Working Stiff:Casimir (Runaway Billionaires #1)(34)

It was a masculine smorgasbord, and Rox was inexplicably ravenous.

"Rox, these are my old friends," Cash said, "Arthur Finch-Hatten and Maxence Grimaldi. They're old chums from school."

"Watch that," one of them said. "You've said ‘old' twice, there."

"Arthur," Cash said, gesturing to the one who had spoken. Arthur had  dark hair, but his eyes were such a light blue-gray that they were  almost silvery.

"And this is Maxence," Cash said, opening his hand to the other one.  Maxence was, if anything, the most classically handsome of the trio, his  bone structure flawless and strong, and he had black hair and dark  eyes. He was dressed in a black suit with a black shirt, which he wore  open at the collar. He looked thinner than the other two, almost gaunt  around his hard cheekbones and triangular jaw, but he seemed pale under  his tanned skin.

"Gentlemen," Cash said. Arthur raised his eyebrows. "May I present Roxanne Neil, my girlfriend."

Girlfriend? Damn, that was quick. She wasn't sure what she thought about  that, but they would discuss terminology sometime when the old school  chums weren't around.

"Pleased to meet you," Rox said and walked over to stand beside him. She  didn't duck under his arm. Too much, too soon. "Cash and I have worked  together for three years, now. And how long are y'all able to stay?"

"Well, that depends on Casimir, here," Arthur said. He tilted his head,  looking at the bandage. "His sister seemed to think he needed  houseguests."

"Ana set you two on me?" he asked. "I should have known."

"His sister meddles," Arthur explained, "and believes that she has his  best interests at heart. She used to try to boss him around when we were  at school, even though she lived in The Hague and we were in  Switzerland."

"I should have known you two would have all the dirt on Cash," she said.  "Let's go to the kitchen to have a cup of coffee and talk."

Arthur perked up and smiled. "Coffee sounds divine. Doesn't it, Maxence?"

The other man sent a sharp glance toward Arthur, but then relented. "Yes, thank you. Just black, please."

Arthur said, "God forbid you enjoy anything, Max. Come on, let's get to  know Casimir's girlfriend." His frank look raked Rox from her face to  her toes and back up. His eyes lingered on her bosom, and he smiled.

"Hey, Arthur," Rox said and pointed with two fingers to her face. "Eyes up here, buddy."

He did meet her gaze then, but his pale silver eyes narrowed as his smile grew more mischievous.

Cash stepped between them, cutting off their eye contact, and said  something quietly to Arthur. When he stepped aside, Arthur was gazing up  at the ceiling, but he was still smiling.

Maxence was staring at his phone like he wasn't taking part in the skirmish.

Cash said to him, "At least I shouldn't have to worry about you anymore, eh, Maxence?"

"Certainly not," Maxence said, and he tugged at his collar.

"Let's have some coffee, shall we?" Rox offered.

Cash led the way to the kitchen.

Maxence was one step behind him, walking with his hands held in front of himself, the perfect posture of self-control.

Rox wasn't sure how she had ended up last but suspected that her spirit animal, a herding shepherd dog, was at work somehow.                       
       
           



       

Arthur strode in front of her, and he slowed, letting Cash and Maxence get farther ahead of them.

As Maxence and Cash went through the door to the kitchen, Arthur turned,  grabbed Rox's wrist, and dragged her two steps to the side.

She yanked her wrist back. "What the fuck!"

He turned her by her shoulders and shoved her up against the wall.

"What the hell do you think you're-"

"The bandage on Casimir's face," Arthur hissed. His eyes, which looked  more baby blue because they were practically nose-to-nose, widened and  were dead serious. "What's under it? How bad is it?"

Oh.

"I don't know," she stammered. "He won't let me see. Ever since the  accident, he's kept a bandage on it. He even puts a towel over his head  before he gets out of the shower. I don't know how bad it is."

