Chapter Three

 

Cara Bregante stared glumly at the cheerful bouquet of pink and white daisies, accompanied by a Minnie Mouse balloon that wished her the happiest of birthdays. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the gift her best friend Mirai had sent, but it was all just a little too – well, cute for someone who was turning twenty two today. As it was, most people Cara met thought she was still in high school, and were always startled to realize she wasn’t a teenager any longer. Most of that, of course, had to do with the fact that she was barely over five feet tall, while the rest could be blamed on her lack of makeup and the untamed mass of her dark brown curls. No matter what it took, thought Cara fiercely, one of these days she was going to cut half of all this hair off and have the uncontrollable curls straightened. The problem was – as most of her problems were these days – that every penny she earned was so tightly budgeted that there was nothing left over for luxuries like hair cuts, makeup, or new clothes. So any sort of makeover was going to have to wait another year and a half until she finally got her college degree and no longer had to pay tuition.

And Mirai’s gift also served as an unwitting reminder that the daisies and the balloon were likely to be the only gift she received today. Her boss Angela was taking her out to lunch, a gesture Cara appreciated, but if she was being completely honest getting flowers from her best friend and going out to a celebratory meal with her female employer wasn’t exactly the stuff birthday dreams were made of. Not, for example, like getting red roses and having a romantic candlelight dinner with a really hot guy. Problem was that there hadn’t been a hot guy in Cara’s life for more than two years, and the last time there’d been one it had ended – well, badly.

And it was already a foregone conclusion that she’d be receiving nothing in the way of birthday greetings from her useless father – not even a phone call or one-line email to commemorate the occasion, much less a gift of any sort. When Mark Bregante had moved to Florida four years ago to effectively start a whole new life, Cara had more or less ceased to exist for him – not that he’d ever been a model father by any means.

It would be different, she thought wistfully, if her mom was still alive. Sharon Bregante would have done her utmost to make Cara’s birthday special, as she’d done for so many years. Mother and daughter had been closer than most, definitely best friends, and when Sharon had died four years ago from the pancreatic cancer that had destroyed her body with terrifying swiftness, Cara had been devastated. At barely eighteen years old, her entire world had collapsed by losing her beloved mother, and things had only gotten worse from that point on.

But, no – she wasn’t going to dwell on the negative today of all days. If Sharon had still been alive, she would have wanted Cara to enjoy her birthday to its fullest, and Cara intended to do just that – even if it wasn’t exactly the sort of celebration most twenty-two year old women dreamed of.

Her co-worker Leah stopped briefly by Cara’s desk to give the balloon a quick flick. “Cute,” she commented in her usual semi-sarcastic tone. “Oh, and Happy Birthday. Doing anything fun to celebrate?”

Cara shook her head. “Just lunch out with Angela. The friend who sent me the flowers is visiting her father in New York right now so we’ll celebrate when she gets back. Plus I have class tonight.”

Leah grimaced, lending her features a pinched look. “I don’t know how you manage working here all day with all the stress, and then sitting through a three-hour lecture on investment strategies or risk management.”

Cara grinned. “Tonight’s class is actually on derivative securities. I usually have to down a pre-class espresso and then take sips of Red Bull every fifteen minutes to stay awake.”

Leah shuddered. “God, I definitely don’t miss college! And there was no way I could have stomached going to night school like you do. Too bad you aren’t able to attend regular classes, but I guess what you’re doing is better than nothing. Oops, gotta go, Tyler’s waving me over, which means he’s screwed something up again that I’ll have to fix. Later.”

The high-strung, over-achieving Leah scuttled away before Cara could remind her yet again that the evening classes she attended at UC Berkeley’s San Francisco Extension were the exact equivalent of what was offered during the daytime at the main campus. Leah was nice enough, but her snarky side definitely surfaced on a frequent basis, and she didn’t always bother to couch her more cutting comments diplomatically. Cara often felt beneath Leah, who was always perfectly put together with her expensive pantsuits, elegant leather pumps, and sleek auburn bob. And Leah had a real knack for putting people down, albeit in a subtle, seemingly innocent manner, and unfortunately for Cara she was more often than not the target of her co-worker’s thinly veiled insults.

“It’s because she’s so damned insecure herself,” Angela had assured Cara after overhearing one of Leah’s particularly snide comments. “I honestly don’t know what Nick was thinking of to hire a husband and wife team to work as his associates, because too much togetherness has definitely not helped that relationship. If Tyler wasn’t such a pompous ass himself I’d feel sorry for him having to deal with Leah’s bossiness and constant need for attention.”

Cara had sniffled, trying desperately not to betray how hurt she felt at Leah’s latest barb. “I’m surprised their marriage has lasted three whole years, given how much they bicker during the day.”

