I am not sure why but I thought I would drop you an excerpt from the fiction I have been working on. It's still a first draft since I really need to get the entire story down before I go back and get this into any kind of real reading shape. It might not even make any sense since this occurs somewhere what is now chapter eight but that could change. It might be good to know that Cassie and Nathan are the main characters but other than that, I am not sure what else I'm supposed to tell you.
I could say if you are really not interested in reading some random, first draft excerpt from a still unfinished (but being worked on!) story then stop here.
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“I really didn’t mean to bring up work,” said Nathan. “I am really more interested in Cassie Pallas.”
Cassie dropped the napkin in her lap and let her eyes move up to Nathan. They weren’t really sitting across from each other. He was sitting closer to her than directly across so she turned her head slightly to look at him. He was smiling at her and those crystal blue eyes danced with more than she could read at one glance. She would keep studying them as long as she could. They held her entranced. She wanted to know more and Nathan Merrick was certainly someone she was more than just a little interested in.
Cassie finally shrugged and said, “I don’t know what you could find interesting.”
“Really? Then I have a confession to make. I have been interested since I saw you that first time in the deli.”
Cassie paused for a moment and looked into those eyes again. They weren’t hiding any signs of mocking and had turned a slightly darker shade. Or was that her imagination? She shrugged again and tried to play it off. “Then I guess I must confess. I thought you were pretty interesting myself.”
“Hmmm,” he said. “I thought so.”
“You thought so.”
“Yes.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I don’t seem to be wrong. You just admitted…”
“Well, yes, but…”
“But…what? It doesn’t seem we were reading each other wrong, now does it?" Nathan said. "I think we might have been thinking along the same lines.”
“You’re talking about the wine again. I was considering both bottles, that's true. But I had already decided I was going to take the Merlot before you chose the Claret and not the other way around.”
“Yes, certainly. I’m talking about the wine, of course.” Nathan took a sip of his water as Cassie watched. She knew he wasn’t talking about the wine. She knew he was talking about their first encounter and how she had reacted when she first saw him. She wanted to explain how she didn’t normally act that way with strangers but knew there was no way of explaining it. She found it uncomfortable for him to talk about it out loud and for him to admit it was the same for the both of them.
Nathan put the water down and asked, “Tell me something about Cassie besides her liking wine. How did you get into the fashion business?”
Cassie smiled. It was her turn to sip some water and when she placed the glass down again she took a deep breath. “Well, you see,” she started, “I have a very indulgent father.”
“Oh, you do? Your father? I would have thought your mother might have spurred your interest in fashion. ”
Cassie looked down and her smile diminished. There was that pang in her heart again. When would she stop having that feeling? Why did she still feel it randomly when she was made to face the loss of her mother? It had been so very long ago. The oddest part was that she didn’t feel it every time someone brought it up anymore. It only seemed to hit her when she might have to reveal it to someone important. When had Nathan become important?
Nathan reached over and lifted her chin with his finger so she was looking at him. “Did I bring up another bad subject?” he asked.
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Cassie finally shrugged and said, “I don’t know what you could find interesting.”
“Really? Then I have a confession to make. I have been interested since I saw you that first time in the deli.”
Cassie paused for a moment and looked into those eyes again. They weren’t hiding any signs of mocking and had turned a slightly darker shade. Or was that her imagination? She shrugged again and tried to play it off. “Then I guess I must confess. I thought you were pretty interesting myself.”
“Hmmm,” he said. “I thought so.”
“You thought so.”
“Yes.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I don’t seem to be wrong. You just admitted…”
“Well, yes, but…”
“But…what? It doesn’t seem we were reading each other wrong, now does it?" Nathan said. "I think we might have been thinking along the same lines.”
“You’re talking about the wine again. I was considering both bottles, that's true. But I had already decided I was going to take the Merlot before you chose the Claret and not the other way around.”
“Yes, certainly. I’m talking about the wine, of course.” Nathan took a sip of his water as Cassie watched. She knew he wasn’t talking about the wine. She knew he was talking about their first encounter and how she had reacted when she first saw him. She wanted to explain how she didn’t normally act that way with strangers but knew there was no way of explaining it. She found it uncomfortable for him to talk about it out loud and for him to admit it was the same for the both of them.
Nathan put the water down and asked, “Tell me something about Cassie besides her liking wine. How did you get into the fashion business?”
Cassie smiled. It was her turn to sip some water and when she placed the glass down again she took a deep breath. “Well, you see,” she started, “I have a very indulgent father.”
“Oh, you do? Your father? I would have thought your mother might have spurred your interest in fashion. ”
Cassie looked down and her smile diminished. There was that pang in her heart again. When would she stop having that feeling? Why did she still feel it randomly when she was made to face the loss of her mother? It had been so very long ago. The oddest part was that she didn’t feel it every time someone brought it up anymore. It only seemed to hit her when she might have to reveal it to someone important. When had Nathan become important?
Nathan reached over and lifted her chin with his finger so she was looking at him. “Did I bring up another bad subject?” he asked.
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That's all you get. Pretty spare, I guess, considering this is about 569 words out of the close to 37,000 words I have already written on this story. I am bound and determined to finish the story soon. I am getting to really like these people since they have been showing me a little better who they are. Crazy talk. I know. But you read for yourself where they were talking to each other.
Didn't you?
TT
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