CHAPTER ELEVEN
She opened the door with a smile. “Just in time.”
Scott smiled back at her.
“Scott! What are you doing here?” Casey felt all the color drain out of her face. She moved to close the door, but wasn’t fast enough. Scott easily pushed past her into her apartment. “I didn’t invite you in.” Anger bubbled, but was strangled out by uncertainty, and fear. Her voice wavered.
Scott turned his cool brown eyes on her as he pulled a chilled bottle of wine from a cooler bag he carried and proceeded to pry out the cork. “Surprise.” He said with a smile. Reaching into her cupboard as if he owned the place he took down two wine glasses, filled them and handed one to Casey. She took it automatically, too shocked to do anything else.
He hadn’t changed, Casey thought as she regarded him warily, he was still tall, dark, athletically built and good looking, on the surface anyway. Underneath he was a spoilt child determined to have his way at any cost. Casey had thought she’d loved him at one point, now she couldn’t understand what she’d seen in him at all. She placed the untouched wine on the counter.
“You are not welcome here Scott. I want you to leave.”
“Oh Casey, darling.” He started around the Island, and Casey darted the other direction. She felt safer with something between them.
Scott scowled, but stopped and appraised her. “I missed you. I know I hurt you when I left, but it’ll be much better now.” He took a sip of his wine and smiled a smile a few months ago would have had Casey melting at his feet. “My wife knows how important you are to me. She won’t be a bother. So we can be together just like you wanted.”
“Are you totally sick?” Casey asked, eyes wide at his gall. “I don’t want to be with you and I’ve told you that over and over. You need to leave, Scott. Now.” She pointed to the door.
Scott walked over to her with deliberate steps. “You don’t mean that.” He smiled and grabbed her cold hands in his. “You really don’t mean that.” With one hand he grabbed Casey by the back of the head and pulled her to him, catching her lips in a punishing, bruising kiss that left Casey cold.
Casey froze, and then, with strength she didn’t know she possessed, pulled back quickly and broke his hold. She moved to a safe distance away and glared. “I do mean that. And don’t touch me again.” her voice broke on the last word. “I don’t love you anymore, I don't know if I ever did, and we are not getting back together. I’m seeing someone.” When Scott just kept looking at her with his calm knowing look she panicked and used the first thing she could think of that might make him leave her alone. She blurted, “In fact I’m living with someone.” At the incredulous look on Scott’s face she knew she had finally found something to get through to him. “You need to go Scott, go back to your wife.”
“You don’t mean that, Babe.” His voice was just a little less convinced now. “We were so good together…”
“No Scott, we are over. Andrew will be home any minute…..”
The front door squeaked as it swung inward. Casey almost collapsed with relief. Andrew. Before she could worry about his reaction she immediately jumped to the door and pulled it open. “Hi Honey,” She smiled brightly. “You’re home early.” She reached up and gave him a big hug and a smacking kiss. “Just go with it, please.” she whispered quickly. “Oh that’s the perfect wine for the dinner I’m cooking. You do have a great eye.” She smiled brightly and put the bottle on the table next to the door. She saw Andrew placed a bouquet of flowers next to it. He didn't say a word.
Andrew took a deep breath. There was no way to miss the undercurrents in the room, or to be confused by Casey's actions and words. He just wasn't sure yet what they meant and would reserve judgement. It would be so easy to jump to conclusions, but his first gut reaction to seeing the strange man in her apartment didn't fit with Casey's words, her actions or the underlying sense of fear he could sense. He shut off the emotional side of his brain. He would determine the appropriate course of action when he had more information. Deliberate, decisive, analytical. The Andrew most people knew from the boardroom took over.
“Andrew honey, meet Scott Cameron, an old friend. He was just leaving.”
Andrew took his time studying Casey's face as she moved closer against his side, hugging his arm, her body turned into his in a quest for protection he couldn't miss. He saw the bruising on her arms, the raw look to her lips, and the unmistakable fear. He felt his blood boil. "What did he do to you?" His voice was low, menacing.
