I reach forward and turn it on, quickly searching to find a pop station. I need something between us other than the deafening silence that has settled upon us. I make myself as small as possible in the passenger’s seat, my feet tucked close to the chair, my hands in my lap, my bag at my feet. I hum along as the top hits play, staring out the window as New York passes us by.
Oliver clears his throat, “You’ve never been to New York before, have you?”
“No. Never.”
“Once everything gets settled, I should take you out. Show you around town. Unless you know someone else in the city,” he said it so casually, like it wouldn’t be a problem if he did take me out, but he wouldn’t care if he didn’t. I’m amazed at how casually cool he can seem.
“I’d like that,” I replied, and the silence settles between us once more.
I feel the need to fill the silence, but I don’t know with what. Oliver’s my boss, not my friend. He’s so damn intimidating that I don’t know how to handle it. I’m not the type to be easily intimidated, I’m not some bashful girl. I chose a career where I am supposed to be loud, and powerful...but there’s just something about this man.
I chalk it up to loneliness kicking in. I’ve been single for so long now and Oliver’s the first attractive man I’ve been around in ages, to have conversation with. It’s natural to feel like this, isn’t it? He turns into the parking garage for my hotel, instead of just dropping me off outside.
When he sees the confusion on my face he said, “I would feel better if I walked you upstairs. Of course, it’s your choice...I just know how threatening this city can seem after dark. I assure you, I made sure I booked a nice hotel, but I know you probably still have worries. Correct me if I’m wrong, Cassidy.”
I look over at him as he pulls into a parking space. I want to tell him I can handle it myself, but a part of me doesn’t allow myself to. It’s that stupid loneliness piping up again.
“You can walk me up,” I told him.
He turns the car off and gets out, walking around and opening the door for me once again.
“I never pictured you as someone with good manners,” I admitted as I climb out, tossing my bag over my shoulder.
“My mother made sure I had them,” he said, looking down at me with a smile.
I don’t know much about Oliver’s mother, Alan’s first wife. I didn’t quite care when I was younger about celebrity marriages and I never bothered to do research. I realize I don’t know if they divorced or if she’s dead. It’s not my place to ask though. It’s none of my business.
“She did well,” I said.
In silence, he walks me up to my hotel room. He stops outside of the door and waits for me to fish the key out of my pocket and slide it in the door. Before I step inside, I turn to him.
“Thank you, Oliver. For driving me home, for walking me up. It was incredibly nice of you.”
He smiled at me, “Please, don’t mention it, Cassidy. I appreciate all the work you’re doing for us. I appreciate the fact you stayed on board after everything. I’m looking forward to continued work with you.”
Then, Oliver does something that I wasn’t expecting. He leans down, and I feel my heart pounding in my chest. My knees feel weak. He’s so close to me that I can smell his cologne again. Leaning in, Oliver presses a kiss to my cheek. It’s light, soft. He pulls away and I swear there’s the most knowing smirk on his face.
“Goodnight Cassidy,” he said.
It takes everything inside of me not to place my hand to that place, as I try to remember the soft feeling of his lips on my cheek. I’m speechless and this bastard knows it.
“Goodnight Oliver, I’ll see you in the morning.”
With that, I step into my hotel room and close the door behind me. I feel panicked, unsure, excited. It’s a rush of emotions because of one simple thing that Oliver did. What did it mean? Nothing, right. It probably meant nothing. He was probably just being an asshole and playing with me. That feels like something a guy like him would do.
Chapter Five
When I wake up the next morning, I instantly remember the night before. I try to push that into the back of my mind as I get ready. It’s a big day; I have to make a good impression. This has to go as perfectly as possible...or else it’s going to be a bigger mess for me to clean up.
I clean up my hotel room after I get ready and start packing things up for my flight home later. I’m not quite looking forward to going home though, knowing I’ll have to face my mother. I can only imagine how unhappy she’s going to be that I stuck with this job. I know I’m going to get one hell of a lecture from her, but I can’t focus on that.