Angela had nodded in agreement. “They’re both ultra-competitive, and it seems to me that the two of them are constantly trying to one-up the other. It doesn’t make sense to me, but – hey, it takes all kinds, doesn’t it? My family still doesn’t get my relationship with Nick, doesn’t understand why I don’t care if we ever get married or not. Fortunately, I’m way past the point where their opinions matter very much. We may not have the most conventional of relationships, but it works for Nick and me. I wasn’t sure how it would pan out when I agreed to go into partnership with him, but it’s been great so far. Separate offices help, of course. Leah and Tyler might want to consider that one of these days.”

Nick’s married associates shared a small office adjacent to his, with two desks crammed into a space really only meant for one person. But neither of them had been willing to lower themselves by agreeing to occupy a cubicle while the other took the office, so they worked literally side by side.

Cara knew that Leah in particular had been visibly miffed when Nick had brought Angela into the group as his partner, probably because she had entertained hopes of doing the very same thing at some point in time. And while Leah had initially treated Angela with polite disdain, it hadn’t taken Angela very long to put Nick’s associate very firmly in her place. Since resuming her relationship with Nick last year, Angela’s confidence and self-assuredness had really begun to bloom, and she’d wasted no time in letting Leah know the score.

At least Nick’s PA – Deepak – was nice enough, if a little on the serious side. He and Cara worked well together, though Angela thought he tended to take advantage of Cara’s easygoing, helpful nature and pass on too much of his work to her when things got really busy. But it was hard for Cara to say no most of the time, something she knew she really had to work on.

Even now Deepak – wearing another of his nerdy argyle sweater vests over his shirt and tie – approached her desk, a thick sheaf of papers in hand.

“I need to go drop this off to the copy room,” he announced in his very precise British accent. He was of East Indian birth, but had been raised and attended school in England. “Can you please listen out for Nick’s calls for a few minutes?”

Cara nodded. “Of course.”

“Oh, and Dante Sabattini is supposed to be dropping off some signed documents. If he arrives before I return, let Nick know right away. The forms are for some new IPO due out next week so we need to get everything filed as soon as possible.”

Cara couldn’t suppress the little thrill that shimmied up her spine at the mere mention of Nick’s client’s name. As a retired professional football player, many of Nick’s clients were former athletes themselves, and most were tall, well-built, and good-looking. But none of them were anywhere near as dreamy and sexy and swoonworthy as the dark-haired, olive-skinned Dante.

From the very first time that she’d met Nick’s client – who was also one of his closest friends – Cara had found herself tongue-tied and hoping desperately that drool wasn’t running down her chin. Not only was Dante incredibly handsome – with his chiseled features, expertly cut black hair, and a panty-melting smile – but he was also extremely personable, charming, and maybe even a little bit naughty. He always had a teasing grin for Cara, always asked how her day was going, and each time she had to struggle to think of something clever to say in response – she who rarely if ever was at a loss for words. She only hoped he had no idea just how massive of a crush she had on him.

Cara was glad she’d worn one of her better outfits to work today, knowing that Angela would be taking her someplace trendy for lunch. Not that she had much of a wardrobe to speak of, but this dress was her favorite – the short-sleeved bodice of black and white stripes attached to a solid black, slightly flared skirt. The dress flattered her petite, curvy figure – the figure that was packing an extra twenty pounds and was this close to being considered chubby. The “freshman fifteen” she’d gained during her first year of college had never gone away, and she’d added a few more pounds since then. But working a stressful, demanding job during the day, going to college full time at night, studying, doing laundry, grocery shopping, and keeping her tiny apartment clean didn’t leave much time for working out or cooking healthy meals on a regular basis. Thus, losing weight had also been relegated to the “things to do after you get your degree” list, discouraging as that thought was.

But at least the little dress she was wearing hid most of what she considered her figure flaws and made her appear a bit thinner, a fact she was exceedingly grateful for considering that Dante was supposed to be making an appearance here in the office today. Cara had been disappointed to have missed him yesterday when he’d met with Nick since she had been tasked with delivering some paperwork to a client’s attorney, and had glumly resigned herself to having to wait another month before seeing him again. Deepak’s casual announcement moments ago had considerably brightened her day, and she wondered if she would have time to dash to the ladies room to check her hair and the bit of makeup she’d applied today. Deciding that she didn’t want to risk missing Dante again, she took out the small compact that Mirai had given her and quickly fluffed her hair and reapplied the deep rose lipstick, also a gift from her BFF. Mirai was a self-professed shopaholic, and almost always bought things on impulse, only to realize afterwards that what she’d bought was the wrong shade or size or something she already owned. And since she was too lazy to return most of what she bought, it was far easier to just pass things along to Cara. It was too bad, thought Cara regretfully, that her half-Japanese friend was a good four sizes smaller than she was and therefore couldn’t share discarded clothes. Otherwise, Cara would have a wardrobe to envy instead of one to pity.

