Soul Mates (11 page)

“That’s just strange,” Chad scratched his head. “Maybe she’s schizo.”

“Maybe,” Jace acknowledged. The thought had crossed his mind, too.

“So that’s it? She asks you to go for coffee, you drive her to a friend’s place…now what?” Chad looked puzzled. “Are you gonna see her again?”

“Doubt it,” Jace shrugged. “I don’t have her number. Don’t even know her last name. Besides, I’m not sure I want to; we’re too different.”

“The Rich Bitch and the Pauper,” Chad grinned. “Sounds like a Disney blockbuster to me.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh well, it’s not the first time you struck out on a first date,” Chad laughed, downing the rest of his beer.

“I didn’t exactly strike out.” Jace couldn’t resist letting his friend know that more had taken place.

“So…what? You made out?”

“We kissed,” Jace replied nonchalantly. “I dared her to, and she took me up on it. I could tell she wanted to.”

“And then what? She gets out of the car and walks away?” Chad’s furrowed brow indicated he was trying to figure it out, too.

“Pretty much.”

THE CAB DROPPED HER OFF at the Town House just after one o’clock. Cassandra ran up the steps, seeking the comfort her childhood home offered, hoping that being there could wash away the shame she was experiencing. It was all too clear now. Jace wasn’t the person she’d judged him to be. Sophia had been right after all, and it left Cassandra in a predicament.

Confident that she could uncover his true nature, she’d intended to present her aunt with evidence that afternoon. She was supposed to be at her aunt’s place in less than an hour, yet she couldn’t go near the building for fear of running into Jace. “God, what have I done?”

Though she’d directed her query heavenward, the dogs came rushing to her side. Letting them in the house was against the rules when her mother was home, but Cassandra didn’t care; she wanted the company. She breathed evenly as she paced the marble foyer, dogs at her heels, trying to come up with a solution.

“I could call and tell her I’m not well,” she suggested to Delilah. The old dog gazed up at her with an inquisitive look.
No, that might worry her,
she concluded, forgetting her aunt’s view about worry.
I could tell her I have to go back to the city early, a work emergency maybe. God! More lies. I have to stop this!

I could invite her here.
The idea was by far the best she’d come up with—she truly wanted to see her aunt—however, the idea wasn’t free of complications.
Mother said she rarely comes here anymore.
Knowing that the reason was the tension between her mother and her great aunt, Cassandra was still willing to ask.
But if she does come, what if she gets Jace to drive her? I wonder if she calls him any time she needs a ride or if she has to arrange it in advance?

The clock ticked on, and she needed to make a decision fast. She opted to invite her aunt to the Town House, praying that she’d be willing to come, and praying that Jace wouldn’t drive her. Her anxiety increased as she heard the sweet, old voice answer the phone.

“Aunt Sophia, this is Cassandra. I wondered…I know I said I’d stop by this afternoon…but I thought, maybe…”

“Are you all right, dear?” Sophia asked calmly.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine,” she assured her. “I just thought we might have more time together if you were to come out to the house. Mother and Daddy left for the summer house this morning, so we’d have the place to ourselves. It’s lovely in the garden this time of day,” Cassandra offered enticingly.

Sophia was quiet on the other end.

In a final effort, Cassandra added, “Daddy said you have a chauffeur now. Don’t feel obligated, though; it was just an idea.”

“I’d be happy to come out to the house, dear,” Sophia replied cordially. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been there.”

“Will your driver be available on such short notice?” Cassandra closed her eyes and crossed her fingers, hoping the answer would be no.

“I’ll see if Jace is home,” Sophia replied. “If not, don’t worry; I’m quite comfortable taking a cab.”

Her answer did little to relieve Cassandra’s jitters, and hearing his name intensified her guilt. “All right,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

Calculating that her aunt could be half an hour if she waited for a cab and sooner if Jace were to drive her, Cassandra went up to her bedroom and sat on her window seat where she had a view of the long driveway. As she waited, she replayed the morning’s events in her head, going over the information she’d underhandedly acquired.
His name is Jace Rutherford. He’s approximately twenty-five years old. He works on an assembly line in one of the factories here in town. He drives a Honda Accord—although it belongs to my aunt. No, wait…that’s still an assumption.
She found herself arguing for his defense.

Jace…
She smiled, remembering their conversation as he dropped her off at the high-rise.
It was so cute the way he told me I owed him a kiss for cab fare. And that kiss…
It had been more than she’d bargained for. She hadn’t expected him to respond the way he did, hadn’t expected to feel the instant heat. Truthfully, it was one of the most exceptional kisses she’d ever experienced.
I wonder if he felt it too.

Her thoughts were suspended as she heard the dogs barking. She’d put them outside before going upstairs, and they were letting her know that a car was approaching. She moved back from the window and peered from behind the heavy drape. The sight of a blue car made her rapid pulse begin to slow. She watched until she had no doubt that it was a cab, then ran down to welcome her aunt.