I have to focus on my statement later, no time to get distracted. My phone buzzes in my hand as I get ready to leave my hotel room. Glancing down, I see an unknown number has texted me. The text simply reads; ‘This is Edward. I’m outside waiting for you whenever you’re ready.’ That certainly solved the problem of me needing a ride to the office.
With my bag in hand, I finish my descent to the hotel lobby and outside into the crisp morning air. This is likely the quietest I’ve seen the city so far. It’s still ridiculously busy, but there’s a calmness. Like how quiet the sea is before a massive storm. It’s becoming a habit to see Edward standing on the curb, waiting for me. He’s always dressed to the nines in a designer suit, always has a blank expression until I extend a smile in his direction.
“Good morning, Miss Hanson!” he called when he saw me. “Ready for your day?”
“As ready as I’m going to get, Edward,” I said as I slid into the back of the car. I find a cup of coffee waiting for me, a favor I’m extremely thankful for this morning.
He gets in and pulls the car off the curb, driving in the direction of Windsor Books. Just like the first day, the closer we get to the building, the higher my anxiety climbs. I feel like I’m getting closer to my fate with each mile the car drives. Edward seems to sense my anxiety, because he decides to strike up conversation.
“You didn’t call for me to take you home last night. I hope that you got back all right,” he said, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
“I ended up working rather late. There were more issues than I anticipated,” I told him, taking a sip from my coffee. “Oliver ended up driving me home.”
Edward raises an eyebrow, “Oh?”
I’ve come to like Edward. He’s the closest thing to a friend that I’ve made since arriving in New York. Not that I plan on getting cocktails with him anytime soon, but I like him enough to joke around. I slide forward just a bit in the backseat, coffee still in hand.
“Not like that, Edward. Oliver’s my boss, he was just being nice.”
He chuckles to himself, once again making eye contact with me through the rearview.
“Not to be the bearer of bad news, Miss Hanson, but Oliver doesn’t ‘just be nice.’ I’ve known the boy since the day he was born. When Oliver’s nice, it’s because he wants something. And if you don’t know what he wants just yet, you will soon.” He lifted one hand from the steering wheel and dismissively waved it. “Not to say I don’t care for him like he’s my own, but he was raised as a Windsor.”
A part of me knows that Edward is right. Rich men aren’t nice for no reason, especially someone with the track record that Oliver has. There’s not a person around who doesn’t know what type of man he is. It’s something I need to remember to remind myself, especially after that moment when he dropped me off last night. It’s a cardinal sin to mix business with pleasure.
“Oh, you’re right.” I sighed as I sat back. “I guess I just wanted to assume he was being kind.”
“He may have been,” Edward said. “I could absolutely be wrong.” But I know he doesn’t believe that. Not one single bit.
The car comes to a stop outside of Windsor and I get out, thanking Edward for the ride. This side of the city is even quieter than the rest had been. There are only a few lights on inside of the windows that climb t
o the sky. In front of the building, I see people preparing the stage for the press conference. I suppose the Windsor family does go all out.
I step inside the building, say good morning to Noelle, and get into the elevator. The entire ride up to the twelfth floor, my anxiety begins to melt away. I’m in my element. This is what I was born to do and I’m damn good at it. I don’t have time to sit here and agonize over messing things up; I know I won’t. I just hope that the Windsor family is compliant.
“Cassidy? Cassidy!” Joan called my name as soon as I stepped out of the elevator. Her hair is tied in a low bun today, her sweater an emerald color. She seems panicked. “There’s a slight problem with the plan. I – I...”
I ignore Joan. If there’s a problem, I want to hear it straight from the mouth of my employers. I don’t knock as I open the door to Oliver’s office. Inside, I count two people. I’m sure it’s very obvious when my mood shifts.