Deepak returned to his desk a few minutes later, unknowingly depriving Cara of the opportunity to interact with Dante whenever he arrived. Sighing dejectedly, Cara turned her attention instead to the considerable pile of work that awaited her. Officially she worked exclusively for Angela Del Carlo, her boss of nearly two years, but lately seemed to be absorbing more and more tasks handed down by Nick Manning – Angela’s business partner and exceedingly intimidating live-in boyfriend. And if Cara had a hard time saying no to the mild-mannered Deepak when he asked for her help, there was no possible way she could refuse anything the demanding, often brusque Nick requested of her. Thus far she had resisted the urge to say anything to Angela about it, not wanting to appear as though she was whining or not willing to be a team player. She knew that Nick had initially opposed her addition to his team, but Angela had insisted that Cara was part of the deal if she was going to agree to the partnership. So it was extra important that Cara made a good impression on Nick now, to make sure he didn’t regret his decision, and hopefully score points for the future.

Cara was on a phone call with the customer service department about an issue in a client’s account when Dante arrived, but she glanced up just in time to give him a smile and a little wave. His answering grin thrilled her as it always did, and she couldn’t help staring after him as he quickly disappeared into Nick’s office. She hurried through the rest of her phone call, and had just replaced the receiver when Dante re-emerged. She smiled at him again, and while she sensed he was in a hurry and would have otherwise been on his way, he crossed over instead to her side of the aisle.

He, too, gave the embarrassingly juvenile Minnie Mouse balloon a little flick. “This wasn’t here yesterday,” he commented, indicating the vase of daisies. “So I’m guessing that means today is the day.”

She nodded, hoping that she wouldn’t start blushing as she usually did in his presence. Or stammering. Or otherwise acting like an idiot. “Uh, huh. I’m officially twenty-two today.”

“That old?” teased Dante, giving her a little wink. “You’d better start checking for gray hairs. I’ve already sprouted a few, though I’m vain enough to yank them out by the roots.”

Cara could only muster up a nervous little giggle in response before shaking her head. “I don’t think I have to worry about going gray for a few more years,” she joked. “Maybe when I turn thirty.”

“So what are your big plans to celebrate?” inquired Dante. “Bar-hopping with your girlfriends? Dinner with the family? Or more likely a hot date with your latest boyfriend.”

She had to contain herself from bursting out into semi-hysterical laughter at his seemingly innocent suggestions. Cara had neither a boyfriend or any real family to celebrate with, her only real close girlfriend was out of town, and bar-hopping had never really been her thing – even if she’d been able to afford it. Unwilling to admit any of these equally humiliating facts to Dante, she simply told him the truth.

“Angela is taking me out to lunch today. And since I have a class I need to attend tonight, that’s pretty much the extent of any celebrating I’ll be doing this year,” she acknowledged matter-of-factly.

“Class?” Dante’s brow wrinkled inquisitively. “You mean like yoga or spinning? Or what’s that Latin dance thing called – Zimba?”

Cara laughed. “I think you mean Zumba. And, no, it’s not an exercise class. It’s – well, this.”

She reached beneath her desk where she kept the ratty old backpack she’d had since her freshman year of high school, pulled out a textbook that weighed at least five pounds in her estimation, and plunked it on her desk.

“Managing Financial Risk – Guide to Derivative Products, Financial Engineering, and Value Maximization” read Dante out loud, just before emitting a long, low whistle. “Wow. Just reading that title is intimidating. You’re actually studying this stuff?”

The tone of his voice reflected both his disbelief and admiration, and Cara’s heart swelled with pride. “Yep. Working on my degree in finance. Unfortunately that process takes a little longer going to night school, but I hope to finish everything up by next summer.”

Dante was regarding her with an expression that she couldn’t quite describe – a combination perhaps of surprise, approval, and something else that she wasn’t quite able to put her finger on. “Where are you taking night classes?” he asked. “San Francisco State?”

She shook her head. “UC Berkeley Extension. I, um, attended the main campus for two years but, well, circumstances changed and I had to switch to night school after that.”

He nodded in understanding. “Yeah, Berkeley’s a tough school, that’s for sure. I had to study my ass off when I attended, especially since I had to keep my grades up in order to keep playing on the soccer team.”

Cara quickly realized that he thought she’d had to settle for night school because she couldn’t keep up with regular classes. “It is a tough school,” she agreed. “But my grades weren’t the reason I had to transfer to the extension. I – I was at the top of all my classes by the end of sophomore year.”

Dante frowned. “Then why the hell did you make that sort of change? You’d be graduating next month if you had stayed at the main campus.”

“Don’t I know it,” sighed Cara. “And, well, my financial status changed. I wasn’t able to scrape together enough financial aid to stay in school full time, so I work during the day and go to school at night. And FYI – night classes are every bit as tough as day classes.”

