Free Beneath Beautiful by Allison Rushby Page B

kiss as she headed for the loft stairs. “It really is good to have you here.” She bent down for a last wave over the stairs as she disappeared from sight.
     
     
    “T his is beautiful, Alys. Really beautiful.” Cassie looked around her, her hand to her heart. She meant her words. The café, tucked away inside the New York Historical Society, was truly breathtaking. From its sunny yellow upholstered benches to the white wooden walls stacked high with antique china and its gleaming gold chandeliers, Cassie was in heaven. “It's just so pretty.”
    Even the slight detour they'd taken in order to walk through Central Park with all the turning leaves had been magical, despite what they had spoken about—mostly Alys's breakup with someone the month before, and the fact that Cassie hadn't had a proper date in, well, she couldn't remember how long.
    “It really is the prettiest thing,” Alys agreed. “And even better, people don't know about it. So I keep it a secret, and when they whine about the boring old Upper West Side I bring them here and show it off. I think it's much, much nicer than some grungy, cool thing where they never really clean the floor properly in the East Village.” She wrinkled her nose.
    “You always were a delightful snob. Even at school.” Cassie laughed, remembering Alys picking over many a boarding school meal, complaining dramatically that her palate would be “ruined forever”.
    “Ah, here he is!” Alys stood up and waved at someone. Cassie craned her neck to take a look, and was met with the approaching form of a guy of around their age who was tall, thin and pleasant looking, with large brown eyes and dark, cropped, super-curly hair. His clothes suggested he was an avid thrift-shopper, though it wasn't this that gave him his overall dishevelled appearance, but the fact that he seemed as if he hadn't been getting much sleep. As he walked toward them, Cassie noted he didn't seem entirely comfortable with his surroundings—it was as if he didn't quite trust himself not to break any of the china, even though it was housed safely on the walls. The other thing that she noticed, even before speaking to him, was that he had none of Cameron's presence, or confidence. But she then immediately felt bad for thinking this. She shouldn't compare two such different men. There were few people in this world whom had what Cameron had—male or female.
    “James, this is Cassie. Cassie, James,” Alys introduced the pair when James reached their table.
    Cassie took his outstretched hand. “How do you do?” she said automatically, and then felt the couple sitting at the next table glance at them.
    The threesome burst out laughing as James sat down. “I always forget how odd that sounds when you're not at home in England,” Cassie said.
    “I've given in,” Alys confessed, pulling in her chair. “I never say it anymore. It's just too embarrassing. I've gone native. These days I even do an automatic ‘you're welcome’.”
    “Shocking.” James shook his head. “Appalling, really.” He put on his best toffee-nosed accent.
    “Oh, stop it.” Alys swatted him on the arm.
    “So, James,” Cassie shifted in her seat, “Alys said you arrived yesterday. Are you here for a long time?”
    “I hope not. Just for one interview. That is, I don't have anything against New York; I've just been chasing this interview for a while now. How about you?” He caught her eye. He seemed slightly more at ease now he was seated and talking.
    Cassie adjusted her cutlery. “Oh, a few . . . meetings. That's all.” As their waitress began to hover, Cassie glanced at her menu.
    “Are we ready to order?” Alys asked, and Cassie told her and James to go first.
    After one last scan and everyone else's order taken, she was ready. “I'll have the lemon-ricotta toast, thanks. And a latte.”
    “That lemon-ricotta toast is divine. Definitely a good . . .” Alys started, but someone's phone beeped with a text.
    “Sorry,