Saving the CEO (49th Floor #1)(19)

“The Wexler deal is too important, Cassie. I’ve seen deals fall apart—I’ve seen companies fall apart—when people let things get too personal.”

Well, that stung. But so be it. He wanted her, but apparently not enough to do anything about it. She shoved aside the ding to her pride and summoned another of her fake-bright smiles. “All right, let’s get started. Can I get a tour first? This is a lovely space.”

“Sure.” Jack led her down one of the two corridors that split off from the reception area, turning on lights as he went. The floors were hardwood, which seemed incongruent for an office, and the walls were painted a pale sky-blue. It was all very elegant, but comfortably so.

“Huh,” she mused as he led her into a kitchen that was tricked out with stainless steel appliances and a cappuccino machine.

“What?”

“It’s not very…officey.”

“Well, that’s the point, I guess. We spend a lot of time here.”

“We?” she prompted. The place was smaller than she’d imagined. But then, she’d pretty much imagined the Bat Cave—cavernous, masculine, dark. Maybe he saved that aesthetic for his house. She’d seen half a dozen private offices on this side of the suite, and beyond the kitchen looked to be an open area filled with a few dozen large cubicles, but since the space was surrounded by windows on two sides, they lacked that stifling feeling that usually came with cubicles.

“Yeah, the kitchen especially is the hangout spot. There are two other companies on this floor—a software company and an advertising agency—and everyone always seems to end up here.”

“I can see why.”

When they crossed back through reception to the other side, there were fewer, larger offices. He pointed at the first one. “My EA.”

“You have an executive assistant?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. But of course he did. He was a scion of industry. What did she think? He booked his own meetings? Made his own lunch reservations? If her surprise was unreasonable, so was the irrational stab of jealousy in her gut at the idea of some hot girl—for she would be hot—knowing the ins and outs of Jack’s life. “What’s her name?” she asked casually.

He looked like he was trying not to smile. “Seth.”

“Oh.” She sped on to the next, slightly larger office.

“Carl,” he said.

“Okay! Moving on.” She stopped at the last office before the corridor made a turn.

“This is Amy. Her title is VP, but she’s really my real estate person. She’s in Mexico right now.”

Oh, so this would be the hot girl. “Christmas getaway—nice,” Cassie said, pointedly asking no further questions about Amy.

“Nope, work. We’re working on our first project outside Canada and the US. I’m in the early stages of construction of a resort near Tulum. An eco sort of thing. Zip-lining, hiking—and of course the ocean. Hey! Why are you wrinkling your nose?”

“I’m sure it will be great. I just don’t get the idea of going on vacation in order to like, exert yourself. If I ever went on vacation, I would lie around reading trashy novels and napping all day.”

He laughed. “It’s for people who don’t work as hard as we do. Personally, I’m with you.”

It was her turn to giggle. The sight of him stretched out in a beach cabana reading a bodice ripper was too funny—he looked like he should be on the cover of one. “I thought the company would be bigger,” she said, running her fingers over the dark, polished wood of Amy’s door.

“We’re pretty lean, actually. We work hard. Most of my employees have been with me for a long time, and they feel some ownership, I think. They’re loyal.” She didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes before he recovered. “Or so I thought. Anyway, the point is we get a lot done pretty efficiently.”

“And, wow, you get it done in style. These are some mighty fine digs,” she said, wanting to take his mind off his troubles, even if only for a moment.

“Thanks.” He pointed around the corner. “And there’s me.”

She led the way. And then she stopped in her tracks, letting loose a low whistle as the door opened onto his office.

Two of the walls were windows, and he had a breathtaking view of the towers of the financial district on one side and the blue expanse of Lake Ontario on the other.

“It is kind of nice, isn’t it?” He looked like a little kid showing her something he’d made.

Turning her attention to the office itself, she did a slow rotation, taking in the massive antique mahogany desk, a sitting area furnished with a decadent looking sofa and a pair of armchairs upholstered in a lush, vibrant orange. It looked like a masculine version of her apartment. Except for the fact that… “My whole apartment would fit in here two times over,” she declared.

“Yep,” he agreed cheerfully, but not unkindly. “And there’s an elevator,” he teased.

She sighed, walking toward one of the window-walls for a moment to compose herself. It was like being Cinderella at the ball, she felt so out of her element. Except no, she told herself. All Cinderella had going for her was the prospect of hitching her wagon to some dude. Cassie, on the other hand, had been hired to do a job. A fifty thousand dollar job.