Arthur scowled, and she heard grinding from his jaw. "We need to find  out how bad it is and what he intends to do about it. Has he left the  house?"

Rox wasn't sure whether to shove Arthur off of her or not. They did need  to be close enough to whisper. "Only for doctor appointments, and not  at all since the last one a couple weeks ago."

"Damn it. He holes up like that. We've got to get him out of here."

Arthur stepped back and let her pass, and they were walking toward the  kitchen just as Cash pushed the door open and glared at Arthur, and then  he held out his hand to Rox to guide her into the kitchen.

On the way in, Arthur told him, "You need a haircut. I have a man here  who makes house calls. I'll see if he's free this afternoon."

Dang. Rox had kind of liked Cash's shaggy, surfer look.





SANCTIMONIOUS BULLSHIT





That night, the four of them had French food delivered from a small  bistro rather than drive an entire block to the very same restaurant.  They ate in Cash's formal dining room instead of the television room,  sitting in chairs like medieval Spanish thrones at the dark wood table.

Cash sat on her left, at the head of the table, while Arthur had seated  himself right beside her and thus out of Cash's reach. Maxence sat on  the other side of the table, across from Rox.

Arthur's barber had indeed shown up with a toolbox full of scissors and  combs, and he'd given Cash a haircut right in his own bathroom. Good  God, the extravagance of these rich people astonished her.

He did look more like himself, though.

Arthur and Maxence caught Cash up on news of friends of theirs.

Rox smiled, nodded a lot, and ate her coq au vin, chicken and vegetables  in a thick sauce. She had never heard of the people they were  discussing, and they tended to only use first names, anyway. Cash kept  giving her one-sentence backgrounds on the old school friends they were  talking about-youngest kid from a French banking family and likes to  ski, Saudi minor royalty with a fetish for long-haired cats and flying  his own plane, and a guy with a talent and obsession for computers that  had turned out rather well for him despite that he had to hide his  involvement in his own company-but she wouldn't remember anything from  the rapid-fire gossip and soundbites.

She had checked on the cats earlier. Traumatized by all the new humans  and loud talking in the house, all three were crouching under her bed,  huddled together, and wouldn't look at her. She filled their food bowls  and closed her door so they could get some sleep.

Arthur gestured across the table. "But Maxence here is almost out of the woods, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Hopefully within a few years. They won't have children too soon, though. Pierre hates it when people talk."

Cash leaned over to Rox. "Maxence's older brother was engaged a few  months ago. He'll be married next spring. There has been a rash of  high-profile engagements and weddings lately."

"God, yes," Arthur sneered, though he was grinning. "It's like it's contagious."

"Arthur was at that engagement party that I went to in Dubai a few weeks  before the car accident, and we were both at the one in Madrid in  March. Maxence wasn't there for either one of them. He has managed to  dodge every social event for over a year, even his own brother's  engagement party in Paris a few weeks ago."

"You skipped your own brother's engagement party?" Rox asked him. Maxence sat directly across from her, on Cash's left.

Maxence didn't smile. He didn't look angry, just solemn. "I was on a  mission in Africa, building a school and digging wells for a town that  had been nearly wiped out by a civil war."

"Good Lord, why didn't you say so?" Rox turned to Cash. "And here you had me thinking that he was just shirking his duty."                       
       
           



       

"Oh, he was," Cash said, grinning at Maxence, who still did not crack a  smile. If anything, his unearthly physical beauty increased when he was  so solemn. It was unnerving.

Cash was grinning so hard that the bandage on his cheek wrinkled.  "Maxence should have been there. Everyone remarked on it. Pierre and  Flicka won't be married for over a year, though, not until next June."

"If they marry," Arthur said.

"You think they won't even make it to the altar?" Maxence asked him, his voice sharp.

"Not if Flicka has any sense." Arthur looked up at him. "And not that you should start wasting away over her again."

Maxence looked down at his hands in his lap. "I don't want to see her hurt."