“Where’s Allison?” I asked, looking between Camille and Oliver. Oliver turns his gaze to Camille, as if he’s asking her the same question.
For the press conference, it seems Camille was going for the ‘I didn’t kill my husband, officer’ look. She wore a dramatically long, black silk dress with bell sleeves. I’m almost surprised she didn’t wear a veil too. Her blonde hair is done in curls and she’s wearing black sunglasses. I would certainly point out the flaws in her outfit if I wasn’t so curious about the answer to her question.
“I...I don’t know,” said Camille. “Allison didn’t come home last night.”
My mood plummets. I put my face into my hand, trying to remember to take deep breaths, trying to remember the importance of not having a breakdown before I go on national TV.
“What do you mean she didn’t come home last night?” I said. “Did you try to get in contact with her?”
“I did this morning.”
“Of course, you did,” said Oliver dryly.
Oliver looks just as frustrated as I am. He’s leaning back against his desk, hands gripping to it so tightly his knuckles are turning white. He refuses to make eye contact with Camille, focusing on anything but her face.
“You didn’t think it was important to find out where she was last night?”
“Despite how you want to think of your sister, Oliver, she’s a grown woman,” snapped Camille. “She’s perfectly capable of making her own decisions. And in case you’ve forgotten, my husband is charged with murder. I’m mourning that loss.”
“He might be your husband, but he’s my father, Camille. I don’t give a damn how you feel right now. Hell, I doubt he’d be in this mess if he hadn’t gotten involved with your lower cl...”
“Okay,” I butted in. As much as I would love to hear them air all of their family drama out in the open, I feel like we need to focus on the more important things at hand; the conference. “I need both of you to reach out to Allison and see if we can get her here before we start. If not, we’re going to begin without her. Got it? We don’t address her absence, because that’s not what’s important right now. Right now, we have to focus on what’s important.”
Oliver slides his phone out of his pocket, texts something with one hand and then slides it back into his pocket.
“We’re all yours, Cassidy,” he said. “Just tell us what you need from us.”
“Today? I need you to look like a cohesive family unit, to keep your mouths shut and just look pretty and mournful,” I said. “Don’t you dare smile once at that press conference. I don’t care if you see the cutest puppy of your life, you smile, it becomes a headline.”
Camille looks the most bothered by the rule of not speaking, not smiling. She looks completely offended by my rule, and I couldn’t care less. All of this is to save their family, not mine.
“Anything else?” Oliver asked.
His steel grey eyes are staring at me and I have to do my best to not make eye contact with him. I don’t want to fall into whatever trap he’s setting for me. I remember Edward’s warning from earlier. It’s just so easy to get sucked into the enigma that is Oliver Windsor.
I shake my head.
“Nothing at all. I’m going to prepare. I’ll meet both of you downstairs at nine-fifty, exactly,” I said. “Please, appear as put together as possible. Remember, cohesive family unit. Look like you like each other just a bit, all right?”
I don’t wait for a response. I turn and leave Oliver’s office, hoping to find somewhere private to review everything.
At nine-fifty, I am down in the lobby, waiting impatiently for Oliver, Camille, and hopefully Allison, to show up. I felt well prepared. I felt like this was going to go as well as it possibly could. About a minute later, Oliver emerges from the elevator, Camille following behind him with her arms crossed over her chest.
I think he noticed just how bothered I looked by Camille’s behavior because he grinned in my direction.
“She’s just getting the pouting out of the way before she has to act like she likes me.”
“He’s an asshole,” Camille said point blank to me.
I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? From what I’ve seen, Camille wasn’t much better. I decide it’s in my best interest to ignore it.
“Anything from Allison?” I asked.
“She hasn’t even read my text,” Oliver said.
“All right. Guess we’re doing this without her. Remember, look together, don’t smile. Keep yourself calm. Let me do the talking. We’re walking out now. You two will stand behind me.”
