O Face, page 6
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“I thought I’d catch you before you drove home. See if you wanted to stay in the city tonight for our date.” Liam strode in without waiting to be invited and sank into the chair across from my desk. He looked smug and sexy as hell in his boots and a button-up, but the combination—and his words—put me on edge.
“Date?” I repeated warily.
“You made it sound like you needed a boyfriend immediately. Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re not, but—”
“Don’t bother telling me you’ll find someone else. I’ve already seen the article in the paper and that picture of our kiss was retweeted more than enough times to make us officially a thing.”
Dammit. I’d seen the article this morning but when no one else mentioned it today, I thought maybe it had gone unnoticed. I made a mental note to grill Bev about it later.
Suddenly, the call from Jess didn’t seem so innocent. Had she seen the picture? Had the board? Had Dad? Why hadn’t he said anything?
I looked up to find Liam studying me. The shape of his mouth mesmerized me. What would it feel like to have his mouth on my skin? To let him kiss me again and really kiss him back? Even from that split second of contact, I knew he kissed with the same intensity he used to stare at me. Just the thought of it made my skin tingle.
“Fine,” I said, nearly surprising myself at my own agreement. “I’ll let you play the role of my boyfriend. But we can’t take this out in public until we work out the terms.”
“I agree. The terms are this: I pretend to be your boyfriend, and in exchange, you pretend to be my friend.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look, the ice princess schtick has to be old by now, right? I mean, you’ve clearly been at it long enough to master it, and I’m sure you’ve got everyone around you fooled. But I saw behind your mask the other night. We both know there’s more to you than that. So, I’ll let everyone think I’m your boyfriend if you let me see the real Cassie Franklin. Just until our deal is done.”
I stared at him, at a loss for words.
Liam waited, clearly not bothered by my silence.
I wanted to go off on him for the way he’d just spoken to me. He’d called me an ice princess which was probably the nicest way he could think of telling me I was a bitch. But he also wasn’t wrong. And truthfully, deep down, I really was sick of freezing people out just so I didn’t have to try to decipher their true intentions. At least this time, I already knew what he wanted from me.
Besides, after the deal was done, he’d go back to his own life, and I could go back to mine. We lived in two different worlds, so it wasn’t like I’d run into him at parties or something. Not like with Evan.
“Okay,” I said.
“Damn.” Liam straightened, grabbing the armrests as he sat up. “That was easier than I expected.”
I reached into the drawer on my right and pulled out the contract I’d prepared when I’d first come up with the idea. “You just have to sign here.”
“No.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. “That’s my other term. No contracts.”
“We have to make this official. To protect—”
“I can protect myself. And I swear not to use you or take this any farther than you want me to. But I’m not signing a contract. Or taking any money.”
“Liam, I have to give you something for your time.”
“Give me you.”
“What?” I asked, startled. Was he asking what I thought he was asking? Because I’d already made it clear sex was not on the table.
“Friendship,” he amended but the glint in his eye told me he’d said it that way on purpose. “The real you. That’s payment enough, trust me, I’ve wondered about the real Cassie Franklin long enough.”
My mouth went dry. I wasn’t even sure what to say to that. Did that mean he’d thought about me? His words sent a warning bell off in my mind, and I knew I should refuse this. It was crazy. But then so was hiring a boyfriend. And I didn’t have any other choice. Apparently, my problems weren’t going to go away until I proved I was capable of making someone like me. Basically, I had to prove I was nice.
And here was a perfect opportunity to practice just that.
Slowly, I pushed to my feet and came around the desk so that we stood eye to eye. I extended my hand, offering it in a hand shake to seal our agreement as officially as we could. Something told me this was enough of a promise for Liam. I just hoped I could trust it. And him.
“It’s a deal,” I said, watching as his lips curved upward into a smile that lit his eyes and sparked a warm tingle from my hand straight into my lower belly. My knees threatened to buckle.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said in a low voice that was predatory enough to make me shudder in anticipation. Of what, I didn’t know.
“Now what?” I asked, shocked to hear how breathless my voice sounded.
“Now, let’s eat.”
Chapter Seven
Liam
The restaurant was crowded, but then I’d expected nothing less. Besides the fact that it was the dinner rush, this place had the best reviews online for fine dining in Charleston. And I knew without asking that Cassie would want to be seen. It was also the thing I wanted least in the entire world, but I’d already made my peace with it. At least for the next few weeks while I played my role. I’d even worn the blazer she’d dug out of some intern’s closet, because even I knew better than to argue with her about proper attire for a restaurant like this one.
I still wasn’t entirely sure why I’d agreed to this. But it wasn’t like I had anything better to do. That was the thing with my medical discharge. It wasn’t just about the fact that I’d nearly died or that I had a second chance. I was literally starting over from the ashes of a life I’d had to leave behind. Sure, I was grateful I wasn’t a statistic. Or an obituary. I was lucky. I knew that. Appreciated it. But I had absolutely no idea what to do next. Besides, Cassie Franklin was a puzzle too intriguing not to solve.
