O Face, page 4
I shouldn’t have come here. I should have known Evan wouldn’t help matters. He never did. “We can’t just leave it like this,” he said quietly. There was an edge to his voice now that I recognized all too well.
My head snapped up. My eyes met his.
His entire expression had shifted. He looked deceivingly calm.
Alarm bells sounded in the back of my head. “Evan,” I began, measuring my words like one would measure poison. Or the few remaining bullets in a gun fight. “Did you take your meds today?”
His eyes narrowed fractionally, almost quick enough to be a tic. “Did I...? Are you fucking serious right now?”
Shit.
He definitely hadn’t taken his meds.
I should not have come here.
“Look, I just want us to help each other,” I said, backing away, my thoughts racing as I tried to remember if I had a backup bottle still buried in my purse from the last time we’d gone through this. Evan hadn’t ever hurt me physically but there were times his temper made me wonder what he truly might be capable of. Especially considering the reason I knew he’d lost his last job.
“I thought that’s what I was doing with your massage.”
“You were,” I said quickly. “Are.”
He folded his arms, feet planted. His hazel eyes glinted with a stony look I knew well. Fuck my life. Today was not my day. “I spoke to your father today.”
Now it was my turn to look pissed. “Why would you do that exactly?”
“Cass, let’s not beat around the bush any longer. We both know what you came here looking for tonight.” His eyes sparked with twisted satisfaction. “It’s nothing to be shy about.”
He took a step forward.
I took one more back.
“I don’t know what you think I’m asking or what my father told you but—”
“He told me about the merger deal with Nichimoto. And about their refusal to work with you as the future CEO.”
“It’s not a refusal. It’s a stipulation,” I said, clinging stubbornly to some modicum of dignity.
He folded his arms over his chest. “A husband isn’t what I’d call a stipulation.”
“Boyfriend,” I corrected.
“Excuse me?”
“Nichimoto’s people are the ones making waves. And they just want me to appear attached. To make me appear stable, I guess. I don’t know. But I’m not marrying anyone. And I have it handled so I don’t need your help.”
“Of course you do.” His lips twitched—a direct contradiction to the false sincerity in his tone. “And this doesn’t have anything to do with the male escort that was tossed out of the lobby this morning, right?”
One look at the wolfish grin he was trying to hide, and I knew I’d made a mistake. Evan was not an option—not even a last hope. He was the enemy. What the hell was I thinking? “That doesn’t concern you, Evan.”
“No?” He frowned, but it was all acting now. I could see it in the way he’d shoved his hands into his pockets and rolled back on the balls of his feet.
Posturing. It’s what Evan Swindell was good at. Probably the only thing he was good at. “Funny because I think your father’s exact words to me were ‘you’re her only hope, son’.” He tilted his head at me. “Your father already clearly thinks of me as family. Is it really so far-fetched that we might get together?”
“Since I’ve already made it clear to you a thousand times that I’m not interested, yes, Evan. It’s far-fetched.”
Evan’s father had been friends with my own back in college. They’d made their fortunes shoulder to shoulder through a series of investments that intersected then forked then intersected again before Evan’s father had died of prostate cancer two years ago. When Evan found out he only stood to receive a monthly check until his mother stepped down, he was furious.
Six months ago, he’d taken me to dinner—our one and only date—where I’d learned he’d only used me to get information on a deal we were brokering. Then he ran to his mother with the info and made the same deal behind our backs.
Instead of being furious, my father let him come to work for us. Something about keeping enemies close. I preferred slaying my enemies, but apparently I had no say. And now, Evan’s office was four doors down from mine. The only thing I’d gotten out of our shared workspace was to learn that Evan also had an anger management issue. One that required medication to prevent lawsuits, apparently.
“Cass, you’re being so dramatic,” he said in a tone that suggested he’d convinced plenty of other women, and maybe even men, of the same thing before. Not me. I’d had enough patronizing for one night.
“I am not doing this with you,” I muttered, shoving past him. “Good night, Evan.”
A hand closed around my wrist, squeezing tight. I whirled, the temper on my tongue momentarily cooled when I saw the rage in his eyes. “Do not walk away from me, Cassandra. We’re not done here.”
“You’re right.” I yanked my wrist free, pulling hard enough to send a pain up my arm, but I hid it and glared at him, pretending I wasn’t about to have a panic attack from the whole thing. “We won’t be done until the rest of the world knows what you really are. And if you don’t leave me alone that will happen sooner rather than later. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a life to get back to. People I care about in the present, not a guy still living in the past.”
I whirled and marched for the door.
“Your father’s lost his money again, hasn’t he?”
I paused, not bothering to turn around. We both knew Evan wasn’t wrong. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing the fear I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide as I admitted the truth. “That’s not your problem,” I said quietly.
“It’s not fair for him to ask you to do this just to fix his fuck up.”
Now, I did whirl, my temper sending heat into my cheeks and dialing back the fear. “And it is fair for you to use my predicament to wedge your way back into my life?”
“That isn’t what—”
“You can fool a lot of people out there,” I said, nodding at the rest of the office. “But you can’t fool me. Stay away from me, Evan.”
