Saving the CEO (49th Floor #1)(52)
“Don’t get to see the stars often in the city, I suppose?” he asked, his voice kind.
“Yes, and I never get out of the city, so even though I’d like to be an amateur astronomer, my subscription to Astronomy magazine is about as far as I ever get.” She chuckled. “When I was a kid, I thought I would be an astronomer.”
“Yeah, a lot of kids get that idea, at summer camp or at the cottage—somewhere they really start to see the night sky and think about what’s out there.”
“Oh, no,” said Cassie quickly, “I didn’t…” Ahh, what was she saying? Well, what the heck? Why not throw some truth into the mix of lies she was weaving here? “I grew up poor. So no summer camp. No stars.”
“I see,” said Wexler. He looked like he was going to say something more, but then he blinked and said, “Well, let’s run through your numbers, and then we can slip out and take a walk while we talk further. You only get a limited view from this window.”
…
An hour later Cassie was toasty warm and happy. Everyone had said good night and gone their own ways, and she, ensconced by the fire in the great room, had intended to spend an hour before bed brushing up on some details for tomorrow. Instead, though, she just stared into the fire and let the heat melt her tension away. This was a good place. It was silly, because she’d only been here a day, but she felt a sort of affinity for the island. Jack could really do something here.
Never in her life had she seen stars like tonight. When Wexler had taken her outside, it seemed the entire Milky Way was lit up like a swatch of white silk, stars so thick you couldn’t differentiate one from another. And even better, she felt confident she’d done the best she could making Jack’s case. Wexler had proven a receptive audience. He must have sensed that she appreciated the place because as they walked, they talked about the island as much as about its possible sale. Whereas before she’d felt embarrassed about telling him she’d grown up poor, she was reassured now that he wasn’t holding it against her. In fact, he seemed impressed with her story of putting herself through school as a bartender. He was easy to talk to. Like she imagined an interested father might be—someone who managed to ask the right questions and be a good listener. The only thing that put a damper on the walk was the niggling guilt she felt over the fact that she was a fraud. She told herself she wasn’t deceiving him. She knew her stuff. She could tell him what he needed to know and make a case for Jack. None of that was a lie. Not precisely.
“Burning the midnight oil?”
For a moment her heart leapt, thinking it was Jack. And really, if she were being honest with herself, didn’t she hope it was Jack? Isn’t that why she was here to begin with, stationed in this public area of the house, in the hopes he’d find her?
“How about some company?” said the voice from the shadows.
Her mind was a little slow to catch up, but when it did, it registered the presence of Brian, who, now that she had gotten to know his father a little, seemed even more unworthy as heir to the Wexler fortune.
He surprised her by sitting right next to her on the sofa, rather than on one of the adjacent armchairs. “You want a drink?”
“Ah, no, no thank you. I was just thinking about getting to bed.”
“A girl who cuts to the chase—I like that.” She couldn’t see his face very well in the dim light of the flames, but she could feel the leer. She was mustering her response, when he said, “I can cut to the chase, too.” He leaned in, and she caught a whiff of beer on his breath. Funny how Jack’s sometimes-scotch-tinged mouth could be so irresistible, and this guy’s was just…repulsive. Her heart started beating harder than was called for. She reminded herself that she was in a house full of people and that nothing could happen against her will. She had only to scream, if it came to it, and they would come running.
“I’m going to tell you the truth,” he whispered, hot breath on her ear. “For some reason I can’t fathom, I find you insanely hot.”
“Cassie?” came a deep voice from the darkness that surrounded the fire.
Thank God.
“Yes!” She stood. “I’m here!”
He came into the circle of light cast by the fire, and he was not pleased. Junior probably wasn’t sensitive enough to notice, but even in the shadowy flickering, she could see his clenched fists.
“We were going to go over those numbers.” On the surface his voice was flat, devoid of emotion, but she recognized in it a streak of barely restrained rage.
“Yes—the numbers.” She turned to Junior. “Brian, I’m sorry, it’s been lovely chatting, but work beckons.”
…
“What the hell, Cassie?” Jack asked after Brian was out of earshot.
He felt bad almost immediately. It wasn’t her he was angry with—she had looked so small there on the couch, leaning away from Brian—and he should have tempered his tone.
“Don’t say that like I did anything! I was just sitting here and Mr. Rico Suave suddenly arrived and…ugh.” She shuddered.
That told him all he needed to know. Which was that he should have punched Brian Wexler’s lights out when he had the chance. Stupid, but for a split second, when he’d seen them so close together on the sofa, he wondered if there was something there. An instant attraction. It would have been hard to believe, but having had some recent firsthand experience with instant attraction, it was not completely outside the realm of possibility.