Chapter Four

Cara fumbled for the light switch as she stepped over the threshold of the in-law unit that she’d called home for close to two years now. Once the room was illuminated, she wasted no time in dropping her purse and the shopping bag she’d been carrying on the floor, then eased the frayed straps of the staggeringly heavy backpack from her tired shoulders. For a moment or two she slumped against the door jamb, so exhausted that she was having trouble remaining upright. It had been a very long day, beginning before sunrise, and now, after two bus rides home from her night class, it was drawing close to eleven p.m. If she was lucky, she’d get a full six hours of sleep before waking up and starting all over again. At least, she thought sleepily, tomorrow was Friday which meant no class tomorrow night. Instead, she would actually be going on a date for the first time in what felt like years. And not just any date, mind you, but with the gorgeous, hunky guy she’d had a massive, unrequited crush on for the past six months.

Cara was still in disbelief that Dante had actually asked her out to dinner. After all, while he had always been nice to her, had even flirted a little on occasion, he had never before given any indication that he might be interested in dating her. That had, no doubt, been due largely to the fact that he’d been in a serious relationship, at least until the recent breakup he’d alluded to.

And she knew from having overheard Leah’s overly loud gossiping that Dante’s ex had been some sort of model or actress, and that she was drop dead gorgeous. Cara couldn’t recall the ex’s name, admittedly because it had bothered her to think too much about Dante being seriously involved with someone, but she had no doubt that the woman must have been a knockout to hold his interest for a whole year.

But now it sure seemed that his relationship with this woman was over and done with, and that maybe - just maybe - Cara might have a chance with the guy she’d been fantasizing about for months. From the very first time Nick had introduced her to Dante - soon after she and Angela had moved over from their previous location in the office - Cara had been spellbound by the man. He was older than she was, of course, by at least ten years, and certainly far more mature than any of the boys she had dated these past few years. He was also sophisticated, obviously wealthy, and pretty much in an entirely different league than herself. But for some reason he was attracted to her, at least enough to ask her out to dinner tomorrow night.

‘Now, don’t go jumping to conclusions, silly,’ she scolded herself as she began to put her things away. ‘He probably just asked you out this one time because it’s your birthday and he feels sorry for you. And for all you know this isn’t even a real date, just a casual thing between friends. Or whatever we are to each other. Most likely it will just be this one time and then he’ll find a hot new girlfriend to take the place of the last one, and you’ll go back to being nothing more than his friend’s admin assistant. So prepare yourself for that, Cara - okay? Don’t start getting your hopes up or expect anything more.’

Since it was already past her bedtime, Cara quickly changed into the loose fitting nightshirt that was her normal sleeping attire, then washed up for the night. She fixed her lunch and snacks for the next day, and was about to set out work clothes for the morning when she belatedly remembered the shopping bag she’d brought home.

‘You’re such an airhead sometimes, Cara,’ she scolded herself. ‘How long has it been since you bought clothes? You think you’d remember bringing home a new dress and pair of shoes, wouldn’t you?’

She extracted the sheath dress of vivid scarlet and hung it up in her cramped, tiny closet before pulling the pair of black strappy sandals from the same bag. She ran a hand lovingly over the dress, thinking again how lucky she’d been to snag such a bargain. It was difficult for her to find pretty things in her size - a petite size ten - that weren’t too matronly or, at the opposite end of the scale, too youthful. In addition she had something of a “problem figure” to dress - with big boobs, a surprisingly tiny waist, curvy hips, and a generous booty. It was rare when she found clothes that fit well, and since she couldn’t afford expensive alterations Cara was usually resigned to wearing things that were too long or ill-fitting.

But the little red dress had fit her like a glove, and was made of some sort of rayon blend that had a bit of stretch to it. The vibrant color flattered her dark hair and the light olive tone of her skin, and she had felt both sexy and confident while inspecting herself in the dressing room mirror. The high heeled sandals had been on clearance, leaving her just enough left on the gift card Mirai had impulsively emailed over to also pick up a new set of lingerie.

Mirai had been so excited to hear about Cara’s upcoming date that she had literally screamed into the phone, loud enough for Deepak to have overheard and given Cara a scathing scowl. Cara had shushed her friend after that, but while Mirai had grudgingly modulated the volume of her voice there was no way she was going to tone down her level of excitement.

“OMG, girl, I cannot believe it!” Mirai screeched. “You’re finally going on a date after all this time, and with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Super-Hot to boot!”

Cara had discreetly snapped a photo of Dante once when he’d been chatting with Deepak, and shown it to her BFF. Mirai, who generally preferred men with blond or light brown hair, had nonetheless conceded that Dante was undeniably smokin’.

“And Italian, just like you,” she’d pointed out.

In actuality, Cara was only half-Italian on her father’s side, but she had definitely inherited his coloring. If only, she’d thought longingly on multiple occasions, she had also taken after him in body type - tall and lean and long-legged - instead of resembling her petite mother whose figure had been slightly on the plump side.

During their conversation earlier today, Mirai had quizzed Cara about what she was planning to wear on her date the next evening, a question that had caused Cara to sigh in regret.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” she’d admitted. “I’m wearing the black dress with the striped top right now so that’s out. The only other decent dress I own is the navy shirtwaist.”

Cara could almost see her friend shuddering over the phone line at the mention of that particular dress.

“No way,” Mirai had protested vehemently. “That’s the sort of dress you wear to a funeral. Or out to lunch with your grandmother. Definitely not on a dinner date with the hottest guy you know.”

“What about my black skirt?”

