Cassie hadn't expected any protest from him about the process being over. She'd figured he'd be relieved to have her gone from his life. A nice, clean break. He wouldn't have her stalking his every move, asking questions night and day, hearing stories from his family. He should be overjoyed they were finished, not angry with her.
"You did well, Cassie. You blackmailed me, got what you wanted, and now you can walk away with a bunch of secrets for the world to see. You must be feeling quite proud," he mocked. His words inflamed her temper, which she was grateful for. He was acting like a victim. She couldn't believe the irony of it all.
He'd been the one to hit her - he'd been the one insisting on taking care of her. Then, he'd had the gall to try and pay her off. She hadn't taken anything from him, so he had no right to act like she was some money hungry bimbo, only out to get whatever she could from him. She held onto the anger, embraced it, and looked him in the eyes, knowing her own blue ones were cold and angry.
"It looks like you've gotten me all figured out, Max. I did get what I wanted from you," she said with venom.
"I guess I do, Cassie. Was sleeping with me just another way to get more for your story? Do you plan on describing my preferred positions, or why not go further, and talk about my favorite places. Do you need some more pictures from my childhood? I'm sure my family members will gladly hand them over, since you've done such an excellent job of snowballing them into believing you're someone else," he spit. Cassie cringed from the force of his words.
She knew she deserved his anger. She was leading him to believe she was just as cold as him. But, the only reason he was angry in the first place was because she was the one walking away. He probably had another week of sex planned. Now, he'd have to go find someone else, not like it would be hard for him. She cringed as she thought of him in the arms of another woman. She couldn't let her mind go down that path or she'd break down. Just a few more minutes and she could walk from his office. She wouldn't break down until she was far from his building. Then, she promised herself, she'd allow the tears to flow.
"The article's fine, you're dismissed," he said, his eyes never looking so cold.
"What?" she questioned. He'd switched his anger off so suddenly, she was momentarily unsure what he said.
"You can leave. We're done here. In the agreement, I included at fifty thousand dollar settlement. My attorney will drop it by your place this afternoon. Sign the papers and we'll be out of each other's lives for good," he said with no emotion to his tone. This was what I wanted, she told herself. She wanted to be out of his life. The shattering of her heart betrayed that thought, but she pushed it to the back of her mind.
"I told you I didn't want any money," she whispered.
"Quit playing the martyr, Cassie. I hit you with my car. I'm getting off cheap with that amount. Take the damn check so we can be finished with each other," he said with irritation. Her very presence in his office seemed to be getting on his nerves. He'd effectively written her off. She was glad, she repeated to herself.
Cassie finally managed to get her feet moving. She walked toward him with her hand out for a professional final handshake. She had some honor, so she'd leave with her pride.
"Not going to happen. Leave," he said, refusing her offering. She felt as if he'd slapped her across the face. She didn't want to walk out as the cold strangers they were treating each other like. She wanted there to be a piece of civility between them.
"Max … " she tried.
"Did you not hear me? This conversation is over. You know where the exit is," he snarled. He gave her one more cold stare, then looked back to his computer as if she was nothing more than a pesky fly on the wall. He wanted her gone.
Cassie walked from his office, almost as if she were in a trance. She kept the tears back as she got on the elevator. She held her head high as she started walking down the street. There was a slight mist of rain in the air, but she didn't even notice it.
She kept her focus on walking, placing one foot in front of the other, to the rhythm of her breaking heart. Soon, she found herself running down the sidewalk. She didn't know at what point she'd started, but she was trying to outrun the pain, the trauma of leaving him. She ran until her lungs burned, until her sides ached. She ran, liking the feeling of physical pain in her body. She needed more, to take away the aching in her heart. She ran for several miles, her feet aching, her body a mess. She didn't care, she didn't care about anything at that moment.
Max stood and paced his office. He was a fool. He'd fallen in love with a woman who was no better than the man he used to be. He'd been perfectly happy with his life before meeting Cassandra McIntyre. He'd enjoyed having a different woman on his arm every night. He'd enjoyed meaningless sex. He'd been satisfied by it. Then, she'd sprung into his life, and he could think of no other.
He wanted to chase her down, demand she love him. He was used to women using him for what they wanted and nothing more. He could've married countless times over, but what was the point? He wouldn't marry a woman unless there was love, and he'd never thought he'd find it. He never thought he'd ever be with a woman who he wanted to share his life with. The sex was great, it was important, but it wasn't the only thing. He couldn't imagine going back to the way he was before Cassie.
He'd had a perfect evening planned for the two of them. He'd made reservations at the most romantic spot in the city. He was shocked to find he had missed her the last few days. When he realized she'd left the party without a word, he was furious, but after he calmed down, he thought her foot had just been hurting and she wanted to get home without being a burden. He could accept that. He was wrong. She'd only ever been out for the article and what it would do for her future. She hadn't been falling in love with him as he thought.
Max didn't know how long he stood there, staring out at the sky as it lit with the morning sun, trying to break through the ever present cloud cover, but long enough to give himself a mental shake. He wouldn't dwell on her. She was just a woman and he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing she could've had so much more from him than one interview. She could have had him for the rest of his life.
He picked up his bag, not in the mood to sit in his office all day. It was time for another business trip. He'd find a reason to be out of town for a while because he'd only want to go to her if he stayed in the states. He had to get away. Her making him run was just another reason he was infuriated. A woman should never hold that kind of power over him.
Cassie made it to her apartment hours later. She headed right to the freezer and grabbed a large box of chocolate ice-cream. She didn't even bother with a bowl, just took the container to her couch, with a spoon, and started taking bites as the tears freely flowed down her cheeks. She didn't want to be alone, but she wasn't fit company.
Besides, her best friend was a continent away, her family all gone, and she'd started making new friends, but they were all related to Max. She couldn't cry on their shoulder. It wouldn't be fair. She didn't think any of them would want to be her friend after all this, anyway.
There was the slightest voice in her head, poking at her. What if she'd been wrong? What if she'd been honest with him, and told him she wanted to see if there was anything real from the last month to hold onto. She pushed the voice away. He hadn't tried to stop her. He'd told her to leave. The only thing he was upset about was she'd called him on who he truly was.
Cassie brushed her cheeks, wiping away the last remaining tears. She'd cried enough for one day. She had a job to do, and she wouldn't accomplish it by feeling sorry for herself. She couldn't even hate the man, if she could, then maybe her heart wouldn't hurt so badly.
She quickly changed into her pajamas, not even caring it was the middle of the day. There was no way she was going back out so she may as well be comfortable. She pulled out her laptop and transferred all her data. She stared blankly at the screen. Did she really want to torture herself by working on an article about the man she needed to forget? She thought it was like a Band-Aid. She needed to just rip it off and get all the pain over with at once.
She started typing, and hours later was happy with what was before her. She was finished with her article. It was good, really good. Maybe sorrow is good for the author's soul, because she'd turned her pain into something she felt certain would be accepted just about anywhere she took it.
She realized the sun was starting to set, and planned on taking a nice long bath, and then passing out for about twelve hours. She just wanted the day to end. She'd start her life over the next morning. That was soon enough. Just as she was getting ready to head to her bathroom, there was a knock on her door.