Shaking her head over the things people did to each other, Cass eyed the woman's known associates and a sense of foreboding grew in her stomach. All of the people linked to Rebecca had addresses in Austin. Not a big deal. The woman had lived and worked in Austin when she was employed by GB Skin.
It just seemed odd that Rebecca Moon hadn't made any friends in Dallas in the...seven months she'd worked for Fyra. Not one person from her new neighborhood had asked her to lunch via text message or friended her on Facebook?
The background check hadn't extended to Rebecca's friends' information. So there was no way to know if the people she'd interacted with online and made phone calls to were employed by GB Skin-but logic would dictate that she'd made friends at Gage's company and kept them.
If Gage had found that out somehow, would it have been a temptation to lean on that connection? No, she couldn't assume that. Could she?
Her stomach rolled again as she recalled how convenient the timing had been when he'd first shown up at Fyra. Yes, she knew the drive between here and Austin was easy. Someone could conceivably hop in the car with little planning and be here before lunch. It didn't mean Gage had known about the formula before the information hit the trade magazine, or that he'd used the leak as some kind of leverage to get her to agree to sell.
But still. Gage had been convinced Cass owed him something. But then he'd stopped reminding her of it. The formula rarely came up these days. Why, because he knew Rebecca Moon was going to steal it for him?
That was a stretch. But Cass couldn't get it off her mind. A leak was one thing, but the threat of the culprit doing additional harm was very real. As was the possibility she'd been played by the master, just like she had been in college.
She would drive herself crazy with that line of thinking. She used her time to thoroughly peruse the rest of the report but Rebecca was the only lead she had.
Who better to contradict whether he'd discovered the perfect mole in Cass's company than Gage himself? There was absolutely no reason she couldn't bring this information to him and get his explanation. They could be straight with each other. He'd talk to her and tell her she was being silly and then maybe she'd tell him that she'd hired a private detective. With the detective on the job, she and Gage could focus on each other. See what their relationship might look like with all the agendas put away.
Because if she couldn't trust him with business, what could she trust him with?
Halfway through the last page of the report, a knock on the door startled her. Gage.
She let him into her house and drank in the man's beauty and masculinity as she stood frozen in the foyer where he'd made love to her for the first time in a decade. A million powerful emotions washed over her. She'd tried to keep her distance. Tried to keep her heart where it belonged-in her chest and shielded from Gage-but as she looked at him, images flew at her, of him as he held his son, as he laughed with her, as he made love to her.
The addition of his baby had shifted things. Far more so than she'd have anticipated, and not the way she'd have thought. Gage was a father now. Did that mean he'd changed his thinking about commitment? Was he ready to find a woman to settle down with?
But he still said things like let's see how it goes. We're having fun. You owe me. Turnabout is fair play. He'd distracted her from the leak again and again with his talk of pleasure before business. Had he been afraid she'd find something?
Ask him about Rebecca. Go on.
The wicked smile he treated her to fuzzled her mind and then he swept her into a very friendly embrace that promised to get a lot friendlier.
She pulled away and crossed her arms over the ache in her midsection that wouldn't ease. This was why she shouldn't let her heart take over. Emotions only led to problems.
"That was fast," she said brightly.
He raised one eyebrow quizzically. "Not fast enough, clearly. What's wrong?"
"I'm hungry," she lied. Of course he'd picked up on the swirl of uncertainty under her skin. "I waited for you to eat."
"I had Whataburger on the way. I'll hang out with you in the kitchen while you eat something, if you want."
"Sure." Then they could talk.
Except she couldn't seem to segue into by the way, did you happen to set up a deal with one of my employees to steal my formula for you?
Gage sat on a bar stool and chatted about Robbie, absently sipping a highball with a splash of Jack Daniel's in it. As she woodenly ate a very unappetizing sandwich that didn't sit well in her swirly stomach, she couldn't stand it any longer. The best approach was to ease into it, perhaps.
"When are we going to check in with each other?" she asked during a lull in Gage's conversation. Because of course their relationship, the leak and the formula were all tied together. Without one, the others didn't exist, and it was time to get all of it straight. "About how things are going."
"Now?" he suggested mildly. "Is that what's bugging you? You don't have to dance around it if that's on your mind. How are things going, Cass?"
Right, jump straight to her as if she could possibly articulate what was going on inside. She made it a habit of pretending she didn't have any emotions and she certainly didn't spend a lot of time cataloguing them for others when she didn't fully understand them herself.
Besides, this was about Gage. About whether he'd planted a mole in her company. Whether he'd invented a relationship with her to get his hands on her formula. Whether he'd become a man she could trust.
She scowled. "I wanted to know how it was going from your chair."
He took in her dark expression without comment. "It's working. But it's only been a week and Robbie will be a big part of my life come Monday. So I guess I'm still seeing how things go."
And somehow, his perfectly legitimate response plowed through her nerves like water torture. "What does that mean? Once you become a dad, you might decide two is enough?"
It would be exactly what she'd been expecting. Sorry, this thing between us has run its course. That's what she'd prepared for.
His brow furrowed and he abandoned his drink to focus on her. "No, it means it's a complexity in an already shaky situation."
"Shaky how?" she whispered. "Do you have something you need to tell me?"
Oh, God, what was she going to do if he came right out and confessed? He was bound to have some kind of rationale, like he'd only planned to use Rebecca to gather information for leverage or he'd say that technically, he hadn't done anything illegal.
"Cass, you're trembling."
Clearly concerned, he tried to grip her hand but she yanked it away, whacking her nearly empty wineglass and sending it clattering across the granite bar. Gage, bless his honed reflexes, caught the stemware before it shattered on the travertine tile below, but the trail of wine across her light brown counters would stain.
Good. Something to occupy her hands while she gained control again. No emotions, she scolded herself. Brazen it out. Don't let him know what's going on inside.
"You didn't answer my question," she said, pleased at how calmly she delivered the statement. And how coolly she wiped up the spilled wine with careful, even strokes. "If our situation is shaky, what's making it that way?"
"The formula, for one. I was expecting you to tell me to go to hell when I called about Robbie. But you didn't." He watched her closely but she refused to meet his all-knowing gaze.
She would never have told him that. He'd needed her. Maybe she should have told him to go to hell twenty times since then, but dang it, she'd wanted to believe in him. In them.
Yes, it meant something that she'd come when he called. She'd been hanging around, thinking she'd hold on to her heart and dip one toe in, but really, she was pathetically, predictably wishing for him to fall in love with her. Just like last time.
But he'd given her no reason to trust him, no reason to believe that could ever happen. Becoming a father didn't automatically make Gage Branson someone he wasn't and that's why he wasn't suddenly spouting promises and pretty words. Let's see how things go was code for I've found my Ms. Right-Now. Until he got tired of her. Until something better came along. It was all fun and games until someone's heart got broken.
Or worse, until she found out exactly how good he was at keeping business and pleasure separate. A little thing like corporate espionage wasn't supposed to get between them while they were burning up the sheets.