“Cass, get back here,” he called behind me.
But I was already on the move, tucking my arm behind me to hide the stress rash that had reared up in all its crimson glory. A consequence of my crawling back to a crazy ex just to solve money problems. Evan had been insane and controlling from the moment I’d agreed to that date. Our relationship, not that you could call it that after one date, had ended abruptly the moment I’d realized he was only using me.
Since then, I’d stayed away. But now, I had only dear old dad—and my own idiocy—to blame for coming back. I’d been deluded to think he’d be different now. Or willing to really help me without helping himself.
What a train wreck that had just been.
Then again, it didn’t top trying to hire the high school playboy as your pretend boyfriend—for lack of having a real one.
I grimaced as I stomped toward the elevator, hating the fool I’d become—and in front of Liam Porter, no less. I still couldn’t believe I’d failed to recognize him this morning. He’d been the hottest guy in my senior class four years ago. Time had been kind, and now, he was even more delicious if that were possible. The fact that I hadn’t recognized him had less to do with his maturing hotness and more to do with the haunted look in his eyes and the sharpness in his movements. Even the way he’d stood had suggested he knew how to hurt—and I didn’t mean the heartbreak kind. Liam Porter was danger wrapped in sex. I wanted none of either.
So why couldn’t I stop thinking about him?
Chapter Five
Liam
I stared, open mouthed, as Cassie walked into the hotel’s ballroom, complete with an entourage and a few local reporters acting as her very own paparazzi. She didn’t have a date, but she also didn’t need one. No one could have shared that spotlight anyway and the shadow that girl cast wasn’t one I wanted to be caught standing in.
Beside me, Jamie whistled. “Damn. The ice princess still knows how to fill out a dress.”
He spoke loud enough to be heard over the band. Even so, I pretended not to notice. Or at least not to care. But the truth was I did on both counts. “Meh. She’s okay.” I felt Jamie’s incredulous gaze swing to me, but I kept my eyes on the drink I was swirling. Rum and coke. To take the edge off my nerves. I’d rather go up against the ice queen herself than deliver a speech I was about to give. Although, the alcohol wasn’t helping my shaky sense of balance and if I tripped while walking onstage, that wouldn’t be a great impression either.
“What do you mean? She’s a ten across the damned board. Or did too many months in Africa’s heat boil your brain?” Jamie elbowed me in the ribs. “Unless I’ve got it all wrong and you’ve gone to play for the other team. Was there not enough booty in Djibouti?” He nudged my shoulder, hooting like he’d just told the most hilarious joke ever conceived, and I decided to go classy by not punching him in the testicles.
“Man, do not talk to me about booty right now. I had more than my share. And where were you? Oh yeah, here. In the same damn town we grew up in. Playing on your computer.”
“Talk shit about my IT skills one more time, bro.” Jamie glowered at me, but I wasn’t looking at him. I was looking at her. Again.
Weren’t the hottest girls in high school supposed to peak and fizzle out by the end of college? Apparently, Cassie hadn’t gotten that memo.
“You going to talk to her?” Jamie asked, catching the direction of my stare.
“I was thinking I’d let her come to me. You know, celebrity status and all.”
Jamie’s brows shot up. “Yeah, blown out eardrums really impress the ladies.”
“Who said anything about impressing?”
“Dude, do not act like you don’t want her. I see that look in your eye, and you’re not fooling anyone.”
“Why did I bring you here again?” I asked as the song changed from faster to slower—a strange sort of soundtrack to the way Cassie moved through the crowd.
Jamie grinned. “Because you’ve already dated everyone else in Summerville. I’m the only one left.”
He made kissing noises, leaning in, and I shoved him away. “Not everyone,” I shot back. “I haven’t dated your sister.”
“Funny. I’ve dated yours and she—”
“Do not even joke about that shit. Sophie is way too good for your ass, and I would hate to have to cut off your dick.” I chugged what was left of my drink and shoved the empty glass against his chest. “I’m going to find more liquid courage for this speech I was blackmailed into giving.”
Jamie snickered. “If by blackmail you mean a procedure that saved your hearing.”
“That’s exactly what I mean.” I took off for the bar.
“Godspeed,” he yelled after me, drawing a few stares.
I ignored them, plowing my way through the throng of Summerville’s socially elite—and morally ignorant. Otherwise known as: charity donors. Every one of them was here to soak up all the positive press about a medtech company that had manufactured the hardware that saved the hearing of a war hero. My story would touch hearts and open checkbooks, I was sure. And Franklin Industries would be that much richer.
I was like the damned pig on a spit at the company barbeque—and I wasn’t nearly drunk enough for any of it.
Three people stopped me as I attempted to navigate my way along. Two were Franklin donors who wanted to tell me how proud they were to have me home. As if my absence had somehow disturbed their quality of life for the past four years. The third, a reporter from the local paper, promised dinner in exchange for my life story. When I refused, she’d upped the stakes to box seats for the Gamecocks. I’d almost choked, thinking she’d referenced a different cock, and promptly walked away.
Was this how hookers felt?
