Turning her attention back to him, she shook her head. “No. Just got distracted. I’m having a good time. I was wondering how my kids are doing.”
“Miss them?”
She nodded and then shrugged. “I’m still adjusting to them being on their own.”
“Think they might come back to Divine when they’re done with school?”
“Joseph loves Divine, so he might,” she said with a smile, “but I want him to follow his heart. Tamara is still undecided. For a while she wanted to be a massage therapist, but then she decided to enroll at Texas State. I want her to have options. There will always be a place for her here. Tell me about your work.”
He told her about the restaurant and its eccentric owner, and she loved listening to him go on about his kitchen and his staff.
“It sounds wonderful. I can just see you in your chef’s uniform with your hat and a big wooden spoon in your hand, everyone scurrying around you yelling, “Yes, Chef!” while you rule the roost from your enormous Viking stove.”
He shrugged self-effacingly and said, “It’s probably pretty mundane to most people.”
Not to someone who’s envisioning you in your underwear in front of that stove, handsome. She inhaled sharply and choked on her own spit, and he patted her back. Where had that come from? Violet and her lumberjack fantasies must be influencing her—that or it was a rush of hormones. Totally blaming the hormones. And the image of him in his briefs and chef’s hat, making me crepes!
A wave of heat washed over her, made even more intense by the crowd of people on the dance floor. Now was an awesome time for a hot flash. Simply awesome. “Maybe I’d better go get something cool to drink,” she said as she fanned herself.
“You’re a little flushed, honey. Is it a hot flash?”
She blinked and then nodded. “You know about those?”
He chuckled as he handed her his folded handkerchief and guided her back toward the table. “I’m a man of the new millennium, sweetheart. Can I get you a bottle of water or a Sprite?”
She fanned her cheeks and considered asking for a fire extinguisher. “Anything cold and non-alcoholic would be fantastic, if you don’t mind. The alcohol makes the flushing worse. They come out of nowhere just to remind me I’m past my prime.”
Why did I say that? How pathetic I must sound.
Ivan halted halfway back to the table, away from the crowd, and tipped her chin up as he gazed at her. “Past your prime? I wonder what Samson would say if he knew you felt that way.”
“But you won’t tell him, will you?”
Ivan shrugged noncommittally and gently squeezed her upper arms. “You’re not past your prime. This is your renaissance, gorgeous. It’s your time. And ours.”
With that, he guided her back to the table, his words echoing in her head. Ours. Ours. Ours.
Ours, who?
Did he mean his and Samson’s? Or his, Samson’s…and hers?
* * * *
“You okay, Cassandra?” Samson asked when Ivan escorted her back to their table and helped her into a chair.
She smiled and fanned herself as she sipped from a glass of ice water. “I just got thirsty and needed to catch my breath.”
The crowd had packed the place, and he nodded as he looked around. He wanted to get her out of there so they could talk to her, but he didn’t want her to miss out on seeing their friends, like Andrew Portman, who’d flown out especially for the reunion from Orlando, Florida. Andrew had explained his wingman status while she’d been on the dance floor, and Samson hadn’t been surprised she’d stood with him when his ex-wife had arrived earlier. He also felt a little guilty she’d borne the brunt of Dorene’s ugliness without them there.
Lydia returned from the buffet line with plates laden with slices of cake, and she grinned at Cassie. “I can tell this is yours, Cassie. One of these days I’m going to convince you to tell me what your secret is.”
Cassie’s eyes sparkled at the compliment. “Thanks! Come over sometime and I’ll show you. I’m making the cake for Violet’s wedding on Saturday.”
Samson caught Ivan’s glance and frowned. “You’re busy next weekend?”
Cassandra nodded. “I stay pretty busy in the fall. But the wedding is in the early afternoon, so I should be free for the evening.” She sipped her drink, and then her gaze fluttered to his before looking away.
“Will you save that evening for us?”
“I will,” she replied, her eyes twinkling as she took another sip of her ice water.
“Ivan,” Lydia called from across the big square table. “You look familiar to me, but I’m not sure from where.”