I don’t give them time to affirm that they understand my directions before I open the front door of Windsor Books and step out, Camille and Oliver following behind me.
I walk over to the stage, climbing up the stairs and to the podium. I place my papers in front of me to help keep me on track. Oliver and Camille take their place behind me, I take a quick look back and neither of them are smiling, but Oliver has his arm around her shoulders.
I lean forward towards the microphone, finally looking out at the crowd that has surrounded the platform. There are reporters with outstretched microphones and people holding large video cameras. I catch a few of the news stations, most of them national. I think I catch an international station or two and a few local. I see reporters with notebooks and eager eyes, waiting for me to speak.
It hits me that this is so much bigger than anything I have ever done before.
“Good morning, everybody,” I greeted the crowd, putting on my best smile. “I think we’ll be getting started in just a minute. We’re going to take a few questions after the family’s statement, but I do ask that all questions be directed towards me. I ask that you hold anything until then so we can complete this statement. Thank you.”
I turn around to check on Oliver and Camille, to make sure they’re still standing and not smiling. I double-check to make sure Allison is nowhere around, the last thing we need is her climbing onto the stage in some drunken state. That would be a whole new thing for me to try and cover up.
I turn back towards the microphone, straighten myself and begin speaking.
“All right. We’re about to get started.” I see the camera lights turn on, the little red lights looking like blips out in the audience. Everybody is staring straight ahead at me; I feel the most at home I’ve felt since arriving in New York.
“Today, I stand with the Windsor family in saying we extend our deepest sympathies to the family of Matthew Davis. No family deserves to lose a loved one in such a painful, unnecessary way.”
I stare straight ahead, making eye contact with the cameras.
“However, the Windsor family would like the world to know that Alan Windsor is innocent. This is a terrible misunderstanding that they hope will soon be cleared up. The family has nothing but faith in our justice system, and in New York’s finest, to reach the same conclusion. During this unprecedented hard time, we wish for the people of New York to stand in support with the Windsor family, to not believe that Alan is the person he’s been m
ade out to be. Thank you all so very much for coming. I’ll open the floor to questions now.”
I finish, taking a breath and making sure I’m still composed.
A woman in the front row, wearing a lilac pant suit raises her hand, I point to her to give her the go ahead.
“If Alan Windsor is innocent, why is he still imprisoned? Clearly there was a warrant for his arrest for a reason.”
I knew the questions were going to be hard-hitting, straight to the point. This is a game that the press plays. They ask questions, waiting for you to slip up, waiting for you to say something wrong and throw it all to hell. They live to pick apart statements for a good headline.
“All the evidence against Alan is circumstantial at best,” I stated. “The police will soon realize their mistake when they finish their interviews with the family and other witnesses. Next, please.”
I point to another face in the crowd, this one further back and a bit more obscured by the crowd.
“Where is Allison Windsor? Does she not believe her father’s innocence? Is that why she doesn’t stand with the rest of her family?”
It wasn’t a planned for question until this morning. I was hoping Allison would show up, instead, the attention was going to be placed on her absence. She just gave me a whole lot more work to do.
“Allison is deeply mourning the loss of her father. She was close to him and is struggling to accept what’s going on. She stands with her father and believes he’s innocent, although the Windsor family does ask for privacy right now.”
The next person I point to steps forward through the crowd. She has shoulder-length brown hair and is dressed more like a lawyer than a reporter.
“Yes, Hi. Hanna Marval. I just want to know if there’s any truth to Camille’s rumored affair with Matthew Davis. His sister is stating she has proof and plans to release it, so I’d like to know where the Windsor family stands on that issue.”
That wasn’t planned for. I have to think quickly on my feet to avoid a major faux pas. I take a breath.
“Camille has been a faithful wife to Alan. She loves him and her family with her entire heart and would never do anything to ruin that” I stated calmly. “We look forward to seeing this proof and will dispute it if and when it arises.”
Fake Love Rich Boss Series Page 5