CHAPTER 8

CASSANDRA WAS relieved when her plane touched down. It was comforting to be back in the city. The distance helped ease her mind. She’d come to realize that future trips to Port Hayden would be devoid of pleasure because of the anxiety she possessed. Port Hayden was associated with Jace Rutherford and having to be constantly on guard for fear of running into him. If he discovered that she was Cassandra Van Broden, that she’d lied to him and led him on to get information for a background check, that she’d suspected him of taking advantage of an old woman with money, he would hate her—plain and simple.

The whole matter upset her for many reasons. Her aunt would surely learn that she’d acted in an underhanded way, and that pained her because she valued her aunt’s good opinion of her. Furthermore, acting that way was out of character. She didn’t like the way it felt or how easy it had been for her to step into that role. She’d acted impulsively, immorally. Finally, it weighed on her because she cared what Jace thought of her. Though they barely knew each other, they were connected by their association to Sophia Langdon.

But it was more than that. She’d been trying unsuccessfully to wipe him from her mind. She’d been smitten by his good looks, his openness, his sense of humor. Although they were an unlikely match, had they met under different circumstances, something might have developed. Now that wasn’t even a possibility.

JACE APPRECIATED the use of Sophie’s car and did his best not to take advantage of her kindness. She’d had him drive her several times and always invited him in for tea afterward. He obliged at first, wanting to be polite. After a time or two, he began to enjoy her company. He still had reservations about her unconventional beliefs yet found himself with more and more questions as the days went by. After driving her to get groceries one evening, Jace sat down at his usual spot by the kitchen counter and watched her put the items away.

“You know, Jace, people aren’t always what they appear to be at first glance.”

Her comment came from nowhere, yet it seemed to address what was on his mind—he’d been thinking of Tanisha. He stared at her for a moment, not knowing how to respond.

“You can feel what’s right for you, though.”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” he replied uneasily.

“You seem to have a lot of hostility toward rich people,” she explained, referencing their prior discussion. “Why is that?”

“I’ve seen the way some of them operate.”

She didn’t respond, so he went on. “My mom works for a rich family. After my dad died, she didn’t have much choice. I hated seeing her reduced to a servant, but it was either that or factory work.” He sighed audibly. “And factory work sucks. I know what kind of profits the owners make on the products we assemble, yet we get paid peanuts.”

“Remember what I said about leverage, Jace?”

Jace had to think a minute. He recalled what she’d told him, yet he wasn’t sure how it applied to the current topic. “You said that focus works the same way. I’m still not sure what you meant by that,” he admitted.

“What are you focusing on?”

“You mean, what am I thinking about?” He gave her a confused look. “Right now?”

“In general,” she clarified, “when you think about money. Your job, your mother’s employers, other wealthy people. What kinds of thoughts do you think?”

Jace frowned. He’d never paid much attention to the content of his thoughts. He couldn’t see the relevance.

Sophie smiled sweetly and set a plate of cookies on the counter in front of him. “I know you think I’m a crazy old lady sometimes,” she began, “but I’ve learned a few things in my lifetime, things I wished I’d known at your age. Your thoughts are making you miserable, Jace. It’s your thoughts that determine how you feel, and how you feel is everything.”

“And you’re saying I can do something about that?”

“That’s the power of focus.” She studied him for a moment. “You’ve experienced it—something happens to change your focus, and suddenly you feel good.”

Jace remembered his experience at the hockey game and relayed it to Sophie. “I’d love to feel like that more often, but it doesn’t seem possible.”

“It is with focus.”

A light went on in his mind. “So you’re saying I should purposely think about what feels good and choose not to think about what makes me miserable?”

“Yes!”

Her enthusiasm caught him off guard, and he had to laugh. “Okay…positive thinking. I can see the benefit in that.”

“Oh, it’s much bigger than that, Jace,” she went on, passion still evident in her voice. “That’s where the leverage comes in. Focus means that you’re directing your thoughts on purpose. Your thoughts are like magnets, and when you learn to choose them deliberately, you have a powerful tool.”

More light seeped in. “Are you saying I can think about something and make it happen?”

“You’re already doing it.”

“I am?”

“I want you to do something, Jace,” she instructed. “Pay attention to your thoughts this week. Notice what you think about, especially how your thoughts make you feel—that’s important.”

“All right,” Jace complied. Curious now, he was willing to try Sophie’s little exercise. The woman was persuasive, her words compelling. He felt better than he had in a while. Hope began to surge as his understanding increased.
The high I had at the hockey game was short-lived and out of my control,
he realized.
But what Sophie’s talking about is different, it’s powerful.
It was the power he’d been craving. Suddenly hope turned to excitement as he caught a glimpse of what could be. “That’s what you meant by thinking like the rich do,” Jace exclaimed. “They’re attracting money and stuff by their thoughts, their focus. I get it!”