Overlooked(76)

I feel hope stir in my chest, a faint hope that maybe all this isn't pretend. Maybe there's more to him, more to us, than I had originally thought. Maybe I had jumped to conclusions. For a brief second, my heart is soaring.

Then Cade breaks into an easy grin, "So, how was that?"

I blink, unsure what he means. There's silence for a moment before it hits me. He was just faking it. Just another lie. Just another way to build the image of a perfect relationship. A good excuse for why we hadn't gotten into a relationship much sooner.

He's still smiling, "I thought it was pretty good."

I don't know what to say. Anger pulses through me, hurt following soon after. It is followed quickly by the shuddering realization that this is all it will ever be to him and I am better off keeping this strictly business.

I throw any hope of something more into the trash, and move on.

If the smile I give him looks forced, it's because that's exactly what it is. Forced. "That's great. Convincing story."

Any sincerity has vanished from his eyes and I am left wondering what the hell just happened. I wonder how he can change so quickly, how he can lie so convincingly. I swallow the lump in my throat and straighten my dress. He's a jerk and I need to remember that.

A complete jerk and this is nothing but business, end of story.

"Good. I hoped it would be." He sips his coffee.

I finish mine, before rising to my feet.

"Where are you off to?" He asks with a confused look.

"To get the bill." I know I sound a little cold, but I'm beyond caring. I'll play my part to a tee, but that's all he's getting from me. I go to the counter before he can argue, handing over my card and clearing the bill before I return, clutching the receipt like a trophy.

"What was that all about?" There's tension in his voice, the easy-going exterior melting away into nothing before my very eyes.

I shrug and sit down, "I was getting the bill."

"I know that. I was going to pay." His eyes are boring into me and I turn and stare straight back at him.

I smile, and I find my own words flowing smooth as honey, "I just wanted to spoil you before your big meeting, baby. I know how important it is to you." I lean across the table and touch his arm with a soft smile.

Our eyes meet and there's a moment of fire between us. Then he glances away. He knows he's lost this round. An odd thrill rises inside of me and I pull my hand back.

"Thanks." His words are forced, but he's smiling as if nothing happened. He's convincing. That's good.

"You're really thoughtful." He finishes his drink and stands, "We'd better get going. Better to be early than late, huh?"

I nod in agreement, holding my purse as we make our way to the door, "Thank you for inviting me to this." I practically simper, "I really want to be a part of this." I smile, "I mean, now that we're engaged. It would just feel wrong to leave you all alone."

He adjusts his tie and I can tell I am making him uncomfortable. I'm playing my part too well and I feel triumph flush through me. He can fake it all he likes, but I can do it too, perhaps better. I know what he likes, I know his life story. I'm his stylist  –  I've practically seen inside his soul. It's time to put that to the test.

He might know how to treat some random lady, but I know what makes Cade Harlow tick. I slip my hand into his and glance up at the building that we're approaching.

It's massive and somehow it seems terribly soulless. "Cheerful place, isn't it?"

"Matches the man inside it." I feel him twitch, hostility pouring off him like waves.

"You know him?"

"No. One phone conversation. One email." He frowns, "That was enough."

I nod, and squeeze his hand, "Well, we'd better be nice. After all, he's doing a lot of work for us, isn't he?" I laugh and shake my head, "Oh, I mean, for you. Sorry."

An innocent slip, a loving little mistake and a squeeze of his hands. He looks away from me and I can feel the warmth radiating off his body.

"Of course I'll be nice." He does a remarkable job of keeping steady and I have to admit that he's not the only one feeling tense, feeling nervous. This is a big day and I hope that I am ready to take it head on.

We make our way into the building. Cade checks a piece of paper  –  I assume he is confirming the floor and the number. We step into the elevator and I glance at myself in the mirror. I still look put together and professional. A reliable fiancée.

Good. That's what I am going for. I let my attention wonder as the lift rushes upwards. Cade seems unsettled, tapping his fingers lightly. His expression is smooth but I have only ever seen him tap his fingers when he's feeling stressed. I'm not sure he even realizes he is doing it.