Who in the hell hired a boyfriend so the gossip rags in our tiny town would talk more about your personal life? Didn’t most public figures want less press? More privacy. Then again, Cassie Franklin wasn’t most people. And I was dying to know what was driving her.
“We have your usual table, Miss Franklin. Right this way,” the hostess said the moment we entered.
Of course she had a usual table.
I followed Cassie back to an intimate table for two in the corner. It was dimly lit and offered the illusion of privacy even though the entire restaurant had a clear view of us as we sat and ordered wine. I felt like a toy on display, especially as I noticed the stares and whispers we drew just from sitting down together.
Cassie didn’t seem to notice or mind.
“This is your usual, huh?” I asked, my tone teasing—or at least challenging. I couldn’t help but wonder how many men she’d brought here before me. But she pretended not to hear me and picked up her menu instead.
I tried another angle. “So, what have you been up to since high school?” I asked, purposely focusing on her rather than the busy dining room. It wasn’t a hardship either. She’d kept her jacket on for some reason, but the way it covered her up only made me want to see more of her.
I’d lain awake for a long time last night picturing her in that sparkly dress she’d worn to the party. All those sparkles and all that smooth skin flushed with irritation at me—it wasn’t an image I’d soon forget.
“Working mostly,” she said and her clipped tone made it clear she didn’t want to talk about it.
But I wasn’t giving up that easily. “Right. Developing cochlear implants and other life-saving technology.”
Her smile was tight—and fake. “Precisely.”
The waiter arrived and took our order. Cassie gave hers in a brisk tone that bordered on rude. The waiter either didn’t care or was used to it. Probably the latter. I offered him an apologetic smile and handed him our menus. After he was gone, I poured a generous amount of wine for us both. We were going to need it at this rate.
“What about you?” she asked, and it wasn’t hard to see she was trying to take the spotlight off herself. But I ran with it.
“You already know most of my story. Four years in the service. EOD—”
“EOD?” she repeated. “That’s bomb tech, right?”
“Explosive Ordnance Disposal. Bomb tech is close enough I guess. Although we purposely set off just as many as we shut down.” I grinned just thinking about it, but Cassie looked horrified.
“Isn’t that the opposite of keeping the world safe?”
“Not if they’re too sensitive to deactivate safely. Sometimes it’s safer to blow it up under controlled conditions than risk it detonating accidentally in a high-risk zone.”
“Is that what happened when you...” She trailed off, her gaze dropping from my eyes to my ears and then my chest.
“When I nearly died,” I finished, noting her discomfort. Interesting that she could be rude so easily to the waiter and show compassion for me now. “Sort of. The blast happened underwater, and it was spontaneous which means no one set it off on purpose.”
“And you were too close?” she asked, her blue eyes wide as she undoubtedly tried to picture something that was, frankly, unimaginable.
“Yes and no. I was about sixty feet above it.”
Her brows furrowed. “Then how did it affect you—?”
“Pressure,” I explained. “Underwater, the pressure from an explosion is magnified. The momentum tossed me toward the surface, and I ascended too fast. My lungs expanded and I surfaced with a tension pneumothorax and blown eardrums. I was so dazed, I didn’t even realize it had affected my ears until after the needle decompression procedure.”
“That was for your lung, right?” she asked.
I blinked at her in surprise. “You read my file?”
She picked up her wine, sipping slowly, and I wondered if it was just a diversion while she collected her thoughts. Damn, this girl was good at hiding her thoughts. No wonder people thought she was cold. “I was interested to see if our tech actually worked.”
“Obviously,” I repeated quietly.
Her gaze snapped up and met mine. My brows rose in a silent challenge I had no doubt she understood, but she didn’t offer any more explanation.
I decided to let it go. For now. Instead, I sipped my wine—liberally.
“I don’t know how you do it.”
I looked up to find Cassie studying me intently. “Do what?” I asked.
“You tell your story like it’s no big deal.”
“Did you want me to dissolve into a fit of tears as I relive every moment until my team was able to pull me from the brink of death as I nearly drowned in my own fluids?”
“God, Liam. No. I... I was just wondering how you ended up out there. Your bio said you were stationed at a base in Djibouti. That’s not where the medical report lists your initial hospital stay.”
“My bio was partly correct.” And how in the hell did she get hold of a document that actually listed my hospital’s location?
Her eyes narrowed fractionally as she attempted to read between the lines. “Is this the part where you tell me ‘if I told you, I’d have to kill you’?”
I offered a telling grin. “Precisely.”
I watched as she fidgeted with the stem of her wine glass, momentarily losing myself in the image of her dainty fingers wrapped instead around my—
“What about girlfriends?”
I blinked, my gaze snapping up to hers. “What about them?”
She hesitated, her cheeks flushing deliciously as she asked, “Did you have any while you were away?”
“Well, considering there was an average of one woman for every twenty men at my various posts, no.”
She didn’t look convinced which amused me. “No one serious all this time?” she pressed.
“No one special enough, I guess.” Would she have cared if there had been?
“From what I remember during high school, they were all special to you.”
