Saving the CEO (49th Floor #1)(33)

"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.

He raked his hands through his hair and sat next to her. "I'm sorry. You didn't sign up for this."

"It's okay. He's gross, but I'm a big girl." She grinned. "And, hey,  it's good to be liked. Although he did say he couldn't fathom-she made  air quotes with her fingers-why he was attracted to me. That was kind of  rude!"

He didn't reward her with the smile she was probably looking for.

"I think Senior likes me, too," she said, turning serious.

"He does. I just left him, and he's been singing your praises." It was  true. He was beginning to think that instead of being a pinch hitter,  Cassie was going to be his surprise closer. "He likes you personally,  but he also says you have a way of cutting through the bullshit when it  comes to the numbers." It was too dark to be sure, but he thought she  might have blushed. He bounced his shoulder against hers.

"So both Wexlers like me. This is good."

He cracked his knuckles. How should he put this? "I'll have a word with Junior tomorrow."

"Jack! No! I'm a grown-up. I can take care of myself. Besides, think  about it rationally for a minute. He likes me. This is good for the  deal."

"I'm not sure like is the right word."

"Whatever. We need him on our side, right? Senior won't sell if Junior  opposes. Junior … whatevers me. I can help make him see the genius of your  plan."

Yeah, that was not happening. He and Cassie may be done, but he'd be  damned if he was going to let that overgrown entitled frat boy near her.  "No way."

"Oh, come on. We'll play him a little. It's no less than he deserves. If  Carl uncovered a way to manipulate a major player in a deal to your  advantage, you wouldn't hesitate."

He couldn't lie to her, so he just looked away.

"Ha!" she said, as if triumphing, but he couldn't imagine what sort of  victory she was claiming. But then she must have realized he remained  unamused, because she turned defiant. "It's not like you can tell me  what to do, anyway. You're not actually my … boss."

For a minute he thought she'd been going to finish that sentence with another word altogether.

He sighed. "All right. But be careful." It was all he could say. He'd  heard what she'd left unsaid, and she was right. He had no claim on her.





Chapter Sixteen

The next day was the usual mix of socializing and business. Cassie found  it exhausting, but she could tell Jack thrived in these deal-making  situations, in environments when there was a lot at stake. For her part,  she could never tell which persona she was supposed to switch on at any  given time. Were they going to talk fourth-quarter projections, or were  they going to go for a swim in the indoor pool?

She was constantly on guard, and not only because she felt like a fish  out of water both as Winter Enterprise's finance person and as a  houseguest of the extremely rich. There was also the matter of Brian  Wexler. If he wasn't so gross, he would be sort of fascinating. She'd  run a little experiment on him, spending the first hour of the morning  subtly encouraging him and the second being borderline rude. Amazingly,  his behavior did not change at all. He seemed cheerfully oblivious to  anything she said or did to encourage or discourage him. It had probably  never occurred to him that someone like her wouldn't automatically jump  at the chance to be with a rich guy like him-rejection just wasn't in  his vocabulary. He probably thought she was the type who was impressed  by money.

Okay, she was a little impressed-not by him, but by the whole situation.  Nine days ago, she'd been a bartender-slash-student, saving her tips  and crossing her fingers that Laura's latest rehab stint would take.  Same old, same old. Now she was literally sipping Veuve Clicquot and  eating bonbons, doing her part to help broker a multimillion-dollar  acquisition.                       
       
           



       

There was also the part where she spent last week getting it on at the  forty-ninth floor of the Lakefront Centre, and having, like, fifteen  orgasms a day. That seemed as unreal as her immersion in this whole  other world. She wasn't accustomed to being the sort of woman men found  irresistible. But Jack had seemed to.

Had seemed to-past tense. They'd agreed to end things at the onset of  this trip. She knew that, but she hadn't been prepared for how easily he  had just shut off whatever it was that had been between them. Because,  honestly, it had been twenty-four hours now-twenty-four hours of being  in the same house and pretending they were nothing to each other but  cordial colleagues. While she was constantly aware of his presence, her  heart speeding up when he entered a room, he hardly seemed to notice  hers. She'd gone into this with her eyes open, knowing Jack's "rules"  meant there was an expiration date for them.

But apparently she'd underestimated how much it was going to break her heart.

 …

When Cassie didn't answer his knock, Jack hesitated for only a minute before entering. He needed to talk to her before dinner.

"Cassie?" he whispered, "Can I come in?" He hoped she wasn't napping.  They'd spent the morning tromping around the island with Wexler Senior,  and then Wexler and Cassie had huddled with some spreadsheets. Damn,  she'd been magnificent. When he'd hatched this whole plan, he'd known  she was smart. He'd hoped it would be enough for her to pass, to provide  the minimum amount of support he needed in Carl's absence. Instead, she  was turning out to have quite a knack for this. Amy couldn't have done a  better job explaining the Mexico project-and she'd been there in  person. Cassie could shift between numbers and big-picture vision stuff  effortlessly. Plus she had a kind of infectious enthusiasm for the idea  of a resort here. It was hard not to get swept up in the excitement when  she described bird-watching expeditions and stargazing parties. He  might even have to implement the damn stargazing idea if the deal went  through, though he still seriously doubted the ladies-who-lunch of  Toronto would care that there was an "amazing" meteor shower early every  August. But maybe their kids would.

After a busy morning, Wexler suggested everyone retire for a couple of  hours before dinner. Jack had given Cassie half an hour to herself, but  now he needed her. He'd caught Junior putting the moves on her a couple  times, and he wanted to tell her to call off whatever little  manipulation scheme she was running. It wasn't sitting right with him.  And besides, he didn't think they needed it. Wexler Senior was coming  around-he could feel it.