"Please…." She implored quietly. "Please, I just want to get him out. I…I'll explain later. I can't…." she shook her head, her eyes shone brightly with unshed tears.
Andrew fought back the urge to pummel this Scott scum into the ground, and wrapped his arm protectively around Casey's shoulder. He looked toward Scott, his stare deadly. He took a moment to enjoy the look of abject terror that crossed the other man's face.
Scott didn't say anything either and sidled past Andrew as quickly as he could.
Casey pulled out of Andrew's comforting arm and held open the door. “Well it was very nice of you to stop by to say hi, but now really isn’t a good time.” She pulled the door open further and ushered him through. “Give your wife my best will you?” She asked facetiously and, before Scott could do more than sputter awkwardly, she had waved a perky little wave and closed the door in his face. And turned all of the locks for good measure.
Turning and leaning her back against the door she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. One tear escaped and slid slowly down her cheek. She brushed it away angrily.
“Well I knew we were getting along well, but moving in seems like quite a big jump after only a couple of dates, don’t you think?” Andrew asked quietly.
Casey opened her eyes to find Andrew standing a few feet away with his hands in the pockets of his jacket just watching her. “Thank you.” She said simply. “I’m sorry about that but he just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Andrew just continued to watch her quietly. "Are you OK?" he ran a finger over her cheek and wiped away another rogue tear. He looked at it on the end of his finger and bent his fingers into a fist. With an oath he pulled Casey to him and held her, just held her.
She sighed, she owed him an explanation. “He’s an old boyfriend.” She started, her voice tinged with bitterness. “He seemed to think that enough time had gone by that I’d forgive the fact that he had a wife on the side and would take him back.” She shrugged, “We dated briefly about a year ago. I thought it was love.” She told him almost apologetically looking up at his closed expression. “I thought we were meant to be together. He was so sweet, and attentive, and treated me like a princess. But then the store started getting busier, and he felt it was taking too much time away from ‘us’, he started to get mad, jealous almost and the attention turned controlling.” She stopped and shivered. “He wanted to know where I was all the time, who I was with. He’d drink and get angry and accuse me of things I never did.” She paused when Andrew's arm left her shoulder' briefly. He handed her a tissue. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying. She wiped her eyes.
Andrew leaned against the wall, pulling her tighter into his embrace. She felt a soft kiss on her temple. His actions calmed her more than any words could have.
“One night we were having dinner, and I was trying to find a way to tell him it was over, that I didn’t want to see him anymore….and his wife called.” She felt Andrew tense. “Yeah, his wife.” She answered his unspoken question bitterly. “I had gone to the ladies room and was just on my way back when his phone rang. He didn’t see me and I could hear both sides of the conversation. She was pissed. Understandable. It seems the whole time he was wooing me, being jealous, trying to control my life, he was already married to someone else.” She laughed. “It made it really easy to do the breaking up then.” She smiled at the memory. “I dumped my glass of wine on his head and stalked out.”
“Bastard.” Was
all Andrew said, and pulled her closer. "You did the right thing."
“That was the last time I heard from him and I thought it was done.” She looked up at Andrew through eyes still wet with angry tears. “But he started calling me again a few weeks ago, and tonight he just showed up at my door.”
“Did you report him to anyone?”
“I didn’t think it was anything.” She shrugged. “The calls were creepy, but I just kept telling him to leave me alone and would hang up. I never expected him to show up at my door like this.” She shivered. “It was almost like he didn’t realize we split up over a year ago. He acted like he had every right to be here. It was scary.” She leaned into his shoulder. “Much as I hate to admit it I am very afraid of what might have happened if you hadn’t shown up.”
“So am I Casey."
Casey shuddered. "He just wouldn’t leave me along, his ego is enormous. Telling him I was involved and living with someone was the only thing I could think of to get him out of my home quickly.” She grimaced. “And you walked in at a very opportune moment; I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. So, again, thank you.”
