Saving the CEO(59)

“There’s a lot more continuity between the two types of projects than you might think,” said Cassie, before she could think better of it. Darn. She really should stick to the financials and let Jack do the rest of the talking. But now everyone, Jack included, was looking at her. “The Mexican property is also going to be an eco-resort,” she offered. “And though it’s bigger than this place would be, the basic principles are down-scalable.”

“Are they, though?” said Senior. “To be honest, I was always skeptical of your decision to move into Mexico. You’re a small player on the international scene. Hasn’t that project leveraged you way too much to take on something like this?”

“Actually, no,” said Jack. “Cassie can show you the projections for that project. It’s true we’ve directed a lot of resources into it, but we’re well positioned to work on a project here, too.”

“I’d like to see those numbers,” said David.

This was her cue. Cassie’s stomach fluttered. “I’ll just run to my room and get my computer,” she said. She hadn’t been sure if she should bring it with her, or if they were going to cling to the fiction that this was a social visit. But clearly Senior had shifted gears, and now he was all business.

“I’ll come with you,” he said. “Then we can swing by my office and you can show me there. I have some notes I want to get.” He stood and looked back at Jack. “Jack, you want to come, or are you still leaving the down and dirty finances to your lieutenants?”

“Lieutenants,” said Jack, smiling and lifting his glass. “Especially when the alternative is port that’s this good.”

Tania smiled. “And Jack promised me a game of chess, so I’m keeping him.”

And so Cassie found herself in David Wexler’s office, situated at the back of the house and featuring a wall of windows. “Oh!” she exclaimed when she stepped into the still-dark office. “Can you wait to turn on the light for just a moment?” She moved to the window. The house was situated in a small clearing, and if you looked up from this vantage point, the sky twinkled with stars.

“Amateur astronomer?” Wexler asked. “You start to take it for granted, but it’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

“I can’t imagine taking this for granted,” said Cassie. When he didn’t answer, she realized she’d been unwise to speak so honestly. He probably thought she was scolding him somehow. “I just mean…”

“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.