The Perfect Christmas - Debbie Macomber [38]
Angie had offered to help with the shopping; she’d also volunteered to set the table. This was by far the most elaborate meal Cassie had ever undertaken.
Her brother, too, seemed eager to help. Luckily, Shawn was in town for a benefit and he’d promised to hand-letter the place cards. He said he’d also do small drawings on each, which were sure to be highly collectible—if any of her neighbors recognized her brother as the famous mural artist. Well, even if they didn’t, they were bound to like the personal touch.
Reading over the stuffing recipe one last time, Cassie rested her elbows on the kitchen counter.
Unfortunately, her mind kept wandering from the page. She hadn’t seen Simon since she’d visited him in his home. He’d fully recovered from his bout with the flu and gone back to work.
Cassie knew that because she’d phoned and chatted briefly with his assistant who’d told her Simon was indeed in the office. But when Ms. Snelling asked if Cassie wished to speak to him, she’d declined and hurriedly got off the phone.
Simon hadn’t called to thank her for the soup, not that she expected him to. He was coming to dinner on Sunday and she almost dreaded seeing him; at the same time, she could hardly wait.
She hardly thought of John—John the engineer, John the perfect man—anymore. Only Simon seemed to inhabit her mind. And her heart?
Something was very wrong.
The doorbell rang and Cassie left her kitchen. Angie breezed into the room as though floating on air. This wasn’t unusual these days. Her friend was in love. Angie seemed like a different person; nothing upset her, nothing annoyed her. In fact, she glowed with happiness. And yet she remained secretive about this new man in her life. Still, Cassie had begun to have her suspicions. In retrospect, the night of her solitary tree-decorating should have been a giveaway.
“You ready?” Angie asked.
“Shawn phoned earlier,” Cassie said and carefully watched her friend’s expression.
Angie revealed nothing.
“Oh, he’s in town?”
“My brother seems to have a fair amount of business in the Pacific Northwest lately,” Cassie said, playing along. “He said he was here for some benefit, but if you ask me, the one who’s benefiting is my brother.”
Angie turned away and walked into the kitchen. She set down her purse, then removed her coat and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair. “This is your menu for tomorrow?” she said, still avoiding eye contact. She studied the paper on which Cassie had written her menu ideas. “Three different pies seems a bit ambitious, don’t you think?”
“I wanted there to be choices.” It didn’t escape Cassie’s notice how quickly Angie had diverted the subject from Shawn.
“Simon agreed to come, right?”
Switching the topic to Simon was a clever move. “Yes.” Before she could expand or hint further about Shawn, the doorbell chimed again. Cassie opened the door to her brother, who hugged her enthusiastically. His eyes gleamed with a merriment that was due to more than the season, Cassie thought. When he saw Angie his expression sobered. He greeted her politely, even rather distantly.
“This dinner is becoming quite the affair,” Shawn said, handing her the place cards. The artwork—small watercolors, all individual, of Christmas trees and bells and stars—was beautiful.
“Thanks!” Cassie kissed his cheek. “Okay, you two, sit down,” she ordered. She indicated the sofa. “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I arranged for you to be here at the same time.”
Shawn and Angie took opposite sides of the sofa while Cassie stood directly in front of them, her arms crossed. “You aren’t fooling me, you know. I suspected the two of you were seeing each other.”
“We wanted to tell you,” Angie blurted out. “Well, I did, but Shawn felt we should wait.”
“We weren’t sure this was going anywhere,” Shawn explained, glancing at Angie.
“We wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while,” Angie said in a small voice, glancing back at Shawn.
“If you’re upset, blame me,” Shawn said, quick to defend Angie.
“Why wouldn’t you want me to know?” Cassie asked, directing the question