Four Seconds to Lose (Ten Tiny Breaths #3)(65)
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.
Forget Cain being annoyed. I’m damn annoyed now. She’s taking up my precious time with him. Without even thinking, I reach forward to clasp Cain’s hand and lock eyes with him. To my pleasant surprise, Cain doesn’t waste a moment, rolling my hand within his to drag his thumb down my palm, sending sparks through my body. “I imagine I’ll be keeping him extremely busy until Monday and well beyond, Larissa. Now if you’ll excuse us, we need to eat so we can get home.”
There’s a long pause. I dare cast a glance up to see Larissa’s mouth twisted with displeasure. “Well, best of luck to you.” She holds her head high as she walks away at a brisk pace. When she disappears around the corner, I make a move to slide my hand out of Cain’s but he traps it within his for a moment, studying it, before finally letting go.
“Sorry if I was being presumptuous, but she got under my nerves and I could tell you were annoyed. I figured pretending we were dating was the best way to get rid of her.”
His brow spikes with curiosity. “How did you know I was annoyed?”
I hesitate for a moment, stabbing a chunk of steak from my salad. Should I tell him? Will he think I’m crazy? His expectant eyes on me make me finally cave. I gesture at his mouth with my free hand and explain, “You lick your top lip when you’re annoyed.”
“Have you been investigating me?” he asks playfully.
“Maybe,” I admit, hoping he doesn’t notice my ears reddening. “On my own, though. No hired help.” A sheepish look flashes over his features, and I have to giggle. “I have a thing for body language and facial expressions. I used to do a lot of theater, and people-watching is a good way to learn how to play different roles.”
“Drama . . . hmm.” Cutting into his steak, he casually asks, “What else do I do?”
“Not much, to be honest. You’re pretty guarded.” Stabbing the air with my fork, I gesture toward his neck. “You rub your neck over that tattoo when you’re anxious.”