Not waiting for a reply, she pulled back out of Andrew’s arms, took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. "I think I need a drink." She handed him the bottle of wine he had brought and pulled down two clean glasses, then turned and picked up the bottle Scott had brought. "I don't think I can ever drink this." She dumped the contents of the bottle down the drain.
“So, you think that he'll stay away now?” Andrew asked, opening the wine and pouring them each a glass. Casey was busy pouring the other wine down the sink and missed the scepticism in his question.
“Pretty sure,” She said. “He’s got such a huge opinion of himself, but isn’t much for a straight out fight.” She grinned. “I don’t think he'd feel that it was worth fighting with you to try again.”
Andrew leaning down gave her a soft kiss on the temple. “Did I mention that he’s an idiot? You are definitely worth fighting for.” He straightened, took a sip of his wine and smiled. “Besides I outweigh him by at least 50 pounds, I can take him.”
Casey’s laugh gurgled in her throat. “Good to know.” She opened the oven to check on the lasagne. “Almost ready.”
“So you don't think he'll be back."
Casey shook her head. “He won’t, he’s gone now. I’ll be OK.” She tried to sound confident, but was still a bit shaky from the whole ordeal and wasn’t sure it came across as confidently as she’s planned. "I thought I saw him the other day outside my store. It gave me a bit of a scare, but I'm sure he'll leave me alone now."
She turned back around and almost ran into Andrew. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "He's been calling you, watching…no, stalking you and now he's stopping by to visit when you've told him you aren't interested. He's obsessed, Casey….You have to do something. He's not just obsessed, he's dangerously obsessed. You can't stay here alone until we're sure he has really backed off. You can come to the Bay and stay with me."
“Don’t be silly. I’m not going to move in with you.” She retorted.
“There are lots of rooms. I’m not expecting anything; I just don’t trust that he won’t come back. I don’t want you too far away from me. I don’t trust him.”
“Andrew, don't tell me what to do." She couldn't stop the ice that started crackling through her heart. "Scott…..Scott's my problem. I don't need anyone telling me how to handle it, and I'm not running away to move in with you because of fear."
“Casey, I care about you and don’t want to see you hurt.”
She felt the ice start to melt again and sighed. “You’re only here for another couple of weeks. I have to keep living my life after you go.” She picked up her wine glass and walked into the living room. She settled herself down on her favourite spot on the couch.
Andrew followed, but remained standing. “I need to know you’re safe.”
“Andrew…..I appreciate your concern. But I can’t.” Her gaze was steady as it clashed and warred with his. His sigh, when he turned and dropped back onto the couch beside her, was heavy.
“Fine.” he agreed, surprising her. Scott would have wheedled and plotted and used every trick in the book until she agreed to his 'suggestions'. But Andrew wasn't Scott. There was no comparison.
"What are you going to do?"
His question surprised her, but it was true, she needed to do something. Andrew was right, whether she really wanted to acknowledge it or not, Scott wasn't going to stay away, and if he ever realized that she still lived alone….Casey felt a frisson of fear. “I’ll call the cops on Monday and get a restraining order out on him." She decided.
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"Tempting," she smiled, "but no, I need to handle this."
"Will you at least keep my phone so if you ever need me you can reach me quickly?"
"I'll put your number on speed dial." She promised. "I suppose that means I'll need to keep it charged." She mused. "And I'll keep my door locked and check it before I open it to make sure no one's tampered with the lock."
Andrew couldn't help it; he had to make one demand. "And if you ever see that son of a bitch again, you’re calling me and then the police right away. Got it?” His eyes glittered dangerously.
She smiled, strangely comforted by his show of anger. “Got it? And Andrew? Thank you, but I can really look after myself.”
“Did he hurt you?” Andrew ran his thumb over her swollen lips.
“Mostly just my pride and a bruise or two. I’ll heal.” She said quickly when his gaze darkened again. “So, this dinner invitation isn’t starting out quite the way I had planned.”
“No, I don’t suppose it is.”
“Let’s start over.” She jumped up from the couch, and grabbing his hand, pulled him up with her.