He chuckled. “I stand corrected, Ms. Top of Her Class. And that’s a shame about having to work full time while getting your degree. Your family isn’t able to help you out with expenses?”

Cara felt the smile disappear from her face. “No,” was all she murmured in reply. “Not any longer. I’m pretty much on my own these days.”

Dante studied her quizzically for long seconds, and she had to quell the urge to fidget while she tried desperately to interpret what thoughts might be going through his very handsome head. But she could never in a million years have anticipated what he said to her next.

“Tell you what,” he drawled almost lazily. “It’s a damned shame that a pretty girl like you isn’t doing something fun to celebrate her birthday. Do you have a class tomorrow night, too?”

Cara shook her head. “No classes on Friday, just Monday through Thursday. Why do you ask?”

Dante grinned down at her. “Because I’d like to invite you to have dinner with me tomorrow night. That is, provided you don’t already have plans. Or a boyfriend who’d object to my poaching on his territory.”

She stared at him, completely at a loss for words, and unable to believe what she’d just heard. “Huh? Are you – I mean, you’re actually asking me to – to go out with you? And, no, I don’t have a boyfriend or anyone I’m seeing, but I thought you did. I mean,” she corrected herself hastily, miserably aware that she was babbling like a moron by this point, “not that you had a boyfriend, but a girlfriend. Of course you don’t have a boyfriend, why would you, because you’re about the least likely person I could think of who - ”

Dante placed his index finger over her lips, giving a quick shake of his head. “It’s okay,” he assured her, the corners of his mouth lifting up into a smile. “I know what you meant. And to answer your question – at least, I think there was a question in there somewhere – I’m not currently seeing anyone either. I, ah, was in a relationship for a long time but that ended a couple of months ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t, um, touch on a sore spot,” she apologized awkwardly.

“It’s okay,” replied Dante gently. “I had a rough time of it for awhile, but I’m happy to say that things are finally starting to look up for me. And I’d be even happier if your answer to my invitation is yes.”

Cara beamed up at him, nodding enthusiastically. “It is definitely a yes! I’d love to have dinner with you tomorrow.”

He glanced around anxiously, as though to make sure no one had overheard their conversation. “That’s great news, Cara. Though you should probably keep it to yourself, hmm? I don’t know what the company policy is about employees socializing with clients, but no sense in rocking the boat, is there?”

“Oh! Oh, gosh, of course!” she agreed. “I won’t say anything to the others, I promise.”

Dante looked relieved, then extracted a business card from the inside pocket of his suit jacket before picking up a pen from the holder on her desk. “Why don’t you meet me in the lobby of my office building?” he suggested, scribbling something on the back side of the little card. “That way we don’t risk running into anyone here. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Cara answered with enthusiasm. “What time should I meet you?”

“Let’s say six o’clock? And I can send a car or a taxi to pick you up.”

She shook her head. “Your office is less than three blocks away, and it’s not supposed to be raining or anything tomorrow. Besides, I can use the exercise.”

He gave her one of those sexy, flirty little winks that he was wont to do whenever he stopped by the office. “I wouldn’t say that,” he replied, his dark eyes giving her a brief but all-too-assessing onceover. “You look very healthy to me, very fit.”

Cara grimaced. “That’s because I’m usually sitting down when you see me, and you can’t tell how big my ass is from where you’re standing.”

Dante gave a shout of laughter, causing Deepak to glance over in their direction, frowning at having had his concentration disrupted. Grinning wickedly, Dante lowered his voice.

“You’re very outspoken, aren’t you?” he asked in amusement. “I like that. And I have a feeling this is going to be a very interesting dinner. Now, I’ve got to run, but I wrote my personal cell number on the back of that card. Give me a call when you’re on your way tomorrow, so I can be waiting for you in the lobby.”

“Okay.” She picked up the business card and tucked it into her purse for safekeeping. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Me, too.” Dante gave the Minnie Mouse balloon another flick. “And Happy Birthday, Cara. Though consider tomorrow night the real celebration.”

He gave her a farewell wink, and she could only stare in slack-jawed admiration at the sight of his broad-shouldered frame in that expertly tailored navy pinstripe suit as he hurried off. She counted to fifty, making sure Dante was well and truly out of sight, before digging her battered cell phone out of her purse. A glance to her right revealed that Deepak was engrossed in whatever he was doing, so she quickly dialed up her best friend, almost bursting at the seams with the news she had to share.

“Mirai? Yeah, I know I already sent you an email and a text thanking you for the flowers and the balloon – by the way, I’m not five years old, you know. And I know I sent you a Hello Kitty balloon for your birthday, but you actually still like all that stuff. Now, listen up because you are so not going to believe what just happened!”