“The one you always seem to wear with a white blouse, that makes you look like a waitress? Uh, uh, that’s not going to work either.”

Cara had heaved a frustrated sigh. “Well, I’m fresh out of ideas. And since you’re as familiar with the meager contents of my wardrobe as I am, I’m open for suggestions - so long as buying something new isn’t one of them. I’m so short on funds right now that I can’t afford to buy milk until next paycheck. I’ve been eating dry cornflakes for breakfast all week.”

“Give me a sec, okay?” Mirai had pleaded.

There had been silence on the other end for nearly two minutes, with Cara keeping her fingers crossed that Angela wouldn’t need her for something. Fortunately Mirai had come back on the line then, sounding triumphant.

“There. All set,” she’d declared. “I just sent you an e-gift card to Macy’s. Not my favorite store at all but you’ll get more for your money there than you would at Barney’s or Nordstrom. Check your email, would you?”

“Mirai,” Cara had protested, even as she opened up her email. “You already sent me a birthday gift. A gift card is way too much, especially one for a hundred and fifty bucks. I can’t let you do this. Besides, didn’t you tell me your credit cards were all maxed out?”

“They were,” agreed Mirai cheerily. “At least until I sweet talked Daddy into paying them all off for me. He also treated me to a big time shopping spree at Saks and Bergdorf’s yesterday, and wired twenty grand into my checking account. Oh, and I charged your flowers to his account, so technically this gift card is the only thing from me.”

Cara hadn’t been able to contain an exasperated chuckle or two. “You’re kind of a brat, you know that, don’t you?” she’d asked teasingly. “Such a Daddy’s girl. You can schmooze him into just about anything, can’t you?”

Mirai had giggled in reply. “I know how to get on his good side, that’s for sure,” she’d admitted. “And since I’m staying on while he recovers from foot surgery to help him out, he’s feeling very generous right now. So quit bitching about a little gift card and go buy yourself something pretty for your date. And for God’s sake, Cara, use some of the money to get a decent set of undies, will you? Something sexy. That matches. Unlike the stuff you currently own. I think homeless women have nicer bras and panties than you do.”

“They’re not that bad,” Cara had protested weakly. “But I’ll follow orders, ma’am, and buy something pretty. Though I’m not really sure why it matters.”

“Well, duh, of course it matters, silly!” Mirai had scolded. “You’ve only got one chance to make a good first impression on the Italian Stallion, after all. And plain white cotton undies are not what you want to be wearing at the time.”

Cara had been taken aback at this. “Um, aren’t you sort of jumping to conclusions just a bit here? I mean, he asked me out to dinner - probably because he feels sorry for me. I don’t recall also hearing an invitation to have sex.”

“Trust me, sweetie, it will happen,” Mirai had assured with confidence. “Your Dante looks like the type who can show a girl a real good time in the sack. Not to mention one who needs to get his rocks off on a regular basis. So listen to your BFF, hmm? Black lace. Make sure the bra shows off those great tits of yours. And either bikinis or hipsters, definitely not boy shorts or briefs. And please promise me you’ll get up fifteen minutes early so you can shave all over?”

Cara had been laughing softly when she’d bid Mirai goodbye, needing to get back to work by then. During her birthday lunch with Angela - where she had gone out of her way not to even mention Dante, much less the fact that he’d invited her out to dinner the next evening - she had asked permission to leave work an hour early. Angela had agreed without hesitation, knowing full well that Cara frequently worked through her lunch hour, arrived at the office early, and stayed past her assigned quitting time.

She’d been lucky to find the dress and shoes at Macy’s fairly quickly, then followed Mirai’s orders and bought herself a new set of lingerie - and in black lace as instructed. Cara placed the admittedly sexy bra and panties that were far more provocative than any of her other undies on top of the narrow set of drawers that was set into an alcove of her cramped apartment.

And calling this place an apartment was being overly generous. In reality, it was one small room with a tiny bathroom, a single closet, and an efficiency kitchen. The room was an illegal in-law unit attached to an older house in a so-so neighborhood in San Francisco. The house belonged to the invalid aunt of a client of Angela’s, and it had been through that connection that Cara had found this place. It definitely left a lot to be desired, with its decades-old gold shag carpet, faded curtains, and cracked blinds that covered the single window, and its overall lack of space. But since she had practically no furniture or household goods, the limited amount of storage wasn’t a problem. In addition to the narrow dresser the small room held a futon, a coffee table, a floor lamp, and a round table with two mismatched chairs. All of the furniture was secondhand, well worn, and functional rather than attractive. There was no TV because she simply couldn’t afford cable or satellite dish fees, and precious little leisure time to watch it to boot.

At least there were several paintings, framed photographs, vases, and other decorative pieces that had been passed on from her mother, the few precious things she’d been able to salvage when her father had rather ruthlessly sold nearly the entire contents of their former home before moving to Florida with his new, very young wife.

Cara picked up a framed photo of herself and her mother, one that had been taken when she had been around thirteen, and ran a finger over the beloved face of Sharon Bregante.

“I miss you,” she murmured out loud.  “I miss you every single day but especially today - on my birthday.  I know if you were still here you would have done something special.  Even though we never had much money, you always found a way to make things special.”

She replaced the frame. “And I really wish I could talk to you tonight in particular, so I could get your advice about my date tomorrow night - the date that might not even be a real date.  I think I’d be a little less nervous if I could hear you tell me that everything was going to be fine.”

But then Cara began to recall what a disaster her parents’ marriage had been, and thought wryly that perhaps her mother might not have been the best person to offer romantic advice after all.