Finally, I managed to secure another drink at the bar and tossed a bill into the tip jar. When I spun, my arm collided with a collage of glitter. The collision tossed the contents of my drink onto the shimmering fabric that probably cost more than my severance package from the military and the net worth of Switzerland combined.
“Shit, sorry,” I muttered, trying to decide whether to reach out and swipe away the liquid. Considering it was currently running down the front of a dress worn by a well-endowed female, I decided to at least make eye contact first. When I saw her face, my arm dropped to my side in instant defeat. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Glacier eyes flashed with irritation. “Oh?” she repeated. Full lips twisted in distaste. “You just threw cheap rum on Dior and all you have to say is ‘oh?’” Cassie fumed.
The girl beside her rolled her eyes, and I recognized her as the receptionist from yesterday’s meeting. The one who assumed everyone in the free world drank coffee. I looked from her to Cassie, trying to think of what else to say, but it was hard to concentrate under the full weight of that stare.
“Sorry?” I couldn’t help but make it a question. Everything about her commanded attention and seemed to beg for apology. Like her very existence anticipated others’ failures.
“Ugh. Bev, find me some sparkling water to get this stain out, would you?”
I watched as the receptionist ran off in search of said liquid treasure. Then my gaze swung back to the ice princess herself. “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” I said.
“Or drink,” she muttered.
“I meant yesterday.”
Her cheeks flushed with the barest hint of pink, and she looked away for a split second before raising her chin and meeting my gaze head-on. Oh yeah, ice princess was embarrassed.
“I would prefer not to mention it,” she said stiffly.
“Really? That’s too bad. I was going to tell you I’ve had a change of heart.” She blinked, and I enjoyed the dumbfounded look my words caused.
“A change of heart?” she repeated, clearly unsure what to think.
“Yes. I’ve thought it over and I’d be happy to be your boyfriend.”
She stared back at me, unyielding. I searched her blue eyes for some clue, but it was impossible to read her. “Fake boyfriend,” she amended in a hard voice. “It wasn’t an actual offer for—”
“Tomato, potato. My point is that I’d like to take you up on it after all.”
“You...” Her forehead creased into delicate lines that seemed to clash with the smoothness that made up the rest of her. “Look, I think we can both agree that yesterday’s meeting was awkward, but I don’t think an arrangement between you and me would work out.”
“An arrangement between you and me,” I repeated slowly. “Wow. You know, I wonder, were you born with your nose that high in the air or is it a learned skill?”
“You’re insulting, and I don’t like your tone,” she said in a low voice, her lips pulled back in a snarl. Something about the heat of her made my hands itch to touch her. Was her skin just as hot as her temper? Or was it cold like the dead gaze she had trained on me now? And why the hell did I need to find out so damned badly?
I heard a clicking sound, and Cassie’s eyes flicked to something over my shoulder. Her jaw flexed, but otherwise, her expression didn’t change. Still, something about her was stiffer. Tenser. More careful.
I turned and found a woman approaching with a dog-hungry sort of look. She wore a reporter’s credentials around her neck. Behind her, a younger photographer was snapping photos of us as she followed the older woman. “Cassie Franklin,” the reporter said with sugar-sweet manipulation dripping from her words.
Whoever she was, I didn’t like her.
“Janice,” Cassie said flatly. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you look tonight. You’re positively sparkling,” Janice said with a wink and an air-kiss aimed at Cassie’s cheek.
“Thank you.” Cassie’s tight smile proved she agreed with my assessment.
“She does look beautiful, doesn’t she?” I cut in, drawing Janice’s sharp eye as she gave me a once-over.
“And you are...?”
“Liam Porter,” I said, offering my hand. She took it, her eyes lighting up at the name I gave.
“Liam Porter, war hero? I didn’t recognize you with the longer hair.”
“You could have shaved,” Cassie said, too low for Janice to hear but loud enough to drown out the rest of Janice’s introduction as she kept talking.
“Your job offer didn’t stipulate anything about facial hair,” I whispered back.
Meanwhile, Janice had let go of my hand and gestured to the photographer who promptly got to work clicking away. “Darling,” Janice said, and I realized she was still talking to me, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Care to give me a quick interview before your speech?”
I bit back a groan. The last thing I wanted to do was give a speech before a speech, but I was cornered now. And with only a few minutes to go before I had to be on stage, there was nowhere to run. Besides, Janice had a look in her eye that suggested she’d just chase me down, anyway. “Sure. What would you like to know?”
“Well, I was going to ask you about your ear implant courtesy of the Franklins’ medtech program.” She leaned in and winked conspiratorially at Cassie and me. “Although, now that I’ve caught a glimpse of the two of you, I can see I should be asking about another organ entirely.”
“Uh, excuse me?” Had this brazen woman just asked me about my dick?
“Your heart, silly,” she said, smiling brightly. “I saw the way the two of you were looking at each other when I walked up.”
“Actually...” Cassie began.
I swallowed my laugh. Cassie was still stiff as a damned board beside me and for some reason that decided it. I slipped my arm around Cassie’s waist, pulling her against me. A tiny gasp escaped her parted lips as I did, and Janice’s smile widened. “We’re just not ready to go on the record about it just yet,” I told her, letting my tone match hers. “I’m sure you understand.”
