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“Please don’t tell me something I don’t want to hear,” Tammy groaned with regret. “Good Lord. What happened?”
Might as well take the bull by the horns. Cassie sucked in a breath. “Mike brought me home. Shep took you home?”
Again … silence.
“Did you hear me? Tammy?”
“I heard you. Shep brought me home? Were you with us?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think? What the hell do you mean, you don’t think?” She shrilled. Cassie flinched. Tammy sounded ready to go off the deep end. And Cassie couldn’t reassure her.
“I don’t remember,” she said miserably. “We both were out of it. Mike told me.”
“Mike? When did … Is he there now?”
Cassie scooted back and planted her feet on the bed. “Yes.”
“Damn. Why couldn’t I get that lucky? And you’re on the phone with me?”
Cassie nodded, not even thinking that Tammy couldn’t see her.
“Now I understand. You called me to see if Shep was still here. Well, I’ll be damned. A chance at a fireman and I blew it. Drunk. Just my luck. How will I ever live that one down?”
She sounded so disappointed Cassie wanted to cheer her. But had no idea how. Especially not knowing what had happened between Shep and Tammy. It sounded like Tammy didn’t even know.
“Oh, noooo,” Tammy wailed. “What if I got sick? Oh God, Cassie.”
She’d had those same thoughts earlier. “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s over now. We did what we did.” It was easier to calm her friend than to appease her own anxiety. “You really don’t remember?”
“Do you?” Tammy countered.
“If Mike hadn’t been here, I’d be at a total loss. I have no memory of leaving the place or how we got home.”
“Shep didn’t bother to hang around, so I must have repelled him.” Tammy sounded so down, Cassie’s heart went out to her.
“Don’t even think that. Mike said Shep was a gentleman. The kind of guy who would take you home and leave without taking advantage.”
“Just what I need. A good Samaritan.”
What Tammy needed—and deserved—was a good man. “You’ve got more spirit than that. Once you feel better, things will be more clear. You’ll bounce right back to your bubbly self.”
“You’re right. I don’t like pity parties. Thanks for the info dump. I’m going to take a shower and rejoin the living. I’ll call later when my head is clear. Or you can call me after your man leaves.”
“He’s not my—”
The line went dead. Tammy had hung up. Cassie stared at the screen, then tossed the phone on the night table.
She needed a shower.
She padded to the bathroom and avoided the mirror. She turned on the water and stepped inside the tiled-shower stall. Warm water sluiced over her body, revitalizing the lax nerves under her skin, but when she stuck her face under the spray, the streaming beads felt like needles poking her sore head. She hoped the concoction Mike gave her worked, although she shouldn’t really complain—it hadn’t tasted that bad.
A strong cup of coffee. That’s what she needed.
She picked up a bar of soap and inhaled the crisp, clean scent. It helped to clear her head and stimulate some energy. Maybe by the time she washed her body, her headache would be mild enough for her to try washing her hair.
Fifteen minutes later, she opened the bathroom door, allowing steam to escape into her bedroom, and noticed a mug sitting on her night stand. You had to love a guy that brought you coffee. She padded to the bed and sat down before picking up the cup. She slowly inhaled. The scent of fresh Columbian beans floated through her nose to her formerly fuzzy mind. Her taste buds anticipated the pleasure of a good cup of brewed java. She took a sip. A little milk, just the way she liked it.
