Market Street Read Online Free

grocery store together. It’s nauseating.”
    “Not the grocery store.” Cassie felt a little better. “The Berkeley Co-op. It’s more a gathering place, and they have the most amazing vegetables, better than anything I grow in my garden. Last week I picked up a purple eggplant from Japan. I served it on a bed of long-grain organic rice, and it was delicious.”
    “Enough.” Alexis held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear about purple eggplant, let alone eat it. That’s why you and your professor live in Berkeley, and I live in Presidio Heights. You’re made for each other. Don’t let some bottle blond coed come between you. Go home, pour a glass of Kenwood Chardonnay, show Aidan the box, and ask him where it came from.”
    Cassie stood up, testing her legs to see if they were still wobbly. For a moment she relaxed. She had had a delicious tea in the city, saw her best friend for the first time in weeks, and was going home to sit by the fire and nibble on snow peas with her husband. But then her eyes settled on the red Fenton’s box and she sucked in her breath as if she’d been slapped.
    “Cassie, go on.” Alexis followed her eyes. “You can do this.”
    “You should have your own afternoon talk show.” Cassie picked up the box. “Let’s go before I lose my nerve.”
    They took the elevator down to the parking garage. Cassie had parked in a reserved space, next to her mother’s smoky blue Jaguar XL.
    “Your mother knows how to treat herself.” Alexis peeked through the window at the spotted maple dashboard and the cream leather upholstery. There were three purses on the floor of the passenger seat: Louis Vuitton, Prada, and a Fendi clutch, and a couple of pairs of boots on the backseat.
    “Are those Chanel ostrich-skin boots?” Alexis pressed her face harder against the glass. “I’ve only seen them in Vogue. ”
    “Stop drooling, you’ll fog up the glass.” Cassie opened the door of her Prius. “Wish me luck.”
    Alexis kissed Cassie’s cheek. “Maybe I’ll ask Carter for a Jaguar for my birthday.”
    “Thanks for your support.” Cassie put the keys in the ignition.
    “You have all my love and support. Trust me, it was some silly mistake. You’ll drink Chardonnay and eat Japanese eggplant and have the best sex of the holidays.” Alexis grinned. “You’re Aidan’s angel. You’re irreplaceable.”

 
    2.
    Cassie drove across the Bay Bridge listening to Mariah Carey sing “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” She thought someone should tell the DJ Christmas was over. The sparkle, the mistletoe, the eggnog was gone and all that remained were leftovers and returns. She glanced at the red Fenton’s box on the passenger seat and considered opening her window and tossing it into the bay. But then she’d be facing Aidan empty handed.
    She flipped the radio station and heard an old Train song: “Drops of Jupiter.” Instinctively she smiled and hummed along. Train had been their favorite band when they were first married. Cassie remembered going to their concert at the Warfield theater and spending the whole night sharing Irish coffees: Aidan’s arm draped around her, her face buried in his leather jacket. When the song “Calling All Angels” was played on heavy rotation, Aidan would turn up the radio and boast that he had asked the lead singer to write the lyrics for Cassie.
    Cassie’s eyes filled with tears, and she wiped them away so she could see the cars in front of her. She rested her elbows on the steering wheel and remembered the day she met Aidan. She walked into his lecture class fifteen minutes late, and he stared at her, his fierce black eyes sizing her up, as if she was interrupting a presidential address.
    “And who is this young lady who has the courage or the bad manners to walk into my class three days and fifteen minutes late?” Aidan addressed the lecture hall.
    Cassie blushed and took a seat at the back of the class. She had heard about Professor Aidan Blake: