Harrison snorted. “She’ll have crème brûlée.” He placed his hand behind her chair and leaned closer. “Are you really going to avoid your favorite dessert just to spite me?”
Cassandra sniffed but didn’t reply.
“Remember when we couldn’t afford more than one dessert and we shared it once a week back in film school?” the other man asked.
“You two knew each other in film school?” What rock was he living under? Roper wondered. And what else was his mother hiding?
“Mom, you’re holding out on us,” Ben said. “Did you and the director here have a thing going on back then?” he asked, chuckling.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to share personal information at the table,” Roper said to his sibling.
The waiter conspicuously cleared his throat. “Would anyone else like to order something?”
“I’ll have a decaf cappuccino,” Amy replied quickly, probably to kill the oncoming argument between the brothers.
“Espresso,” Roper added.
“Regular coffee,” Ben said.
“And two crème brûlées?” the waiter asked, double-checking with Harrison and Cassandra as he collected the small menus.
To Roper’s surprise, his mother nodded. “That’s fine,” she said with an obviously forced sigh.
She’d caved in to the director. It didn’t matter that the subject was something as insignificant as dessert. Cassandra had given in. Now that he’d witnessed her relationship with Harrison Smith firsthand, Roper knew why his mother was running scared.
The man didn’t cater to Cassandra’s prima donna whims and he didn’t put up with her nonsense. He also knew her a lot better and perhaps more intimately than anybody had guessed. Just because Ben had asked his tacky question at the wrong time didn’t mean he was wrong. Something deeper than an argument over a role was going on between these two.
With the waiter gone, Ben leaned forward, elbows on the table. “So you two have a history?”
“Your mother didn’t tell you?” Harrison asked.
Cassandra visibly squirmed in her seat.
Ben shook his head. “No, Mom’s been holding out.”
Roper opted to add his thoughts. “Frankly, I thought you wanted her for the role in your pilot because of her past body of work,” Roper said.
“That’s one reason. Your mother is talented. But we also go way back to our days as struggling artists. Remember, Cassie?”
Roper nearly choked on his water.
“Cassandra,” she corrected him, her haughty tone returning.
“Cassie!” Ben laughed loudly. “That’s really something else.” He grinned, enjoying his mother’s discomfort.
Roper wasn’t. He was confused by the interaction and worried about his mother’s ability to handle Harrison. On the other hand, Harrison dealt with his mother extremely well. Roper was beginning to like and appreciate the man for that reason alone.
He glanced at Amy. She sat beside him and had remained quiet for most of the meal, watching the dynamics around the table much as Roper had. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t been intensely aware of her the entire time. She smelled delicious, her perfume a subtle but constant reminder of the always simmering attraction between them.
“It’s not Cassie, Benjamin, and you know it,” Cassandra finally said. “So behave
.”
Harrison grinned. “She’s always been Cassie to me.” His cell phone rang, and after checking it, he glanced up. “Would you excuse me for a minute? It’s my daughter and she wouldn’t call if it weren’t important.”
Roper nodded. He’d appreciate a minute or two with his mother without the other man’s imposing presence.
“Well, well,” Ben said, catching his mother’s wandering gaze. “You’ve been keeping secrets.”