She was only here to be led to the Met stage and drenched in pig’s blood before the night was out.
She was spending too much time on the movie channels.
Oliver leaned close to her ear.
“I like it, too. From time to time.”
She met his eyes and expected a smirk. But his smile only grew warmer. Cassandra returned his grin. And she believed him.
She laughed.
“Thought it’d be too common for you.”
Oliver fell back with his own laugh and folded his hands behind his head.
“Common? Hardly. I enjoy the taste. And you like it. You’re not common.”
She liked the way it sounded. He was telling her everything that she needed to hear. It felt nice to be understood. By someone other than Iris. Oliver moved forward in his seat and touched her face.
“No. Not at all.”
Cassandra had yet to drink, but her head was already whirling every which way. She had to keep herself on point. She should ignore the beer when it ultimately arrived.
She took his hand and lowered her stare to his thighs. Was he a runner? What was he running away from?
And she was back to playing the part he paid for.
“You’re very sweet. All… this. And the opera too? I’m game.”
Was it too much?
The beers arrived. Oliver tipped the server generously and handed Cassandra a frosty glass. She seized it and drank quickly. Oliver laughed.
“You are game. Good. I like a girl who knows what she needs.”
And Cassandra did. She needed to reach the end of the night. She needed money to pay her mounting bills. She needed…
Oliver downed all there was of his beer in a single gulp.
“Ithink you needthe opera. I saw your profile.”
Cassandra felt that she was nearing familiar ground.
She set her glass down.
“Yes. Loveit. You?”
She was challenging him to speak plainly. This wasn’t foreplay and all that in entailed. He wanted her for the gala. And Cassandra had dressed for the occasion. She was ready for a night of expertly scored Italian text and a hopeless romance. Even if this promised to be the latter.
But she did like his eyes.
Oliver moved closer. He draped his arm around the back of her seat. She waited for his fingers, but he kept them from her skin.
He sat back and snapped his fingers.
“Quick. Favorite opera?”
She could answer the question. Easily La Boheme . A chance encounter. Doomed from the start. But what love before fate and disease reared their heads. It was too obvious. In every way. La Boheme was beautiful. But clichéd. She had to be smarter if she was to plead her case.
“ Peter Grimes .”
Oliver surveyed her with a bemused stare.
”Really? Why?”
She had to talk fast.
“Because… because it’s… it’s a story of one man against impossible circumstances.”
Oliver’s face went vacant. Cassandra was terrified that she had done the wrong thing. And for the first time, it wasn’t about the money. She felt as if she had struck where she could hurt. And she hated what she had done.
Thankfully, his smile returned. He set his glass down and slapped his hands together.
“Nice. Already on my page.”
Cassandra drank again. He liked what she was saying. He liked her.
Oliver reached for her face. His hand was warm and hard against her skin. Cassandra fixed her stare on all of his face. She could see the lines starting to form around his eyes. They were wrought with obvious worry. But she didn’t know where the anguish came from. A part of her was too scared to comprehend the source.
Cassandra caught all of the sadness. Something had happened to him. Something that forced him to lease Ladies on a website when he was obviously able to turn actual heads outside of the virtual realm with his money and his power. And his looks . She could imagine him as a boy. But he was more attractive as a man .
Oliver was on his feet. He eased Cassandra to his side. She forgot what was left of her beer.
He wasbeautiful.
Oliver held her hand.
“I like what you have to say, Cassandra. Care to join me at a