him deal with the unrelenting grief he’d endured after Alicia’s death. If he could find a way to work from dawn to dusk, keep his mind busy and his body physically exhausted, he might distract himself enough to find some peace. He might be able to forget the helplessness he’d felt watching the woman he loved breathe her last breath.

He wished he could say his plan worked. It hadn’t. Nothing did.

Alicia was never far from his thoughts, even now, three years later. The only antidote to this pain, he discovered, was time. As the weeks and months passed he found it somewhat easier to function. He kept an emotional distance from most everyone. That was necessary because he’d learned that caring and loving put his heart at risk. He’d been badly hurt once, and he wasn’t game for a second round.

The one exception had been a gentle-natured eight-year-old boy. He was the grandson of Joe Osborne, who owned a large electrical-supply company where Steve bought his materials. For whatever reason, Jeremy had taken a liking to Steve. Joe had brought his grandson onto the job site with him when Steve was there and the boy had looked at Steve with wide, adoring eyes. Even now Steve wasn’t sure what the kid saw in him; perhaps he recognized the longing Steve held deep in his heart for a son one day. Whatever it was, Jeremy pestered Joe until he took the youngster to see Steve again. Jeremy had asked Steve to help him build a small wooden car for a Cub Scout event, and they’d been pals ever since.

It was through Jeremy that Steve met Britt, Jeremy’s divorced mother, though he wasn’t nearly as fond of her as he was of her son. Steve had dated Britt a couple times, but no way was he serious about her. The truth was he didn’t feel the least bit of physical attraction for Britt. She was pretty, that was sure, but she had an edge to her that he found off-putting. The only reason he’d gone out with her those few times was because he couldn’t help thinking how perfect it would be if he could have fallen for Jeremy’s mother. But he didn’t want to lead Britt into thinking that he was interested in her romantically, because at this point he could tell it wasn’t happening.

Technically, Steve wasn’t employed by Habitat—all his work was volunteer. His supervisor, Stan Pearson, was a paid full-time employee, and generally he’d be overseeing the volunteers’ work on every phase of construction. However, with Steve’s vast knowledge base, that wasn’t necessary.

Steve was able to tear himself away from his own job site around four, which gave him only an hour to stop off at Habitat’s offices before heading over to work on the Youngs’ house.

Cassie Carter was scheduled to work that evening. She was an interesting character—now, there was a woman with spunk. Steve doubted that she backed down from anything. He’d never known a woman with more expressive eyes. He could see how difficult it had been for her to bite her tongue when Britt made her unreasonable demand for the beer. He gave Cassie credit, though: She’d been a picture of politeness.

Steve had been surprised to find Cassie working the Sounders game. It appeared she worked two jobs in addition to putting in her Habitat hours. She certainly didn’t stand still for long.

Britt’s overreaction to the fact Cassie couldn’t get her what she wanted had embarrassed Steve. The minute she learned that he knew Cassie, Britt had peppered him with questions about the other woman, hounding him for information, asking if they’d ever dated. She’d come off like a jealous shrew. Steve regretted even attending the game with her.

Joe Osborne had won the use of the suite in a charity auction and had invited Steve to join him and his daughter and some other guests. Jeremy had spent the weekend with his mostly absent father and wasn’t at the match. If Steve had known beforehand that Jeremy wasn’t going to be there, he wasn’t sure he would have accepted the invitation, although he had to admit that watching the game itself had been a lot of fun. The only downside was Britt, who’d behaved like a spoiled brat. Despite her dire predictions, the Sounders won even though she wasn’t able to drink her favorite beer.