I was more surprised at Cassie telling him what I favored than I was at receiving the gift. I couldn’t get used to the idea of them spending much time talking about me.
“You look beautiful. That’s quite a dress, and I love what you had done to your hair.”
The way his eyes moved over my body and the way he smiled made me very self-conscious. I held the box of candy against my breasts, covering my cleavage because his gaze seemed locked on that. When he widened his smile, I felt silly being so modest. What did I expect when I put on this dress? I blushed, and my heart did little flip-flops when I looked at myself in the mirror the first time I put it on. It still amazed me that Cassie, who was so critical of the way girls dressed to go to school, would have chosen this dress for me.
I stepped back so he could enter.
“Something smells really good, and I don’t only mean your delicious perfume,” he added, which only made me feel more nervous.
“Cassie’s been preparing all day. She finally decided on surf and turf. She likes to marinate the filet for hours and hours, and she’s made special couscous. No one steams vegetables as well as she does, and there’s this dessert …”
I saw from the amused look on his face that I was babbling, and stopped.
“Your father told me what a great cook she is. I skipped lunch today so I could make a pig of myself.” He looked around. “This is an amazing house.”
“Cassie wants me to start you on the tour. She’ll be right out,” I said.
“Thank you.”
I led him into the living room first and began to explain the portraits. I told him the story of Asa Heavenstone but didn’t mention how his father had died. After I described our furniture and why Mother loved this style, I showed him her artifacts, her collected pieces from Spain, Hungary, and England. He seemed very impressed and told me I was as good a guide as any he had met.
“After all, this house is historic. I do feel as if I’ve entered a museum, although,” he added quickly, “it does have a warm, lived-in feeling. Your mother made wonderful choices.”
“She spent most of her time in this room,” I said, gazing at the settee on which she would sit for hours and hours reading. “Let me show you the den.”
“This is my kind of room,” he said when I took him to the den. He admired all of Daddy’s electronics and told me it was all high-end. He loved the leather furniture and thought our collection of movies and CDs was quite extensive.
“My mother only liked to see films here. She loved this room as much as my father does,” I told him.
“I can see why.”
As I took him toward Daddy’s office, Cassie joined us, and he gave her the roses. I showed her my box of candy.
“How thoughtful. Thank you, Porter. Semantha, why don’t you put these in a vase for me and put it on our dining-room table? You can get the salad ready to serve and open one of the bottles of wine I have out so it can air.”
I nodded, and she led him on to see the rest of the house. They were gone for a good fifteen minutes. The moment I heard them coming down the stairs, I brought out the salad.
“What a beautiful dining room and table,” Porter said, standing back to admire it. “Where was the set made, Semantha?” he asked with a tight smile, as if we shared secrets.
“Spain.”
“I thought so,” he said. “We don’t sell furniture this expensive, of course, but I know something about it.”
“You’d better. We’re slowly going to upgrade our merchandise,” Cassie told him.
Cassie had set her place where Daddy normally sat and had me on her right and Porter on her left. When she moved to her seat, Porter rushed to pull her chair out for her and then mine.
“May I?” he asked, reaching for the wine.
“Please do,” Cassie said. “Semantha is having wine with us tonight.”
“Good,” he said, and poured our glasses and his own.
Cassie leaned over to whisper.“I forgot to tell you to bring out the bread. And bring the olive oil, too.”
I jumped up and quickly fetched them. She had the bread all sliced, with a touch of garlic, in the bread warmer. Porter was up again to pull out my chair as soon as I had returned. Cassie nodded at me as if to say, This is what a gentleman is like. Get used to it.
I had wondered what we would all talk about, but Cassie answered that almost immediately when she continued to talk about the Heavenstone Stores, especially the one Porter was in. She praised him, but I could see that he was far more pleased with how critical she was of the store’s manager. Porter was his assistant. When she started to discuss her financial analysis of the store in dry details and he responded, I felt invisible. I drank my glass of wine before Cassie and I went into th