“You kept tabs on me?” I raised a brow, trying not to show how much I liked the idea that Cassie had noticed me just as much as I’d noticed her all those years ago. Interesting. Maybe Jess had been more serious than I’d realized about me being the one to get Cassie talking.
She rolled her eyes. “You were hard to miss.”
“Direct hit.” I clutched dramatically at my heart. “I don’t know if I’ve just been complimented or insulted.”
“If you pretend it’s a compliment, they usually won’t have the balls to correct you.” The way the words just fell out of her mouth, I knew the phrase was something she’d been told often.
I smirked. “Spoken like a true ice princess.”
She looked abruptly away, and I instantly wished I hadn’t said anything. We’d actually been inching toward flirting for a moment before I’d ruined it. To make matters worse, the food arrived, interrupting whatever backtracking I might have done.
I sat back, watching her as our plates were set in front of us. When we were alone, she picked up her fork, and I did the same, still watching her. The sound of her voice caught me off guard.
“It doesn’t bother me, you know.”
I looked up at her, guilty again of staring at her hands for some reason. They hadn’t stopped moving since we’d sat down. Twirling her glass, scratching her arm, wielding her fork. And it was riveting. Pathetically so. “What doesn’t?” I asked, trying to refocus on what she was saying.
“The title. Ice princess. I’ve always known that’s what they call me, and honestly, if it keeps the users away, I don’t mind.”
“The users?” I repeated.
“The people who pretend to be your friend so they can get a free lunch.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “You had a lot of that?”
She shrugged, but it was a sharp movement. Too forced. “I had enough.”
“Is that why you don’t have friends?” The question slipped out before I could stop it; genuine curiosity getting the better of wisdom.
“I have friends,” she insisted.
But I pinned her with a look. “Jess doesn’t count.”
Her lip curled in an expression I remembered as classic Cassie. “She’ll be thrilled to know you said so.” She speared a piece of potato.
“Let’s not talk about her. Let’s talk about you. While I have you willing to share, tell me something about yourself.”
Around a bite of food, she said, “I like drinking wine in nice restaurants.”
I pointed my fork at her. “Very funny. You agreed to be my friend,” I reminded her.
“I agreed to pretend to be your friend,” she corrected.
I huffed. Maybe I should have had her sign something after all. Clearly, she was better at this than me. “Pretending and lying are not the same. If I ask a question, you have to tell the truth.”
Her mouth tightened, making it hard to look away from her lips. “Fine. You have five minutes.”
“Deal,” I agreed. “Favorite movie.”
“Um.” She looked like a deer in headlights. It was sad, actually.
“Never mind. I haven’t seen a movie in like three years, anyway. Favorite song.”
“I...”
This was really pathetic. Coming from a guy that had been out of touch with pop culture for years that said a lot. “Favorite food?”
“Macadamia nut cookies,” she said with no hesitation.
I grinned. “At least you know what you like to eat.”
She shook her head. “I don’t eat them often. Too many calories. When I was a kid, I used to sneak out of my room at night and creep down to the pantry for one. I would take tiny bites, and then, I would just hold it in my mouth until it dissolved.”
I looked up from my plate. “You wouldn’t chew it?”
“I wanted it to last as long as possible.”
“You could have just eaten two.”
“No way.” She shook her head vehemently. “Mom would have lost her shit. She was constant about me staying in shape. And Dad was the same way. Keeping fit meant staying healthy longer. God, I think he was grooming me for an eighteen-hour work day from the time I could talk.”
I shook my head in commiseration, but secretly, I felt like I’d just won. Cassie Franklin had shared something personal. With me. I decided not to push about her mom, too afraid it would shut her down. “See? Was that so hard?”
Her brows dipped in confusion.
“You just told me something about yourself that no one else knows. And you were nice about it. And no one died.”
Her lips curved into the hint of a smile. Another point for me. “Whoa. Calm down. If you smile now, it’ll give me too much too fast,” I warned.
“Very funny.”
“I’m serious. Your smile is like the holy grail of Summerville. If I get it tonight, I’ll have nothing left to live for.”
“What are you talking about?”
I stared at her, brows raised. But she seemed genuinely clueless. “Uh, just the fact that no one has ever seen you smile.”
“Yes, they have. You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m being dead serious. It’s like one of the constants in life. Death, taxes, and Cassie Franklin not smiling.”
Her amusement faded. “I have a lot going on,” she muttered.
“Is that why you had to hire a boyfriend? Too busy to go out and find a real one?”
Her expression hardened. “I’ve had a real one.”
“And?” I looked around, knowing full well I was baiting her temper. But if I couldn’t get her to smile at me, getting her pissed was the next best thing. “Where is he now? Because all I see is your hired help.”
“He’s at home. Hopefully taking his medication.”
I waited, but she didn’t say more. In fact, she’d gone so quiet I wondered if she’d even meant to tell me that much. “You know, I really want to make a joke about how impossible you must have been, but I’m taking the high road here.”
“Ha ha. For your information, he was diagnosed as bipolar last year.”
