Four Seconds to Lose (Ten Tiny Breaths, #3)(65)

Is it the same?

Who decides?

Resting his elbows on the table and leaning in closer to me, he asks quietly, “Do you want to talk about what happened between us and what it means?”

I hadn’t expected him to bring it up so abruptly and boldly. Stalling with a long, slow sip of my wine, I finally manage to get out, “Are you always so direct?”

That earns a sheepish smile. “I don’t do small talk well.” His finger trails around the rim of his glass. “It seems like a waste of time.”

“It can be,” I agree. In the case of Cain and me, this couldn’t be more true. There is a clock ticking for us and it is going to stop.

Tomorrow.

Will it bother Cain when I leave? Will he be upset with me if I don’t say goodbye? Should I tell him? Maybe I should let him know that I won’t be around much longer, so he knows this can’t turn into anything—

“Cain! What a pleasant surprise.” The female voice next to our table catches me completely off guard and I let out an exhale, not realizing I had been holding my breath. I turn to find a tall redheaded woman with shiny pink lips and creamy skin standing next to us, her eyes locked on Cain.

His expression doesn’t give anything away, but the four-second pause sure does. He’s shocked to see this woman and, though I can’t be sure, he may not be happy. “Larissa.” Pulling his chair out, he stands to place a kiss on each cheek. “What are you doing in Miami?” He’s completely polite, but I catch the slightest strain in his tone.

If I had to guess, I’d say the woman is in her early thirties. By her Manolos and her designer suit, she’s got money. By the way she’s smiling at Cain right now, she has good taste in men.

By the hardening in my stomach, I think she’s had a taste of Cain.

She certainly doesn’t look like a woman who has ever graced the stage of Penny’s before.

Her manicured finger points toward a building across the water, on the other side of the bay. “My firm did the interior design for the new luxury hotel that opened this weekend. I needed to show my face. It was a big thing in the media.”

Her firm. Yeah, she’s got money, all right.

“I left you a voice message yesterday to let you know I’d be in town. Didn’t you get it?” The way her head cocks to the side and her hand reaches out to graze his forearm, I no longer question whether she and Cain have had some sort of relationship. I know it.

And now I see the kind of woman that normally attracts Cain. Neither the real me nor the Charlie Rourke version of me plays in her league. It makes me wonder why I’ve gotten his attention at all. Is this still because I remind him of Penny?

Clearing his throat, Cain takes a step back from her and gestures to me. “Larissa, this is Charlie.”

I have to consciously unclench my jaw as green eyes turn to dissect me, flittering over my hair, lingering on my dress and my shoes for too long. I, too, am wearing a pair of Manolos, along with a simple and sexy black strapless dress from a high-end New York designer—both gifts from Sam. There’s nothing cheap about what I’m wearing.

And yet she sneers anyway.

“Charlie . . . cute.” By the haughty look on her face, I know that “cute” means something entirely different and not at all pleasant. And by Cain’s clenched jaw and the apology in his eyes, I can tell he sees it as well. “Is it short for anything?”

I wonder when he was with her last. I wonder when he’ll be with her next. That thought fills my stomach with dread. But I won’t show those thoughts.

“Nope. Just Charlie,” I say, leaning back in my chair as if completely at ease, offering a smile of my own. A smug smile that says, “I’m having dinner with the man you want to be with and as far as you know, we’re doing it like rabbits when we get home.” And, if that’s not clear enough, I turn to Cain and say sweetly, “I’m sorry, babe. I turned your phone off before bed last night. I didn’t want us to be disturbed.”

I’m not sure how he’s going to take that, but the devil inside me doesn’t care.

Cain clears his throat for a second time and sits down. He winks at me before taking a sip of his wine, that smile hiding behind it again.

But this woman either hasn’t taken the hint or is too full of herself to accept it. “So how do you know each other?”

Cain’s tongue darts over his top lip—a sign that he’s annoyed. He’s annoyed by her questioning. Or her, in general. Or both. “Charlie works for me.”

Awesome. Now “Design Firm” Larissa can properly gaze down her nose at me.

“Really? You don’t seem like the type to be in investment banking.”

Her eyes are on Cain, so she can’t see that my mouth drops open momentarily. Investment banking? Is that what she thinks he does? Apparently, I’m not the only one who leads an alternate life.

Cain is watching me like a hawk now. He must be wondering if I’ll play along. “I guess looks can be deceiving. And I assist Cain with the office work.”

“Assist?” An amused smirk touches her lips, her eyes drifting over my frame again but in a different way now. An inquisitive way.

In my peripheral vision, I see Cain’s lips curl in as he inhales sharply and I wonder what that’s about. Thankfully, the server comes with our meal, breaking up the awkwardness. “I’m here until Monday, Cain, so if you’d like to give me a call we can catch up. My assistant’s in town, as well. I’m sure she’d love to see you.” That’s an inside joke with sexual undertones if I’ve ever heard one.