Page 1 of Mistletoe Mischief

Roger

Roger looked aroundat the crazy ass lights strung throughout the room at the Frog Dog bar, but they didn't shine nearly as bright as the woman beside him.

As far as he was concerned, Cassandra Jones was the epitome of every black man's dream. Lush, unblemished, golden caramel skin glowed in the soft light of the bar, but her eyes sparkled like diamonds. They were unique, toffee gold shot with shards of antique jade, and deeper than they seemed. He’d never seen anything like them. Her gaze followed his every movement as if she couldn’t look away.

Roger was used to being looked at. Between the prosthetic myoelectric right arm and the heavy scars on his neck, there was a lot to look at. Used to be women would scope him out because he was damn hot, but he didn't believe that was the case anymore. As realistic as the arm prosthetic was, it still stood out like a sore thumb, no pun and no lie.

But… Cassandra didn’t seem to mind the prosthetic. She'd explored every inch of it she could see, asking him questions about the realistic looking thermoplastic skin of his hand and the way the elbow joint moved, how strong the grip was. The arm itself was cutting edge technology and the updated electrodes made the movements more natural. He was very thankful that he’d been in the beta program to test it out through the local VA hospital.

Roger answered everything as naturally as he could, though he watched for anything negative in her intelligent eyes. It wasn't everyday you met a man that had had his arm blown off by an IED. But so far he’d only seen honest curiosity in her expression.

He'd gotten very used to seeing the negative. Any time he was out on the street, some idiot had to make a big deal about his arm. The really special, super sensitive snowflakes justhadto turn his disability into a political issue and that really pissed him off. He'd gotten very good at raising the middle finger on his prosthetic hand.

Cassandra leaned into his line of sight. "Where did you go?"

"Sorry, baby. You're taking all of this," he lifted his arm slightly, "very well. Why is that?"

She shrugged and glanced down the bar. Chad had just come out in that damn Santa suit and was playing up to the little ones. Cassandra smiled as she watched them, her eyes sad.

"My little brother Andre was killed in Afghanistan three years ago. Friendly fire accident. He’d only been in the Army a couple of years."

Roger winced. "Oh, damn. I'm sorry."

She shrugged again. "He knew it was dangerous when he went in, but he still did it. He wanted to get out of our old neighborhood, so he did. And besides,” she continued, taking a swallow of beer, “I get looks all the time for my size. I don’t throw stones. Everybody has something they’re insecure about.”

Roger frowned, mystified. “What about your size? I think you’re fucking beautiful.”

She snorted, looking at him out of the corners of her eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

Daring to reach out, knowing he was probably overstepping his first-date bounds, he took her chin into his left hand and looked her in the eye. “I think you’re beautiful,” he told her firmly.

There was a flicker of something in her gaze, like the night had just taken on a different kind of connotation. Had she expected him to just blow her off? Had men actually treated her like that before?

Such somber thoughts for a first date.

"So how did you get my name?" he asked finally.

After a long, pregnant moment, she grinned fully for the first time since she'd sat down and Roger had to catch his breath. It had been a long time since he'd basked in that kind of sunshine. "A friend of mine talked to you at work and thought we would be a good pair. I work at the advertising company next door to Baker and Company."

"Ah, okay,” Roger nodded. “Yeah, we worked a case there not too long ago. Somebody was helping themselves to the electronics the company was developing."

Cassandra hummed in agreement, tucking her curly black hair behind her ear. It just brushed her shoulders. Roger noticed that she had two ear piercings down low, and one up higher in the shell of her ear. A diamond winked in the light. It was in a place that he wanted to tease.

"Yes, and being a start-up,” she told him, “they didn't have the money to lose if that prototype had been complete. You guys did a good job catching him."

Roger could tell her he had been the one who had put the details together, but he didn't want to sound boastful. "Did you know the guy that was arrested?"

She shook her head. "Nah. We'd done advertising for the company, but we’d worked with other people."

"Who was your friend? The set-up guru."

"Brenda Logan. She works in the front office and we like to go to lunch together. She knew I hadn’t been out with anyone in a while and she was just busting at the seams to tell me about you."

Roger laughed, remembering the older woman. "The cat lady."

Cassandra laughed and nodded. "Oh, yes, the cat lady. I think she's slimmed down her herd but she still has way too many."

"She seemed to have a good heart though."

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