Andrew looked down at her. “Pardon?”
“Let’s start over. Let’s pretend this first part never happened.”
“You want to start over….?”
“I do.”
“Well then, let's start over.” Andrew walked over to the front door and picked up the flowers he’d put down when he’d been pulled into the apartment so suddenly.
“Good evening Casey, I hope you like daisies, and white wine.” He smiled.
“Good evening Andrew,” She smiled back. ” I love daisies, and the wine…” she lifted her glass to her lips and took a quick sip, “will go perfectly with my lasagne.”
He bent down and gave her a long sweet kiss. “Mmm, you taste delicious.” He licked his lips. Handing her the flowers he walked farther into the room.
“Make yourself at home…again….” Casey invited with a giggle. “I’ll just get a vase for the flowers.” She disappeared into the kitchen.
Andrew took her invitation seriously. He walked around the small apartment examining the small touches that are an indicator of the owner’s personality. She obviously loved blue glass. One entire bookcase and the large windowsill in the living room were completely covered in it. A large fern stood in one corner of the room, adding a splash of green. An antique rocker had a place of honour by the window. The small overstuffed couch they’d been sitting on earlier and the matching chair, both in a bright Aztec pattern faced the rocker, making a very cozy conversation A couple of end tables and a large square coffee table finished off the room. He liked it; it was a charming, happy room. A lot like Casey herself.
Andrew wandered over to the built-in bookcase that covered the entire end wall of the room. Other than the blue glass there were numerous family pictures, dolls, obviously collected from a young age, and other knickknacks, some new, some not so new. Andrew was looking closely at a framed photo of Casey and another girl who looked a lot like her, when she walked back into the room.
She placed the flowers she’d put into a blue glass vase on the end table next to the couch and noticed his interest in the photo. “That’s my sister, Stephanie. My best friend.”
She explained. “We’re only a couple of years apart in age… probably the reason we’re so close.” She walked over and sank down on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her.
Andrew continued to examine the various treasures on display. “Are you two the only kids?” He asked examining the other photos.
“No. We’ve got an older sister, Katherine. She’s a bush pilot in Northern Ontario.” Andrew flashed her a startled look. Casey shrugged. “She’s never been much of a people person and after her husband was killed in a car accident about nine years ago she finally found her niche hidden away in the bush.” She offered Andrew a cracker from the plate in front of her. “The oldest in the family is Kyle.” She chewed her own cracker, spread lavishly with Brie cheese, contemplatively. “He’s 36 and a retired model, owns his own studio and agency in Milan now. He seems to be doing pretty well, last year he flew the entire family over for Christmas.” She laughed. “Now that was a hoot.” She picked up another cracker and sliced off more Brie. “There’s a picture of the entire family up on the top shelf.” She indicated a large frame above his head.
“Nice looking family. Are those your parents?” Andrew inquired indicating a smaller frame on the shelf at eye level.
“Yeah, they were killed in a freak accident a few years back.” Her voice was sad. “A car went out of control and ran into them when they were taking their nightly walk.”
“I’m sorry.” He walked over to the couch and sat next to her. He put her small hand in his and brought it to his mouth.
“We weren’t as close as I would have liked to be. I was at school in Ontario at the time and Dad was stationed somewhere in Germany. I wasn’t even able to go to the funeral.” She shook her head despondently. “I can’t believe it’s been nearly 8 years already. Its incredible how fast time goes by when you get older isn’t it?”
Andrew leaned back against the back of the couch and stretched out his long legs. “That is so true. Look at us.” He flashed Casey a teasing look. “I’ve known you for just over a week and it already feels like years.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment.” Casey scowled and then smiled. With a quick glance at her watch she stood up and changed the subject. “Supper should be ready, Sir.” She curtsied low, laughing. “If you’ll just follow me.” Picking up a dishtowel hanging nearby she gave her best impression of an English butler.
Andrew laughed and followed her to the table. “I hope your cooking is better than your accent.”
Casey hit him with the dishtowel.
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