The building itself feels unusually cold, like it is too big to heat properly. It truly does have an odd, soulless feeling to it  –  a sort of corporate quality, but without any attempts at being friendly or inclusive. I swallow. I need to play it cool. I need to keep it together.

I know Cade. I just need to focus on the truth and build it into the lie. Everything will be just fine. Cade doesn't say a word until we reach our floor, stepping out of the lift. I let Cade go first, and breathe a deep sigh. I try to steady my nerves. I suddenly wonder if this would feel any different if we were in love, if we were together. Would I feel less worried or even more so about this meeting?

"His office is this way." Cade glances at me with a smile. He's moving with easy confidence again, the hostility left behind in the elevator. He's all calm smiles and flashing eyes.   





 

When we stop outside a door, the plaque reads, "Adam Jones. Lawyer."

Cade doesn't hesitate, knocking firmly on the door before glancing at his watch. We're right on time, and the door swings open promptly.

A man is standing in the doorway. He's taller, younger than I expected him to be, and I am struck by how good looking he is. He exudes a completely different kind of confidence. He's holding himself tall in a way that suggests he holds power, he holds knowledge, and he knows it.

His eyes skim over me and over Cade, and I notice that they are the most brilliant shade of blue. Lively, sharp and very intelligent. I need to keep my guard up with his man. He's dressed crisply in a shirt, tie and dress pants. No suit jacket. He's at ease, even more so than Cade.

He has nothing to lose. He holds all the cards. I feel a flush of heat down my body, lingering between my legs. His eyes find mine and for a moment, I am held in place, a butterfly pinned and unable to move. Then his eyes slide to Cade again and he smiles, extending a hand.

"Ah, Mr. Harlow. Come in." He shakes hands with Cade and steps back to let us into the room. "And you must be Miss … ?" His eyes search my face and it's like he can see right through me.

"Cassidy." I answer, a blush creeping to my cheeks despite my best intentions to stay composed. He holds out his hand and I take it for a moment in a handshake. It's cool and dry and I hope that my hand feels the same way to him.

"Please, take a seat." He leads us to his office and pulls out my chair.

He's polished, unlike the womanizing confidence of Cade. It's like being submerged into a pool of cool water. Too cold at first, but refreshing and beautiful and exactly what you need.

"Coffee?" He steps away to the machine.

Cade is leaning back in the chair now, looking perfectly at home. His posture is open and relaxed, but I see the flickering in his eyes, "Black, thanks."

I nod, even though I have only just finished a cup, "With cream, if that's okay."

"It's no trouble." Adam turns to make the coffee and I glance at Cade. He gives me a reassuring smile and reaches across to take my hand.

For a fleeting moment of insanity, I consider pulling my hand away. I blush at my own stupidity, the way I am fawning over a man I have just met. Sure, he's magnetic, but that's no reason to lose my head.

Adam hands us our cups and makes his way to the other side of the desk, sitting down in his chair and surveying us, "So, Mr. Harlow …  I trust you've brought the relevant paperwork?" He's smiling as he skips straight to the point.

"Of course, Mr. Jones. What exactly would you like to see first?" Cade smiles in return, flicking his briefcase open easily.

"Please, call me Adam." His eyes move to me as he says it, meeting my gaze. Electricity crackles in the air between us and I feel my breath grow short.

He looks back at Cade, "The paperwork for the trust fund, thank you." His voice is as polite as when he first opened the door, but I can feel the current running beneath. It's almost patronizing and I see the tension grow in Cade's shoulder.

These men hate each other. They may wear suits and dance around the issue with polite talk and subtle digs, but their hatred for each other is clear. Not even five minutes in. I bite back a sigh and lean forward, trying to seem interested.

I realize with startling clarity that I am going to have to do a damn good job of this if I want to convince Adam of our relationship. I rest a hand on Cade's arm, "Is that the letter you mentioned?" I ask, naive and eager to help my fiancé. My voice is a soft murmur, as if I only want Cade to hear me. That couldn't be further from the truth.

To his credit, Cade doesn't shoot me an irritated glare even though I feel him stiffen. Instead, he looks at me in a supportive sort of way, "Yes, that's the one."