Page 73 of Turn

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

By the time I reached the restaurant where I was meeting Parker I’d changed my mind and wished I’d turned down his invitation.

“Hey, Cassie. It’s Parker. I was just feeling kind of down and wondered if you wanted to meet up this evening. No pressure, just to hang out, maybe eat some nachos.”

He sounded kind of low and maybe a little desperate so I agreed to meet him at this restaurant called Baca’s. Parker said it was a new place two blocks away from Mill Avenue. I figured it would be crawling with college students so close to the university but I didn’t realize until I walked in that it was no restaurant, just a dimly lit bar.

It was fairly early and not completely dark yet so the crowd wasn’t too heavy. The theme was somewhat tropical with fake palm trees and reggae music but even at first glance I could tell the place was nothing special. Just another small, gimmicky bar that had popped up to cater to the rowdy college crowd. I wasn’t a huge fan of bars and usually limited myself to one drink, if that.

“Cassie.” A hand circled my waist and Parker was right there smiling down at me. “You made it. Damn, you look great.”

I was still wearing the same clothes I’d worn to work, just a plain skirt and t-shirt. Nothing sexy about it. I had plenty of cute dresses in my closet at home and I’d had more than enough time to stop there and change. But instead I had chosen to dawdle at a used bookstore and get some iced coffee from their cafe. There was no reason to impress Parker. This meant nothing, just a casual get together with a semi-friend, a way to pass a few hours out in the world rather than sitting at home and trying not to stare at Curtis.

Parker’s hand was still on my waist. I shrugged right out of his grip so there wouldn’t be any confusion about what was happening tonight.

“Do they have food here?” I asked because I’d been expecting to binge on happy hour appetizers and my stomach was growling.

“Food?” Parker said, as if he was confused about why I was asking. “Doesn’t look like it unless you count the pretzel bowls. Let’s go find a table. I see an empty one in the corner.”

I resisted. “Why don’t we just go sit at the bar?”

Parker made a face. “It’s loud over there and I don’t see many seats.” He took my hand and pulled me over to the empty table.

“Much better,” Parker said when he sat down and flashed a charming smile.

I didn’t agree but I figured since I was already here I’d just hang out for a little while and then make my escape. Perhaps on the way home I could stop by Pancake Buffet and grab a takeout plate.

Parker was still smiling at me. “You don’t know how glad I am that you came out tonight.”

“Thanks for the invite,” I said politely. “Have you been here before?”

“A few times,” he said and snapped his fingers at a passing waitress. “Give me a beer, whatever the house brew is. What’ll you have, Cassie?”

“Just a soda.”

Parker raised an eyebrow. “A soda?”

“Yeah, I tend to be kind of a lightweight and I’ll need to drive home. Plus I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

Most guys would have gotten the hint and offered to go somewhere else but the inference went right over Parker’s head.

“I’m fine with driving you home,” he said. “I’ll even arrange to get your car home.”

“That’s okay,” I said in a firm voice.

Parker’s smile faltered but he didn’t argue further.

“So, Cassie.” His fingers brushed across the back of my hand. “What’ new?”

“Since you saw me in statistics class the other day? Nothing.” I was reminded of something Debra had said though. “Hey Parker, did you go to college while you were in Nebraska?”

He seemed to find the question strange. “I was working on my uncle’s cattle ranch. Didn’t I mention that?”

“You did. Never mind. I was just curious. So what do you want to study at school? I don’t imagine you’re going to major in statistics.”

Parker didn’t want to answer the question. He wanted to touch my hand again. “When I was staying at the ranch I got to know my Aunt Becky. She considers herself a spiritualist, or whatever you want to call it. Believes in astrology and palm readings. She taught me a few things.” Parker turned my hand over and ran a fingertip lightly across the lines on my palm. My initial impulse was to yank my hand away but the light touch of his fingers actually felt good, slightly ticklish, not at all threatening.

Parker studied my palm. He ran his thumb over the flesh at the base of my thumb. “This is your passion mound.”

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