Tearing his mouth from hers, he whispered, "We're made of the same stuff, Cassie."
"Yes," she said, pressing her mouth against his again, imbuing the kiss with everything she had, with all the stardust in the universe.
Epilogue
A Tuesday night in May.
When Jack came into Edward's that night, he was grinning. He couldn't help it. He was just so damned proud.
"Jack!"
He wiped the smile off his face as Camille, the hostess, approached. A man did have limits.
"I read about you in that Forbes "Ones to Watch" thing!"
"Mmmm," he murmured, scanning the bar as he left the Queen of the Ballerina Girls still talking.
There was everyone-Danny, Amy and her boyfriend Mason, Dax and some of the guys from his company, a few of the women from Marcus's advertising firm. Cassie had grown close with lots of the folks from the forty-ninth floor. Of course she had-everyone loved her. She was fucking irresistible.
There was everyone. But where was the guest of honor?
Just then, a familiar brunette head popped up from behind the bar at the far end, away from the others. Her eyes lit up when she saw him approach.
He ignored the greetings being lobbed at him from everyone else and made his way to her. "What are you doing back there?" Though Cassie had made up with Edward, she had decisively quit and had been working tirelessly all semester to finish school.
"Just getting some props out to help Alana," she said, plunking down a bunch of shot glasses on the bar and then coming around to sit by the girl. "We're working on ants again." She already had a ruler on the bar, and she started measuring out the distance between one shot glass and another.
"Oh no you don't," he said, reaching between her and Alana to close the textbook sitting on the bar. "This is your party."
"Thank you!" said Alana with her signature drama. "I've been trying to get her to quit for half an hour!"
He winked at Alana. "I just saw Carl. Britney said to tell you she's on her way." Tenderhearted Cassie, in the months that Carl had been in treatment for his gambling addiction, had made friends with Britney, and had, in turn, introduced her to Alana.
"How did it go with Carl?" Cassie whispered as she gathered her things in preparation for moving down the bar.
"I offered him a less senior position, but he said no."
She raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"He said he thought it was better for him to start over somewhere else. Prove himself."
"It's hard to argue with that."
He nodded. It had been a relief, really. He couldn't just throw Carl out on the street, but it would have been hard to fully trust him again. This way, they could stay friends and keep the business out of it. "Anyway, enough. We're celebrating the graduate."
"Oh!" She hopped up and down and grinned. "There's something else to celebrate-I got a job!" She lifted her chin and struck a fake-haughty pose. "You are looking at the newest junior analyst at TD Waterhouse. They're expanding their retail operations in the US, and I'll be helping assess markets."
Well, hot damn. Step one on the Cassie James world domination tour. He tried to scowl, but a smile won out. "I still wish you'd come work for me."
"Working for your bazillionaire boyfriend's company is gross. Favoritism."
"I'm not a bazillionaire. But I do favor you. You got me there."
She leaned over to hug him. He was like a trained puppy. That vanilla scent called him to attention. In more ways than one. She lifted her eyebrows and looked pointedly at his crotch.
They were interrupted by the clinking of cutlery against glass. Edward beckoned them over and handed each of them a scotch. "To Cassie James, B.A.," he said, beaming.
"Hold on now," said Cassie. "I don't have the grades back from my finals yet, so technically-"
Jack kissed her. It was sometimes the only way to shut her up. That was his excuse anyway. She made a little squeak of surprise and then sighed and opened her mouth.
"Get a room!" shouted Danny.
She pulled away, flushed, and lifted her glass, but not before standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "This isn't over."
He kissed her once more for good measure. "It's sure as hell not."